Villefranche-sur-Mer

They are hard to make out in the photo below, but there are buildings on the rocky hilltop.  In fact, there is a whole medieval town just out of view on that hilltop.  It is the village of Eze, and it was our destination last Sunday.

However, what is that saying about best-laid plans?

We had packed a lunch, road the train for 45 minutes and then walked to the bus station mere steps from the train station at Eze-sur-Mer.  The bus schedule read that the bus to Eze village on high was due at 12:25pm, a mere seven-minute wait.  What timing, we thought.  Not long to wait, we thought.

12:25pm arrived.  The bus did not.

We waited and we waited.

We then noticed this sign and we laughed.  It seemed that we hadn't been the only visitors to find the bus schedule a little lacking in accuracy.

The french says, "Fed up.!!!   Useless schedule!!!  No bus is coming!  Can't translate the Italian, but we're pretty sure some Italian tourists waited 2 hours without a bus arriving.

We decided it we were going to see Eze, we would not depend on the number 83 bus and it's dubious schedule .  We would climb up to it on foot.

But, on another day.  We weren't geared up for a hike.

Instead, we hopped back on the train to the spend the day in the charming coastal town of Villefranche-sur-Mer.  The town's largest beach, the Plage des Marinières, is located directly below the train tracks.  The girls enjoyed watching one boy, impervious to the brisk fall day, getting knocked over again and again in the waves as his Dad stood watch.  We definitely want to return for a beach day, but will wait until spring and a tad warmer weather.

The Plage des Marinières at Villefranche-sur-Mer as seen from the train station.

We strolled down the waterfront, the Quai de l’Amiral Courbet, below the old town.  Grace and Lily played chicken with the waves that were washing up along the sidewalk.  The sea definitely got the best of them both.  Strangely, they both seemed very entertained about walking around town with wet runners.

Posing along the Quai de l’Amiral Courbet, looking back towards the Plage des Marinières

We headed away from the water and up into the streets of the old town.

Immediately after taking the photo below, I briefly lost my family.  There was a sign posted on the building I had missed and had to return to read it.  Barry and the kids walked on.

And to think I almost sauntered right by this interesting historical note.

I caught up with the others at the Place Amélie Pollonais just as the sun broke through, warming us up and drying out four wet feet.  We casually browsed the wares, mostly antiques, being sold at the Sunday marché à la brocante.

Marché à la brocante in the Place Amélie Pollonais

We made the brief climb to the Citadelle St. Elme.  Its construction began in 1554, under the orders of the Duke of Savoy, Emmanuel Philibert, after the city was destroyed by Franco-Turkish armies in 1543.  Normally. visitors are allowed into the 7.5 acres grounds, but it is closed for the whole month of November, so I will have to return another month for a look around.

La Citadelle St. Elme

View of the old town from the citadel.  The sun had brought out all the colours.

Not the visit we had planned, but a great day, nonetheless.  

Next, we tackle the climb to Eze.