Tag: Musings

The French Riviera: Days 4 & 5 “Livin’ it up, Monte Carlo-style”

3 Comments

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hey everybody! My Mom and I finished our vacation in the French Riviera with 2 days in Monte Carlo.  It is a beautiful place! Approximately 45 minutes from Nice by bus, Monaco consists of 3 distinct tourist areas: Monaco-Ville, Monte Carlo, and La Condamine. Most of this small country was built on a cliff.  The streets are a bit narrow and since it’s built into a cliff, things seem a little congested but it is breathtaking so you sort of just overlook that.  This place has a very distinct feeling of “money”…people have it.  That is obvious.  For me and my poor little pockets, well…I was pretending 🙂 

When taking the bus from Nice, you will ride along the Low Corniche.  If you want to take the route all the way to Menton (like we inadvertently did), it takes just an hour.  You pass thru the beautiful villages of Villefranche-sur-Mer, Cap Ferrat, and Beauliu-sur-Mer on your way to Monte Carlo.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Monte Carlo Bay

Monte Carlo Bay

Once we arrived in Monaco, we checked into our FABULOUS hotel, the Monte Carlo Bay Resort & Hotel.  The resort has a casino, gym (with free personal trainers) and a spa. I was able to hit the gym and get a good 45 minute run in before hitting the casino.  My absolute favorite thing about Monte Carlo?  THE CINQ MONDES SPA!  OMG, this place is heaven on earth.  Seriously.  The purpose of our visit to Monte Carlo was to gamble & spend a day at the spa.  Well, we lost at the casino (I love roulette and my numbers weren’t hitting all night…and I just knew I was about to hit it big and live the life of a newly rich jetsetting diva…but, it apparently wasn’t meant to be that day *sobs*).   On the plus side, the spa more than made up for it.

Japanese Bath

Japanese Bath

I’ve been to countless spas and this has to be the absolute best in my opinion. We started out in the hammam to relax prior to our spa services. My first service was the “Aromas & Flowers Japanese Bath” — and it was the most fabulous thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. It was like Christmas!  The Japanese Bath is essentially a big wooden tub that traps heat so the water never gets cold.  You step into the tub of very warm water, then you have aromatherapy oils poured over you in the water.  Once that is complete, rose petals are sprinkled on top of you.  Next, the masseuse places a pillow under your neck and proceeds to give you a scalp and neck massage.  Afterwards, you are left alone for about 15 minutes to relax.  Once you are fully rested, the masseuse brings you peach tea, honey and dried fruit to snack on while still in the bath.  Um, seriously…did I mention this was HEAVEN?  Because it is.  I do not think I will be able to replicate this in my own tub with some Calgon & Lipton.  You already know I was notating everything because my next home needs a relaxation room like this.

After the Japanese Bath, I had an Oriental Massage which was basically laying on hot towels being massaged with warm oils. Total bliss. Once the services were over, I was taken to the “Relaxation Room” to lay down with more peach tea & honey.  I would go back to Monte Carlo just for the spa.  It was that fabulous.  Want to know more about this fabulous resort?  Check out my hotel review here.

Cathedral

Cathedral

The next day, Mom and I head out to do some sightseeing.  We decided to take the bus from the hotel around this “city”.  Word of caution…if you don’t speak French, you may be a bit challenged as there are no English translations and it’s not really clear where the stops are. 

Monaco-Ville is the oldest section of Monaco and contains the Royal Palace, the Cathedral (which holds the tombs of Prince Rainier & Princess Grace), the Cousteau Aquarium, and the Exotic Gardens (pictures are in the slideshow below). 

Tomb of Princess Grace

Tomb of Princess Grace

Tomb of Prince Rainier

Tomb of Prince Rainier

The famed Monte-Carlo Casino

The famed Monte-Carlo Casino

The district of Monte Carlo is the area around the famous Monte Carlo Casino (which has a cover charge and dress code).  The area is absolutely gorgeous but it is very tight & congested since everything is built very close together.  It’s also very expensive.  Breakfast was 35 euro/per person…and this was a continental breakfast.  Once you get over the sticker shock, you can really enjoy it and see that it is a wonderful place to visit. 

The were a couple of cool sculptures across the street from the casino (which remind me of sculptures I saw in Vigeland Sculpture Park in Oslo, Norway).

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Overall, the French Riviera was really nice and a wonderful experience. I can only imagine how wonderful it is when the temperatures allow you to get in the water. Nice was my favorite city as it lends itself to a lot to do. Monte Carlo is nice…but I would suggest that you day trip over from Nice. It’s not really worth 2 days unless you want to stretch it out. Cannes…that was one of those places where I can say I’ve been there. But, not interested in going back as there really isn’t much there to see.

Here are some of my favorite photos:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Next stop…Milano!

The French Riviera: Day 3 “Yes We Cannes”

2 Comments

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAJanuary 4, 2010

Bonjour!  It’s day 3 and today was cold and overcast. We woke up this morning and went to our favorite cafe, Grand Cafe de Lyon, for our croissants & cafe au lait.  How am I going to live my life without this cafe near my home?  Clearly they need an Atlanta location [makes note to self to speak with manager about this].

We head out to see the Russian Cathedral before taking the train to Cannes (which is about 30 minutes from Nice).  As we are walking, I notice that almost every dog has on a designer outfit!  Seriously.  Let me ask you a question.  What dog do you know in the U.S. that is rocking a leather jacket????  Not Riley.  He wrote a blog post about dogs dressing up.  These dogs don’t wear plain little coats…they have designs and ruffles.  Like they are about to go on the runway at a Stella McCartney fashion show.  There is even a dog & cat clothing store.  I kid you not.  And, the dogs have the nerve to get attitudes if you stare a little too long…like they think you are about to steal their designer duds.  There is a dog in the apartment building we are staying in who barks as soon as you come into his line of sight.  But, I think that’s because he may be the poor relations around town since he didn’t havean outfit on.

