So, I just got back from Nice, and wow—if you're curious about the best things to do in Nice, grab a coffee because, honestly, I just need to share all the little moments that made my trip unexpectedly wonderful and hilariously messy.
This spot? Total surprise.
When I first arrived, I had this sort of vague image in my head based on all the travel blogs I'd read. Sunshine, palm trees, stunning beaches… you know, the usual postcard stuff. But as my plane landed, I started to doubt myself. Was this the right decision? I mean, I'd barely booked my accommodation the week before, hopping from site to site, frantically saying yes to things just to have some sort of plan. Yeah, there were doubts creeping in, that gnawing feeling that this whole trip might end up being just a long series of messy misadventures.
But then I found myself wandering through the cobbled streets of Vieux Nice, the old town. Oh man, they're like a beautiful labyrinth! I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going; I was just following the scent of something delicious wafting through the air. Honestly, I didn't even know the name of the place when I stepped inside this tiny little café. The chatter of locals felt like music, and the colorful displays of pastries tempted me like some hidden treasure.
I ordered what I thought was just a croissant, but it turned out to be a pan bagnat. It's basically a sandwich stuffed with tuna and veggies, all slathered in flavors that I can hardly describe but will forever crave. I wasn't expecting much—just a quick snack—but I ended up savoring that little thing like it was a five-course meal. It was such a delightful surprise; my doubts melted away with every bite.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
Let me tell you about my second day. If you ever find yourself in Nice, just please, please go to Castle Hill. I had heard bits and pieces about it—the panoramic views, the lush greenery—but until I climbed those steep steps and reached the top, I had no idea how much it would change my mood that day. It felt like I could breathe again. The city sprawled out below was just breathtaking in ways that pictures totally can't capture. There's this moment when the hues of the Mediterranean start to sync perfectly with the sky, and you realize the world is a lot bigger than your little worries.
As I was soaking in the view—and yeah, snapping countless selfies because isn't that what we do—I spotted a small fountain nearby. There was a family, laughter spilling everywhere, and they looked so happy playing around in the water. I started chatting with a woman there, who was visiting from Lyon, and then she offered to take a photo for me.
We ended up chatting for a good half an hour, sharing travel stories and tips. She recommended this lesser-known gallery that turned out to be just a short walk from the hill. Honestly, it felt like the universe was conspiring to make my day super special. I would've missed that connection if I hadn't decided to linger longer than planned. Small moments like that just stuck with me—almost like little reminders that life isn't all about schedules.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Okay, here's where things went sideways. I have the worst sense of direction. If I see three streets, I'll inevitably pick the wrong one. So picture this: I'm trying to find this artsy little restaurant my friend told me about—somewhere with a twist on traditional Niçoise cuisine. Only, of course, I take a wrong turn and end up wandering into this quiet neighborhood that felt like it was entirely untouched by tourists.
On one hand, I was kind of frustrated, muttering under my breath about my typical clumsiness. But on the other hand… wow. There was this street filled with local boutiques, each window displaying handcrafted mementos, and one shop had old postcards stacked like a treasure trove. And just when I thought the series of wrong turns was a disaster, I stumbled upon the most adorable artisan bakery.
I walked in, half-expecting just a moment of “Oh well, let's see what's here,” but instead I found myself chatting about olive oil cakes with the owner. This sweet woman—Claudine, I think—told me stories of her grandmother teaching her to bake when she was a kid. I couldn't help but drift deeper into this little universe of flour and sugar, craving connection as much as the pastry.
I left with a lemon tart that had this zesty freshness I'll dream about for weeks, and I could still taste Claudine's passion in every bite. It might've been unplanned and a little chaotic, but that detour was the highlight of my entire trip.
A last meal to remember
Before I left, I indulged in a final dinner by the Promenade des Anglais, and it was exquisite. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting shades of orange and pink across the sky, and I felt a sort of peaceful closure. I settled on a little terrace, ordered a plate of socca—a chickpea pancake that's deceptively simple but absolutely incredible when done right. And it was done right! This crisp exterior and a bit soft inside, perfectly paired with a chilled rosé.
At that moment, I felt like I could stay in Nice for ages, watching the laughter, absorbing stories that wafted through the sea breeze. My heart felt so full; I was almost surprised at how connected I'd grown to this city in just a few days.
While sharing all this with you, I realize it's less about the big sights and more about these little woven moments—the accidental detours, those unexpected connections, and meals that tell stories as rich as the place itself. It's messy, it's human, and it's beautiful.
So, here I am, sipping the last dregs of my coffee, still floating on the memories. Maybe I'll come back one day. Who knows? But for now, I'm just glad I took a chance on Nice.
