The Luxury of it All

While we were in Nice we took a day trip to Monocco, one of the world's most expensive cities. While we were there I tried to buy a magazine for 6 euros (expensive, I know, but it was a really great magazine). When I brought it to the counter the cashier rang it up as 9 euros. When I asked her why it cost so much she said, "You're in Monocco," and then she laughed. I left without a magazine and a damaged pride. Hah, Monocco...







There were privately owned yachts, just lined up along the shoreline.








Free oranges.


I would have paid 9 euros for these though...


...or these.






Jen and I were pretty close to chasing these roller bladers down to ask them where they got their cotton candy.


Another privately owned yacht. At this point the paradox between being jealous and sorrowful for the fate of the world was too much and my head exploded.








This picture was taken by a really creepy guy who wouldn't leave us alone.




Monocco's famous casino. Most of the tables have a 75 euro (about 110 dollars) betting minimum. Needless to say, we didn't even step foot inside.






If the Mona Lisa were a shoe it would be this Prada heel.








Here I am trying to act really cool in Monocco.


Looking like some weird mix between an emo angles shot and an American Apparel add.


Worn out from luxury of it all and on our way home.

On Training Cats to Sit on One's Shoulders

Hey there kids, let me tell you about a little place called Nice (pronounced neeeeeice). After waking up on the night train from Paris to Nice we were greeted to some of the most gorgeous landscape I have seen in awhile. Hills, mountains and ocean; perfect sun, perfect water, sailboats and even whales. We got picked up by our hostel's van service (if you know about traveling to hostels then you will understand the glorious convenience this is). The driver was blasting Amy Winehouse. I thought gee whiz! Whales, Ocean, my beloved Amy...how could Nice get any better? And then I ate the hostel's Nutella cereal.

After Paris was all museums and homework Nice is well recieved relief. Since we arrived I have been buzzing with happiness.

Our hostel is a refurbished monastary. Here is the view from our window.


Not my dad's Honda Shadow.


I guess if I was bummin around France I would also train a cat to sit on my shoulders...


...or maybe a rabbit.






The water wasn't warm, everyone on land was wearing a jacket. Almost cool, but mostly just insane and uncomfortable.








True love is... wearing matching denim hot pants.

Nothing is More Gangster Than Gold Tinsel

...don't have a lot to say. Just a few more pictures of Paris.







Because nothing is more gangster than gold tinsel.








Anti-climatic?


Venus de Milo


True love is....traveling all the way to Paris and falling asleep in the Louvre.