Anyway, the train station is in the opposite direction from the promenade and the markets which we saw yesterday.  As we are walking to the cathedral, the “element” (you know who I am talking about) seems to be more prominent.  Maybe they don’t let them visit the nice part of Nice???  Anyway, it’s cold & rainy so I am focused on following the map to get to the cathedral.  I then start to notice that the area isn’t as pretty as other parts of the city but it has “character”.  However, my Mom stops me and asks, “Is this the ghetto? Why is dog crap all over the sidewalks?”  It was too much for her and I knew she was ready to hightail it back to the bourgeoisie part of town.  But I was determined to see the cathedral so she was going to have to talk to New Brenda and tell her to come on. LOL.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWe finally find the Russian Cathedral and it’s nice…but not exactly what I expected.  I guess because it was in the ghetto?  I expected something a bit grander (and in a nicer area of town).  Kind of like expecting St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City and getting St. Mary’s Hold My Mule So Help Me God Church of Christ AME on Bankhead Highway.  But, it was still pretty.

My Mom and I start walking to the Nice Ville train station.  Now, I don’t know why I think things in Europe are different.  In the states, the Greyhound is always in a seedy part of town.  But, I thought that since the train I took from London to Bath was in the nice Piccadilly area, maybe that’s how they roll across the pond.  I guess they didn’t share the memo with Nice. 

Then it happens.  We are waiting at a stoplight and suddenly some man almost knocks down a woman who is standing next to us waiting to cross at an intersection.  The lady was very dramatic about the whole scene and I recognized crazy instantly.  And, let me tell you…Nice has a whole new brand of crazy I ain’t never seen before (and yes, I had to use a grammatically incorrect sentence to highlight this fact).  My Mom was a beat behind since she thought it was just an ugly woman (he was a tad large and had man-breasts) but he had a buzz cut so I don’t know what she was thinking.  Being in the ghetto had her shook, I guess.

Anyway, Beat’em Up Bertrand (hereinafter known as “BUB”) dang near assaults a woman trying to rush to make the bus…and ends up missing it.  This is wear the C.R.A.Z.Y. comes out.  BUB decides he’s gonna cuss out the bus driver (or maybe just the bus because it was rolling down the street without poor BUB).  Then, once the bus is out of site…he decides to cuss out everybody else.  We are walking behind him and it’s like a bad car accident you just can’t stop looking at.  This fool takes his bottle of whatever (probably whiskey…you know crazy likes to stay bourre).  Oh, now “bourre” is my new favorite French word. It means “drunk” and is pronounced “boo-ray”.  You know I use it in sentences like, “I think he’s bourre’d” (because I don’t know how to conjugate in French so work with me).  That’s just how we do in Atlanta.  Anyway, Bourre Bertrand takes his bottle of spirits and THROWS it at a car that is pulling up to the intersection.  People are looking around at BUB but nobody says anything.  Not even the driver of the car.  They recognize he is bourre’d.  My Mom and I cross the street because that’s what my Grandmama told me to do when you see crazy.  He was out of control crazy. I don’t know what he was saying as it was in French but I have a pretty good idea because crazy people usually use the same 4 key phrases.  Maybe he should’ve walked over to the cathedral and talked to someone.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAfter witnessing the Battle of Bourre, we finally make it to the train station and are on our way to Cannes.  As I stated above, Cannes is about 30 minutes by train from Nice.  This city’s focus is on big money and shopping.  You won’t find a lot of museums.  But, the shopping and hotels are phenomenal if you can afford it (and sadly, I could not).  We went inside the Hotel Carlton (which I believe was the hotel used during the Cannes episode of “Entourage” but I need to double-check) and is the most famous address on the boulevard de la Croisette.  Rooms start at 750 Euro and go up to 5300 Euro. They embroider your name on the bathrobe and everything.  It really is a beautiful hotel.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

After leaving the Hotel Carlton, we went to see the Film Festival Hall where they show the movies during the annual Cannes Film Festival.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Afterwards, we ate at LaMocca restaurant which is across the street. I had the Tandoori Chicken & Coconut Mashed Potatoes.  I wasn’t sure how the mashed potatoes would taste with coconut but I’m always game to try something new.  It was delicious! My Mom had the antipasta dish which was tasty as well.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

At this point, it’s getting dark so we head back to the train station.  The train back to Nice was delayed by 30 minutes so I felt at home since this is a normal occurrence on MARTA 🙂  After we finally get on the train…next thing I know, the metro police are rushing through the train.  Some guy is looking guilty…like he may be trying to get his 13 virgins or something.  At this point, I’m like, “Are you there, God? It’s me, Nikki. Tell Margaret to hold on because she’s been tying up the line for dang near 40 years! Please save me from crazy and the Taliban. Amen.”  I guess he heard my prayers because the final 20 minutes were peaceful.

We leave Nice tomorrow morning and head over to Monte Carlo so I can win big money at the blackjack and roulette tables (cross your fingers!).  Au revoir!!!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The French Riviera: Day 2 “Nice is Nice”

Leave a comment

La Nice est magnifique!OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

January 3, 2010

Bonjour!  Today was our first full day in Nice.  The weather was mild (but still needed a coat) and the skies turned sunny by early afternoon.  Nice is a beautiful city.  You will fall in love with the market, the buildings, the sea, the people!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWe got a bit of a late start today due to jet lag but once my Mom and I got started, we were good to go.  The first item on our agenda was to walk about 5 minutes to Avenue Jean Medecin to find a place for breakfast.  We found the perfect cafe which had the best croissants & cafe au lait!!!  And, it was just 8 euro for 2 people!!!  You can’t beat that. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAfter breakfast, we walked down to Place Massena (which is Nice’s ground zero — everything old meets new).  I tend to agree with Rick Steve’s when he says that standing here makes him feel like he’s in St. Mark’s Square in Venice.  It has that feel…especially with the curved buildings around a central place/piazza. It also reminds me of Disneyland in a way.  With the colorful markets, Christmas decorations, piped-in music of children singing songs…it really had a fairytale feel.  But, then they started playing a Michael Jackson song so…maybe a Neverland feel?

