We checked out of Hotel Inn and headed towards the southernmost parts of France, to visit the famous towns by the Mediterranean Sea or the French Riviera as it is called in English. Andrej does not like me calling French names by their English version so let me rephrase that and say, we are going towards Côte d'Azur—St. Tropez, Cannes, Nice et al. From Paris, we had about 900 KM to cover in total till the coastal regions. Since the hotels in St. Tropez were beyond our budget, Andrej booked a hotel in a lesser known town, Frejus, for two nights. Frejus was not very far from the abovementioned places and we could get to any of them in about 30-40 minutes; so we thought it was an ideal place to stay and not having to shell out more euros on lodging. The weather was quite awful and rained throughout the journey. We were desperately hoping to see it clear up so we could spend some time at the beach but it got worse and worse as we drove towards Frejus. Fortunately, by the time we arrived in Frejus, it was no longer raining and the sun had come up even though the skies were partly cloudy. The place and its flora were very different from Paris or the other French towns we had been in earlier. Here, we could see the homes built in Mediterranean style with layered, red brick tile roofs, columns and stucco exteriors. The trees were relatively short-heighted with palms and shrubby bushes lined up the streets.
We checked into hotel Les Trois Chenes that resembled a homely villa in a sleepy coastal town. Our room was meant for three people so we had an extra bed that we utilized for keeping some of our stuff. Andrej realized that his shampoo had spilled all over his toiletries bag and emptied out the items. I rinsed the bag for him and put it on the window sill to dry. Even though it wasn’t sunny, we thought we would hit the beach and rest there for a while. I was thinking what bikini to wear as I had brought one with me and purchased another in Prague. I decided to keep the Victoria’s Secret ones for another time. We arrived at Frejus beach and sat down at a restaurant first to have pizzas. I was almost shocked to see the size of “one” pizza, it had about 6-8 slices. I told Andrej this would be called a “family pack” in India and wondered how an individual in Europe could possibly finish all of that. He regretted the fact that I did not get to try the pizzas in Slovenia which according to him tastes better than what the Italians make. After food, we went to lie down on the beach. It must have been raining in Frejus also as the lower layers of the sand were still wet. The waters were not blue as I expected and the beach had hardly any people. I wanted to go into the waters but it was too cold so we just relaxed on the sand. We spent a couple of hours before heading back to the hotel to get ready for some clubbing in St. Tropez.
I used to see pictures of St. Tropez in entertainment magazines back in the US and took it as one of those snobbish places where only shallow Hollywood stars and celebrities went for vacations. I wasn’t really up for it but didn’t see any harm in checking the place out anyway to see what was so extraordinary about it. I thought maybe it had an incredible beach or such. Andrej told me the place was nothing special when he went there years ago and it did not look like much of a party place. He was surprised to know that it had become so popular a joint for the rich and famous in such a short span of time. So, we decided we would act “pretentious” for a night and head out to one of the world-famous clubs there. It took us nearly 45 minutes to get there from our hotel I Frejus. When we arrived there, there were no signs to suggest that this is one of the world’s most famous party places. There were people in casuals as well as in their party clothes but nothing caught my eye except for some high- fashion designer stores, which in any case is not unusual because most European cities/towns we had been too earlier had those stores as well. Andrej was expecting to see some fancy cars but we only spotted one Ferrari and a Porsche in the parking lot. We walked around to see where the clubs were located but saw only a couple of them which looked like they were having private parties. I was tempted to go enquire if we could go in but figured it would be too embarrassing if we got a “by invitation only” reply from one of the bouncers. So we walked into the narrow alleys to check out for more party places. The streets were lined with designer boutiques and fashion ateliers. We saw a couple of girls in short party dresses wear walking ahead of us and thought maybe we should follow them as they looked like they were heading to some club. We came across a comfy looking bar in a dark alley and settled on having a couple of drinks there. As we approached the place, the waiter came out to greet us and said something in French. I did not understand what he was rattling on. He brought out the drinks menu which only consisted of wine. I could tell they were expensive with some costing 24 Euros per glass. Even though Andrej was intent on splurging here for the night, I could not imagine letting him spend that much money on a glass of wine for me. He asked for beer and so I thought I would go for a beer as well. At this, the waiter became agitated or at least acted like it and continued to persist with his demands for me to take wine. Andrej persuaded me to just take the wine but being the stubborn one, I stuck to my gut and told the waiter “beer please”! So he bought us two glasses of beer. Andrej told me that people here expected visitors to know in advance the names of the drinks they wanted to have and looking at the price tag was almost forbidden. I thought that was the most preposterous thing ever to expect your customers to not look at the menu or make their own selection. That moment I thought the French would have to be the most stuck up people on this planet even though I knew what I was assuming was wrong as I was generalizing and putting every French person in a pigeonhole. I also reminded myself that the French folks in Paris were all friendly and nice.
After this little incident, I was disappointed and wanted to go back to the hotel as soon as possible or go somewhere else and get drunk. I have been to some of the most exclusive bars/clubs in New York and Las Vegas where Hollywood stars and other celebs party and the drinks are double the rate of what this tiny, seemingly inconsequential restaurant/bar was charging and never ever had I encountered the waiters or waitresses conducting themselves so condescendingly. Even though I did not say it out loud, Andrej could see the visible discomfort on my face and said we would leave soon. We got up and left the place never to look back. Andrej decided not to leave any tip. I felt awful and angry at because we were looking forward to having a good time drinking and dancing as neither of us had been to clubs or danced in years. And I was sorry for Andrej because he wanted to dance, with me. But as much as I wanted to stay on and party, I knew it would no longer be easy for me to enjoy myself genuinely in a conceited place such as this. Maybe the others weren't going to act like a jerk or have condescending attitude like this waiter but my mood was already off. I asked Andrej we could stay on and party but I think he knew I wasn’t up for it anymore so he suggested that we go home instead. It was not a successful night, surely but I was kind of glad that at least we came to know what kind of places to avoid from now onwards. Besides, I did not regret going to St. Tropez, we wanted to see the place and we saw it just as it was—pretentious and pompous. Andrej asked if I wanted to go back the next day to take pictures of the beach/harbor in daylight but since we were going to Cannes and Nice, we decided to skip the idea.
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