Eze and the Nietzsche Trail

A trip to Eze.  The second attempt.

We stepped off the train at Eze-sur-Mer fully prepared to hike up to this hilltop medieval village.  No relying on the 83 bus and its schedule this time around.

The girls reenacting, with a little flair, our experience of waiting at this bus stop a few days ago.

The trail that would lead us up the 400 metres of elevation to our destination is named after the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche.  He spent time in this area in the late 1880's in his search for a climate that would ease his considerable health problems.  There are a number of plaques along the path dedicated to Nietzsche and some of his writing.  Allegedly, it was during his daily walks on this old mule path that he found inspiration for the third part of his novel "Thus Spoke Zarathustra".

At the bottom of the Nietzsche Trail.

And, just in case there was any doubt we were heading in the right direction.

The path started off paved, then alternated between rocky paths and steps.  It is a pretty steady climb, but we took our time and stopped for a snack and water.

Only minutes into our hike with our destination clearly in view.

"This splendid plenitude of light has on me, a miraculous action".  I have to agree with Nietzsche on that one.

We are about half way up here.  The girls are being hilarious and doing their best to hide from me yet another information board with which they claim I am 'obsessed'.  They are draped over some writings of Nietzsche.

It was such a gorgeous November day and it didn't take us long to shed our jackets.  In fact, we would have been more comfortable in shorts for the climb, it was that warm!  Hiking this trail in the high season, I can imagine, would be a slightly different experience with the summer heat and the larger crowds.  As it was, apart from two small groups we passed on their descent, we only shared the path with chirping birds and the breeze.

A short video to give you a sense of what a peaceful walk it was.

Grace, especially, was relieved to have the town come into view.  She was starting to doubt the path was actually leading anywhere.

The view of the village of Eze from the upper part of the trail

One hour and twenty minutes later, we arrived at the postern, the back entrance to the medieval town, that had a double door, two towers and, in the days of the House of Savoy rule, a drawbridge.  The historical plaque, one of many posted around the town, explained that the defence systems at this entrance weren't adequate enough to hold back the armies of François 1 and his Turkish ally, Suleiman the Magnificent, in 1543.

On this day, it was a picturesque first taste of the historical town we were entering.

The view from the inside of the back entryway into the village.

The medieval streets were, as expected, very narrow which helped create shady areas to combat the summer heat long before the days of air conditioning.  Centuries ago, the lower levels of these homes would have been cellars (lots of wine and olive oil stored) or sheds for their goats, sheep and mules.

It didn't appear that there were many residences now within these walls.  We saw numerous galleries and boutiques, many of which were closed due to it being the off-season.  No worries for us.  It felt like a real bonus not having to deal with throngs of fellow tourists

We were, however, hoping that there would be something open so we could sit down for a drink.  We lucked out at the Deli' Salad Bar and Olive Oil Shop where we each had a drink and received some olives from Nice soaking in basil olive oil to enjoy as well.

I've  momentarily had to stop typing to think about that basil olive oil.  I've decided that if I ever hike the Nietzsche trail again, buying a bottle of it will be my reward.  Come to think of it, perhaps that's how I would get Grace up that trail with me again.  She said she could have drunk the stuff!

The server was very kind, but a little surprised to see us arrive with our bare arms.  He, in contrast, was definitely dressed for an autumn day; several layers and a scarf.  I explained that we had just climbed the hill.  Barry explained that we were Canadian.  He smiled and responded he was dressed as a Frenchman, and a Frenchman from the Côte d'Azur at that.

Out of the sun and at rest, we did cool down even under the little heaters he had directed on us.

Barry and Grace at the Deli' Salad Bar and Olive Oil Shop.  I loved the Canadian fall colour display in the background.

A mere ten-metre walk from our coffee break was the entrance to the Jardin Exotique.  The light was so beautiful at that time in the afternoon, as were the views.

Le jardin exotique

From this view, you can make out the bell of the Chapelle de la Sainte-Croix that dates back to the early 14th century.

There was a castle right on the top of this present day exotic garden that dated back to the second half of the 12th century when the village was still part of the kingdom of Provence.  However, in 1706 during the war of the succession of Spain, it met the same demise as the castle at Nice:  torn down by the army of Louis XIV.

A painting from when the castle still sat above the village. 

Very little is left of it now.

Here is the panoramic view looking west of the village of Eze, with the "Grande Corniche" in the background.  It is in the area off to the left that evidence of the most ancient human occupation in Eze was found, dating back to 220 BCE.  A group called the Celto-Ligurians.   In the forefront is the tower of the Church of Notre Dame de l'Assomption built in 1764.

And finally, the panorama looking out to the sea showing just how high we climbed.

All in all a beautiful day.

Only one important decision left to end this outing:  how to get back down to sea level and the train station.  The girls decided that they really didn't want to hike it.  I have to admit that Barry and I didn't fight them too hard on this call.  However, that left us having to rely on that bus number 83 to take us back down the hill.

Seriously hoping the bus shows to save us the hike down!

I am happy to report that  this finger crossing made all the difference.  We were on the bus heading downhill after a mere twenty minutes wait.