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

After leaving Place Massena, I happened to see the most fabulous faux fur vest in a store window.  It was on sale and it fit.  It’s like the fates declared for me to have it! 

I was a bit nervous with the shopping because everybody that I see in France is tiny.  The store didn’t have sizes on the garments…I guess they could eyeball you to tell you whether or not you needed to keep on walking.  Although they spoke limited English (and I, limited French), the clerk & I were able to have a limited conversation…enough for him to ask if I was from South Africa.   

Which brings me to a point of observation…everybody who knows me well knows that I research my travel destinations thoroughly before I arrive.  Well, I had read several places that the French were a bit aloof and that you should have a rudimentary understanding of French or they would give you the side-eye.  That has not been my experience at all.  Most of the people I have met have been very friendly and understanding of my language “handicap”.  If we can’t figure something out with hand signals & my French/English phrase book, they find someone who can translate.  I do find myself defaulting to Italian when I’m searching for French words which just confuses them even further.  As far as people being rude, honestly, it’s the same as in the U.S.  As long as you are respectful and smile, the French will love you!

I met a guy named Bruno who was born in France but moved to Georgia (the U.S. state, not the country) when he was 16.  He actually owned a hair salon in Roswell for about 16 years or so before deciding to move back to Nice with his wife (who is American).  Bruno is fabulous…love him!!!  Now, I will admit that it is sometimes hard for me to understand accented English.  My friend, Abenaa (who is from Ghana), will testify to that.  I may have a blank look on my face while I try to figure out what you just said.  But, eventually, I will either get there or ask you to repeat what you said 🙂

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASo, back to our day.  We ended up shopping at the outdoor markets.  Let me just say that I absolutely LOVE the outdoor markets.  Nice is known for growing lavender and olives (and they have lots of it).  Everything is so fresh and upscale.  People are out with their dogs (they even bring them into cafes!).  Riley (my cocker spaniel) would be in heaven.  Maybe I’ll try to find him a little beret.  Of course, Riley is from the streets so I know he wouldn’t even entertain that.  Plus, he likes to fight so we’d get to walk about 2 minutes into the market before he thinks a Jack Russell terrier is mean mugging him and wants to go “introduce” himself.  He will probably write about it in his blog.

While in the market, I come across a beautiful painting and asked the seller if he is the  artist.  He says yes and we have a limited conversation (as he isn’t selling croissants or cafe au lait, I don’t have much more French to use).  I instantly fell in love with the painting as it seems so peaceful.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

After leaving the market with gifts for family and friends, we finally get to the the famed Promenade des Anglais (or “walkway for the English”).  It’s a 4 mile promenade along the Mediterranean Sea with stunning views of Nice around the bay.  This is what I had been waiting for.  The views are absolutely gorgeous!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

As we walked down the promenade, we came across some “rollerblade street performers”.  I have never seen anything like this.  They do all these rollerblade tricks to French & American hip hop music.  They were actually very entertaining.  We need that on Peachtree!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

After that, we continued down to the Palais de Mediterranee (which is gorgeous). 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Once we completed the 4 mile walk, we headed back to our flat thru Old Town Nice. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Then back home to rest & blog.  Tomorrow — Cannes!  Au revoir!!!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The French Riviera: Day 1 (Getting There)

2 Comments

*I’m migrating posts from my old blog to this site…so don’t get alarmed and think I’m suffering from dementia.  I still have at least 6 months before that gets ahold of me fully.*

French Riviera guidebook

January 2, 2010

Happy New Year everyone!!!  I pray that you all have a prosperous, blessed & happy 2010!  So excited to start the year off in Nice, France!  I decided that I was going to be a more patient person in 2010.  “New Nikki” is supposed to just brush off irritations and frustrations.  “Old Nikki” has been struggling with that concept for some years 🙂 

So, to that end, I decided to give US Airways another try for international travel.  If you read my Italy travel blog post from my trip in 2007, you already know that this was a big step for me as I had named them Beelzebub Airlines due to the drama that I had to deal with (delayed flights, lost luggage, etc).  So, New Nikki thought 2010 would be a year of second chances.  Sigh.  I arrived at Indianapolis International Airport 3 hours ahead of time since crazy folks had been out during Christmas trying to take down flights with firecrackers & possibly a 5 oz bottle of contact solution.  As soon as I stepped to the kiosk to check-in, the gate agent asked if I was connecting thru Philadelphia (where B-bub ALWAYS has an issue).  Once I answered affirmatively, the agent told me that he would need to re-book me on another flight since the flight I was scheduled to take in 3 HOURS would be late.  Apparently, the plane was having mechanical problems and they only have like 5 planes that operate nationally.  Seriously.  Why are there never enough planes to accommodate the mechanical failures?  Don’t they have Service Level Agreements with the manufacturers??? 

Anyway, B-bub Airlines decided to test New Nikki on the very first day of 2010.  The agent stated that instead of arriving in Nice at 10am, I would arrive late afternoon which effectively took out 1 day of my vacation.  New Nikki tried to see the silver lining, Old Nikki was like, “F&*K THAT!”  But, it’s a new year and I couldn’t cave 11 hours into 2010.  So, I sucked it up and tried to put a positive spin on it.

After waiting 5 hours, we are able to board the “repaired” plane.  The plane is pushed back from the gate…then the PA system comes on and the pilot says, “Brakes still don’t work.  Guess they weren’t fixed in Philadelphia.  Sorry.  We will have to cancel this flight.”  New Nikki — “At least we found out before we taxied too far”; Old Nikki — “F&*K THAT!”  I am a cracked plate, y’all.

Good news is that B-bub was able to get us on another flight within 30 minutes but I still missed my connection.  Which meant another 4 hours of waiting.  This caused me to drink a large number mimosas and wine in an effort to soothe my nerves.  Trust and believe that.  New Nikki tried to think “at least the international flight was only delayed by 10 minutes.”  Old Nikki’s response?  I think you already know.   I was able to leave B-bub in the dust and fly Air France from Paris to Nice.  Of course, B-bub is a bad influence because you know that after traveling for 22 hours, we get 2 crying kids in our row and the row behind us.  

I’ve decided that US Airways is like that friend you don’t really like but you feel sorry for them because they are so pitiful and against your better judgement, you decide to hang out with them.  You know the type.  They call, beg you to hang out and they even offer to drive.  Only to tell you after you are dressed and waiting that either 1) the car doesn’t have any tires or 2) they are running an hour late.  New Nikki has to side with Old Nikki on US Air.  It’s a wrap.

So, it took a total of almost 24 hours for me to fly from Indianapolis to Nice.  But, I am here and it’s fabulous so I’ll stop complaining.

We took a taxi to the apartment rental and let me tell you…these cabbies drive Audis and Mercedes and the few that I saw look like male supermodels (I’m sure there are a few that may not be runway ready but hey…New Nikki is trying).  Our taxi driver even turned up Jay-Z & Alicia Key’s “Empire State of Mind” during the drive.  So, not only do you get a cabbie, you get a dj!

After arriving late afternoon, My Mom and I checked into our vacation rental.  I got the idea of renting an apartment from tripadvisor.com.  There is much more space and it’s cheaper than a hotel.  Great location, free internet, lots of room and it’s really peaceful.  We rented a 2 bedroom apartment from Nice Pebbles.  As you can see below, it’s a really cute little place and definitely a sight for sore eyes after a long day of travel. 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.


We will do some sightseeing tomorrow.  Good night!

2012 Update:  New Nikki never made it back.  She tries to make an appearance every year but sadly, she ends up being beaten to death by Old Nikki in a fit of rage over something.  She’s going to try to make it work in 2013 but I think we all know how that is going to end.  Don’t tell her though…she has hope.  And clearly some issues since she’s talking about herself in the 3rd person.

The Life of a Nomad

5 Comments

The life of a nomad isn’t an easy one. Sweltering heat, freezing cold, scorpions and snakes…these are just a few things to worry about living in the desert.  I had the pleasure of meeting a nomad family during my visit to the Sahara.  My first reaction was one of sympathy…but by the time I left, I felt humbled.

Nomad camp

In order to get around in the Sahara, you have to either walk, ride a camel or drive a 4×4.  As we were on our way to our own camp, we were invited to visit with an interesting nomad family.  Luckily we had our fabulous guide, Tata, to translate and inform of us traditional customs.

I was told that there are 9 people who make up the nomad family I spent time with (a mix of men, women and children).  What immediately struck me were the “structures” that were built for cooking, showering and shelter.  I assumed that nomads were constantly moving from place to place with no sense of permanency.  However, I found out that these nomads usually stay in a place for 3-4 months before moving on. The catalyst for the move is usually the fact that the food source (grass, etc) has dried up for the camels & animals they raise.

The Sahara covers 3.5 MILLION MILES.  And while the popular thought is that deserts are dry & barren, the Sahara has pockets of areas that are abundant with food and water sources.  However, these sources aren’t unlimited which is why nomads have to move on in search for new sources.  They do tend to come back to the structures they built before…after enough time has passed so that grass has been able to grow again.  Kind of like these settlements are their 2nd, 3rd and 4th homes.

sleeping quarters

The ladies allowed me to spend time investigating their housing structures and asking questions.  I noticed that there were 3 separate sleeping quarters.  One area was completely covered on all sides to protect them from rain and harsher elements, while the second was more open to allow for air during the hot, dry months.  The third seemed to be a combination of the two…walled but open ceiling.  I also noticed that there were a lot of toys…big wheels, bikes, dolls, Transformers, etc.  The kids had plenty to entertain them.  I don’t know what the adults do…there is no television.  And they don’t seem to understand how much their life is lacking because they can’t watch Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

While these women did not have a lot of “wealth”, they were so gracious to offer us mint tea.  Which seems to be typical of Moroccans.  They may not have a lot of material things, but they are the most hospitable people I’ve met.  You can count on being asked to stay for tea and cookies.

Since our guide knew this family, the ladies were open to answering my questions.  And I had a lot.  Below are some highlights.

kitchen

Q.  Why do you opt to live in the desert moving from place to place?  Why not living in a city with a more permanent home?

A.  This is what we know.  We grew up as nomads and find the desert to be peaceful.  Cities are too chaotic and noisy.  Too many people and sounds.  We like the solitude of the Sahara and not having to constantly see other people.

Q.  How do you get food & water to feed your family?

A.  We dig wells to get water.  Once a month, our family will drive into Merzouga [the city right outside the Sahara] and get supplies.  Mostly grains to make couscous and vegetables.  We are also able to find food here in the desert which we will catch or gather.

Q.  How do you get to Merzouga?  Do you have a car?

A.  Sometimes we are able to borrow a car from another family.  Other times we use our camels to get us to the edge of the Sahara then ask for a ride into town.

Q.  How do you earn money to buy supplies?

A.  The men offer the camels to tourists for rides thru the desert.  The women and children sell trinkets.  Usually small toy camels or dolls that we make from scraps of cloth we are able to find.

During this time, a little boy around the age of 2 has started crying.  His mother tells the guide that she is worried that something is wrong with his legs as he has refused to walk all day.  We take a look to make sure there is no swelling, redness or tenderness.  Then, the guide says that he will escort them to the hospital to have the boy examined.  But, the mother says that she cannot leave without permission of her husband.  She pulls out a cellphone (I know…who knew they had those?  And the next question I wanted to ask was where she charged it since they had no electricity?) and tries to get in contact with her husband to no avail.

As we end our visit, our guide gives the mother his number with the instruction to call him once her husband came back so they could take her son to the hospital.  He even offered to pay the medical bills. 

The next morning, while hiking thru the sand dunes, I am stopped by 3 little girls.  They told me they were 8 and 9 years old.  When I asked if they went to school, only one said yes.  She lives in Merzouga with her mother but comes to the Sahara during the weekends to visit with her father.  During the time I’m asking questions, they have spread out their trinkets to sell.  While I didn’t buy anything, I did give them some money so that I could take their picture.

3 nomad girls

I grew up with plenty of advantages…and the expectation that not only would I graduate from high school, but I would graduate from college as well.  So, it was mind-boggling to meet children who don’t go to school.  While it is hard for me to grasp living without electricity (I mean, I get the shakes when my iPhone dies and I don’t have a way to charge it for a couple of hours), there is a certain tranquility in being able to unplug from the world and just enjoy the solitude.  No emails or text messages to answer.  No demands.  No stress.  No noise (not even crickets…it is dead quiet).  Just stars lighting up the sky.

While some children grow up and leave the nomad life, others are content to raise animals and move from place to place following in the footsteps of their forefathers.  It’s an interesting life…one that I know I’m not strong enough to live, but I am smart enough to respect.  If you ever have the chance to visit the Sahara (and I strongly suggest you do…it is unbelievable), please take time out to visit with a nomad family (but definitely go with a guide…don’t just show up saying, “Hi, got some mint tea?”).  The next time I visit, I plan to take them supplies (grains, vegetables, toys for the kids, blankets, etc.).  If you can, I recommend you do the same.  As Oprah says, “pay it forward.”  The great thing about that?  You can pay it forward anywhere in the world.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Nikki’s Notes: Project Effie

Leave a comment

Sigh.  I don’t think the Executive Assistant of my group likes me.  I know.  Who can’t like me?  Apparently Linda.  I can’t stand when people don’t like me (except if it’s my nemises…he can suck it).  It all started last week.  I got promoted to a new position within a business segment which meant I had to move to a new floor.  That move required leaving my wonderful office and relocating to a cube.  A CUBICLE!  Where I have to use keys to lock desk drawers before Burglar Billy comes to steal my purse because I don’t have a door.  I now suffer from OSA…Office Separation Anxiety.  But, I am trying to work thru it.  So, last week, I am trying to sneak out of my cube and go to the gym so I can stop looking like the light-skinned Precious.  But, before I can make it to the door, someone needs something so I go back to my desk and lay my keys down.  I am not quite sure what happened next.  OSA causes temporary memory loss.  

After I finish responding to emails (3 hours later), it’s time to leave the “office” for the day.  So, I try to open the desk drawer (assuming that’s where I put my keys) and it’s locked.  Instantly, I thought “BILLY GOT ME!”  I looked everywhere around my small cube.  It takes me 3 minutes.  *sobs*  I try opening the desk drawer again and it’s not budging.  Now, I’m sounding the alarms and freaking out.  I just knew I would get robbed being out in the element (that’s what I call cube living).  I go to see Linda (and interrupt her gossip session) to let her know that I had been ROBBED!  How am I supposed to get home?  Has someone stolen my car from the parking garage?  What is going on?  She checks to see if someone sent an email to her saying they had my keys.  I knew Billy wasn’t going to do that.  Billy was driving my car down I-75 screaming out “GOTCHA CUBER!” 

I leave her and go see Security.  That’s right.  I talk to our Director of Security.  He’s former FBI and I am asking him to put together a profile on Billy.  What motivates him to steal from cubes?  Maybe they need to dust for prints?  Check surveillance tapes…do we have those?  He looks at me…and I look right back at him asking if he needs to take notes or just plans on remembering all the information I’m giving him.  OSA is serious, y’all…it has PTSD symptoms.  I’ve got the folks in Security calling down to the front guard and checking on my car.  Then, I head back upstairs to wait on the maintenance man from Facilities (who Linda had called).  This was back when Linda liked me…before “it” happened.  She was so concerned.  I mean, I had no keys and my car had been jacked. 

I’m on the phone with a friend arranging transportation home when Leroy the Maintenance Guy shows up.  As I am pouring out my woes of being a victim of a cube Ponzi scheme, Leroy takes his keys and opens my desk drawer…and there were my keys.  Leroy and Linda both look at me like I’m a child that tells stories for attention.  I’m like, “Leroy, you just unlocked that drawer so you know it was locked.”  He just rolled his eyes.  You know what, Leroy?  Crabs in a barrel, buddy.

At this point, Linda has sighed and walked away…disappointed.  I send her an email to apologize and she’s like, “okay.”  DON’T BE THAT WAY, LINDA!  HOW DID I KNOW?  BILLY IS A FREAKING MAGICIAN (I haven’t given up on my Billy the Burglar accusation).  I just can’t break thru the ice wall Linda has erected.  She treats me like Celie did Mister.  If there are treats in the break room, she will tell my neighbor and look at me like, “STARVE MADEA!”  When I asked for her help in ordering new business cards…she told me to go on the internet in a voice that made me think she feels I am special needs.  I can’t stand it.

So, now I have come up with Project Effie.  You know Effie…from Dreamgirls?  Jennifer Holiday/Hudson’s character?  Looks like I’m gonna have to make my famous gorilla bread, bring in a boombox and start singing, “And I am telling you…I’m not going…AND YOU, AND YOU, AND YOU….YOU’RE GONNA LOVE ME, LINDA!”  If that doesn’t work, I will start on Project Obi Wan Kenobi…Jedi mind tricks always work.  Ha!

Race Series: Firefly Illuminated 5K Night Run

6 Comments

sourced from Firefly websiteWant to run with glow sticks and covered in LED lights?  Check out the Firefly Illuminated 5K/10K Night Run.   Currently, this race is offered in Atlanta, Houston, Dallas, Phoenix, Denver, Chicago and San Jose.  But keep checking the website as they may add new cities.

Atlanta only offered the 5K run starting & finishing at Piedmont Park.  There were about 4 hills so the run was actually a little tough!  I didn’t die of water cancer or think about pushing a kid off a scooter so all in all, I’d say it’s a win 🙂

I formed a team named The Glitterati.  We had an awesome time!  There was plenty of music, bananas, water and great people!  Between the neon glowing wigs to lighted fairy wings, there was a bit of everything.  Running inspires camaraderie and it’s amazing how you will strike up a conversation with complete strangers over the common theme of racing.

Want more information on what to expect?  Check out the video below!

So if you are looking for a great night race to try, check out the Firefly Illuminated 5K/10K Night Run.  You will have a BLAST!

Team Glitterati

race swag

Now, I’m looking for my next race.  What do you recommend?  What’s your favorite race(s)?

Travelin’ Mr./Mrs. Daisy

1 Comment

This post is intended to help you learn how to travel with your parents.  Once your parents are eligible for social security, something happens.  I don’t know what it is.  But trust me.  Here are some handy dandy tips to make your family travel experience smoother.

1.  Guidebook Dilemma

Most of us use guidebooks to prepare and use for travel.  It makes sense to follow the advice of someone who has been there, done that.  Unless you are my Dad.  I swear by Rick Steves.  His guidebooks have always provided me with helpful tips.  However, a map (usually hand drawn in the books) was off/unclear during our trip to Rome.  Which meant that Rick can’t be trusted to tell you the time of day.  Sorry, Rick.  You had your chance.  No second chances with Mr. Daisy.  My Dad acts like he suffers from Rick Steves PTSD.  When I suggest some international destination to visit, his response is, “Did Steve Bob’s recommend that?”  Because he is not going to get Rick’s name right.  That’s what happens when you have 2 first names & you mess up directions.

My Mom, however, has to find every book related to the country we plan to visit.  I usually stick with the big 3:  Rick Steves, Lonely Planet or Eyewitness Travels.  She found The Cadogan Guide to Morocco by Barnaby Rogerson on Amazon.  This guide has a bit more color than usual guides. For instance, Mr. Rogerson says the following about sexual attitudes in Morocco, “”Moroccans also tend to think of themselves as immeasurably more virile & potent than Western men. However chaste your intentions, why not pack some condoms beside the sun cream and romantic fiction?” Really, Barnaby? Now I have to put an “elderly lock” on my Mom’s laptop.

Do yourself a favor and just handle all the travel and prep.  Monitor their internet & tv usage because this can lead to trouble.  Retired people find time to explore & become scholars based on the latest gossip from “Spacebook”.  My Dad has become an international travel expert based solely on 60 Minutes reports from Mike Wallace that aired 15 years ago.  It doesn’t matter if you have been there and he hasn’t.  You don’t know the real deal.  Don’t become a victim.  You will only get confused trying to wade thru their attempt at using hip jargon.  My Dad can’t grasp the concept of BFFs.  He keeps saying BSFF…like it’s Best Super Friends Forever.  I don’t know.  See how I just got sucked into that?

Only 8 kilometers? Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis? That should say 12!

The look they give you when you suggest something “exotic”.

2.  You’re Taking Me Where?

Not all elderly parents (and by elderly, I mean anybody older than you) can handle “exotic” trips to Miami.  I blame Mike Wallace.  My Dad isn’t into traveling to Africa and Italy was full of too many basilicas.  When I suggested London, I was met with “I don’t want to look at butter teeth.”  I tried to explain that their dental care has improved since the 1800’s but Mike can’t verify that since he passed away.  I then attempted to talk my Dad into going on a safari.  His response?  “I haven’t lost anything in Africa.”  See a pattern?  Don’t try to force it, kids.  Let your parents go on a jazz cruise where they can fall asleep on the Lido Deck after slurping down a 189 ounce daiquiri while listening to the sleepy time music of Brian Culbertson.

Now, if you happen to have an adventurous parent, keep it in perspective.  Your type of adventure isn’t theirs.  There will be no backpacking or taking public transportation.  Understand that now.  You can’t make your mother walk 3 blocks after she spent 202 hours in labor with you 40 years ago.  You are still paying on that.  It’s like labor layaway.  Ease them into the adventure.  Morgan Freeman didn’t tell Miss Daisy to take MARTA.  He made sure she was comfortable and that her needs were attended to.

3.  Once, Twice, Three Times Too Much

Some parents like to overpack.  You know how you grew up hearing, “You can’t ever be too prepared”?  That is a lie.  You can be too prepared.  Don’t fall for that.  And, the older they get, the more “prepared” they get.  During one trip, the guidebook said we should plan to bring toilet tissue as some bathrooms may not have any.  I bought a 24 pack of Tush Wipes and told my Mom not to worry about that.  So why did she show up with 3 rolls of toilet paper?  I don’t know.  Apparently, 24 wipes + 3 rolls of Quilted Northern seemed like the right amount for a 12 day trip for 2 people.  Don’t let your parents take a Sam’s Club approach to packing.  You’ll be the one hauling it around.  Remember, labor layaway.  Some things you can’t get around.  Do you remember Titanic when Rose came on the ship at the beginning of the movie and had 44 trunks and 132 picture frames?  That is what you are battling against.  Don’t let your Mom bring every item from Magellans…or your Dad bring his tool belt because you never know when something will need to be fixed.  Have an intervention if you need to.  Because if you don’t, Delta will.

4.  Picture Time

I took a travel photography class to learn how to capture creative images that don’t look like Honey Boo Boo took them.  This requires setting up your shot…which means you must have patience.  Especially for someone new at it.  I’ve got some news for you.  Elderly parents aren’t patient.  They don’t have time to wait on you to set up a shot.  Take the picture as you are walking.  Who cares if it is blurry.  That’s your fault.  Practice walking and clicking.

The deluxe “ghetto”

5.  25 Star Hotels

Elderly parents have a Kanye West mindset to travel.  Which means that 5 star hotels may not be enough.  Ask yourself this question…Would Oprah stay there?  If you are not 100% certain, then find someplace else.  Yeah, you might have to sell yourself on the streets but that’s what happens.  Labor Layaway.  That’s the Big Joker to any argument you may have.  Parents will always win.  You can’t make your Mom stay someplace that is 4 stars after you ripped her open and then refused to sleep thru the night for weeks.

For example, my Mom and I did the 5 star hotel option for our recent trip to Morocco.  Which included an upgrade to a deluxe tent in the Sahara Desert.  The tent had 2 twin beds (complete with mattresses on frames), bathroom (which included a shower) and sitting room.  But, it is a tent…in the Sahara.  My Mom was like, “What is this?”  I don’t know if she thought there was a Ritz Carlton – Sahara or what.  Now, in my mind, I had already prepared myself for the fact that I would encounter a bug or 2.  I already had my Avon Skin So Soft and Off (courtesy of my Mom).  The operators had the nerve to shut the power off at night so my Mom couldn’t keep the lights on for fear that bats would swoop in, turn into Dracula, and bite us.  What would happen if we turned into vampires?  We didn’t have any True Blood in our emergency preparedness kit (there wasn’t enough space with all the toilet paper).  Around 1am, I awake to my Mom screaming about scorpions.  She’s got her flashlight on and pointed towards her face like it’s the Moroccan Blair Witch Project.  I’m trying to figure out what is going on.  I mean, I know she isn’t serious.  I must be dreaming this.  Did my mint tea have another type of herb in it?  I’m confused.  At this point, she has moved into my twin bed and made the proclamation that she will NEVER sleep in that bed again because there is a scorpion the size of a “cow” in it.  But, before I could find Bessie the Scorpion and lead her out of the tent, my Mom wanted me to see if her arm was swelling.  Sigh.  After confirming that there was no swelling, I check the bed and can’t find the Velociraptor-sized scorpion.  I did see a big cockroach though.  Lest you think we are going to sleep peacefully together in a small twin bed, I’ve got news for you…we are not.  Labor layaway requires counseling sessions as well.  And, my Mom had to question why there was no actual door on the tent.  You read that right.  And, I’m sure that will go into the survey feedback she is working on right now.  See, as you get older, things don’t have to make sense.  A tent in the Sahara to young people means just that.  But to older people?  It means a cottage with a fireplace, butler and an exterminator on speed dial.

I’m pretty sure it was the Scorpion King who came into the tent.

6.  Hustled

Hustlers target older people because it’s easy.  Older people don’t like to be hassled and would prefer to pay you 110% more than you deserve just to get you to leave them alone.  Younger people?  We will protest on basic principle.  If the guidebook says that you should tip $2 to a porter for getting your bags out of the car, you can best believe that that is what you are going to get if there is nothing exceptional about the service.  Are they pushing the luggage up a hill?  Okay, they get extra.  But to take my luggage that I lugged all the way thru the airport and just move it from my hand to the trunk?  TWO DOLLARS, buddy.  But, this philosophy can only work when you aren’t traveling with older parents.  Just pay the man.  I don’t care that you had to ask your guide to go to Lowes – Marrakesh to find a storm door for the tent.  Make it rain.

7.  Trying Something New

Not all parents will try something new.  My Mom is really good about being open to certain things.  But, my Dad?  Forget it.  Here are some examples of new things I tried to expose him to:

Me:  Hi Dad, I brought you some boisenberry jam back from London!  Try it.

Dad: *puts the jam on a biscuit…then spits it out*  This is the nastiest stuff I’ve ever tasted in my life.  Do me a favor and don’t ever bring me back anything to eat.  This must be why they have yellow teeth that look like they’ve been chewing on rocks.

——————–

Me:  I went to a public hammam in Morocco.  It was a surreal experience.  You should try it!

Dad:  I don’t need my booty scrubbed.

——————-

Mom:  I learned how to make chocolate molten lava cake at a Pastry & Desserts class in Paris.  What do you think?

Dad:  This doesn’t have anything on Chili’s chocolate lava cake.  Where is the chocolate sauce?  Why isn’t caramel drizzled over it?  You don’t have any Breyer’s ice cream to go with this?  Paris seems awful plain to me.

I’m sure that my Dad is finding a cooking class at the local Chili’s right now.  That will be his Christmas gift for my mother.  Bottom line, if you are traveling with elderly parents (or just folks that are older and like to go on Robin Leach-style vacations), do yourself a favor and take my advice above.  Need further convincing, read my post from Las Vegas.  Last tip for you?  Pack a flask and your favorite spirits.  You’ll need their guidance 🙂

A Christian Among Muslims

4 Comments

I had the pleasure of spending 8 days in the Muslim country of Morocco.  To be honest, I was a bit nervous after reading the warnings in the guidebooks.  I was aware of a bombing of a tourist cafe in Jamaa el-Fnaa square in Marrakesh in April 2011 as well as a general anti-American sentiment from people who had visited the country in the early to mid-2000’s.  However, I was assured by the local travel agency I used that it was completely safe for Americans to visit.  And, I am so glad that I did.

I’ve traveled to many countries and, on the whole, Moroccans have been the kindest and most generous people I have met.  The people I met treated me as a family member as it is a very family oriented society.  When an old friend passes by, Moroccans don’t just say “hi”…they take time to ask about the individual’s health, family, job, etc.  They also greet each other as “brother” or “sister”.  In addition to treating each other (and people they don’t know) warmly, they gave money to the disabled and elderly, and they made religion their priority.  Everything revolves around Allah.  You will hear a call to prayer over loudspeakers five times a day.

During my visit, I had some great conversations about religion.  I wanted to understand the basics of Islam as well as the culture.  I am a Christian and being American, I’ve heard a lot of “anti-Muslim” rhetoric since 9/11.  Quite honestly, I get tired of people and certain media demonizing an entire religion based upon the actions of extremists.  As my late grandmother used to say, “not everybody who goes to church is a Christian.”  Every religion has its own sect of crazies.  Westboro Baptist does not represent me or my beliefs.  Yet, they call themselves “Christians.”  Hitler saw himself as Christian.  And, I am sure the Catholic priests who molested little boys see themselves as Christians too.  Just as al-Qaeda sees themselves as Muslims. 

Claiming a religion doesn’t automatically make you the representative of it.  Everybody has their own set of beliefs…whether they believe in a form of religion or not.  But, all of us have a belief system.  Whether we worship God, Allah, Buddha…or a set of gods…or none at all.  The bottom line, I feel, is that we should be able to respect those that are different from us. 

In speaking with some Muslims in Morocco, I was able to learn the following about the differences in our religions:

1.  They regard Jesus as a respected prophet, not God. I think this is the biggest difference.  That’s the essence of the message of Islam…which is to call upon people to worship the one God of Abraham, Isaac, Moses, Jesus, etc.

2.  They don’t believe in the original sin.  I’m told that the Quran mentions the story of Adam, Eve and the apple but places the blame on Adam and Eve equally, then forgave them. Thus, Jesus didn’t die on a cross nor did He die for anyones sins (since we are born sinless). He was raised to heaven and will return before the end of times.

3.  They are accountable for their actions. On the day of judgment, their deeds will be weighed.  Belief alone does not guarantee them Heaven. Their good actions have to outweigh their bad actions. These deeds could be anything from praying to God to serving for a better humanity.

Islam has 5 pillars that every Muslim must practice:

1.  Shahadah = the declaration that there is none worthy of worship except Allah and that Muhammad is his messenger.

2.  Prayer (Salat) = establishing of the five daily Prayers.

3.  The paying of alms (Zakat) = which is generally 2.5% of the total savings for a rich man working in trade or industry, and 10% or 20% of the annual produce for agriculturists. This money or produce is distributed among the poor.

4.  Fasting (Sawm) = refraining from eating, drinking or satisfying other needs from dawn to dusk in the month of Ramadan, the ninth month in the Islamic lunar calendar (usually around August/September).

5.  The Pilgrimage to Mecca (Hajj) = this is done during the month of Zul Hijjah, and is compulsory once in a lifetime for one who has the ability to do it. If the Muslim is in ill-health or in debt, he or she is not required to perform Hajj.

While there are differences (mainly that Christians recognize God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit), there are some similarities (we fast from time to time, pay tithes, help the less fortunate and pray).  I’m not saying that one religion is better than the other.  I am a Christian.  However, my grandmother is a Jehovah’s Witness.  I’ve had to learn from an early age to figure out differences and make a decision on what I believe is true.  Just because I don’t agree with the tenets of certain religions doesn’t mean I should disrespect them.  As long as our rights and person aren’t infringed upon, we should be able to live in peace.

The terrorists from 9/11 and from the recent U.S. embassy attacks are horrible people.  And so was Queen Mary (also known as Bloody Mary) who burned Protestants on the stake for refusing to convert to Catholicism.  History is riddled with those who want to use violence & murder to uphold their “religious beliefs.”  Let’s not judge an entire religion based upon the acts of a few.  Making Muslim synonymous with terrorism is wrong.  Just like the anti-Muslim movie that has caused a firestorm recently was wrong.  I think if we quit judging others, we will find that we are more alike than we realize.  Of course, this is just my humble opinion.

The Name Game

2 Comments

Naming your child is like a game of Craps…you roll the dice and pray that your kid doesn’t put you in assisted living because of it.

I’m sure when my parents named me, they thought they’d found a nice, normal name.  How were they supposed to know that Prince Rogers Nelson was looking thru the Big Book of Baby Names trying to find a nice title for his ode to masturbation???  Prince was probably perusing through the book saying, “Darling Annie?  Nope…she has a musical named after her and was rescued by rich folks.  I need something more street…Darling Shantae?  Nope, too ethnic, there needs to be a name that all races can identify with.  Oh, here we go…Nikki.”

Yeah, it was great growing up with my own theme song.  Growing up is hard enough without having your own parental advisory soundtrack.

Kids will claim to know about everything…they are just big perpetrators.  Kind of like Sarah Palin.  Have you ever tried to tell a kid something only to hear, “I KNOW!  GOD!  I’M NOT A BABY!”?  But they don’t know and come off looking like a complete idiot.  I was one of those idiots…absolutely refusing to ask the meaning of something because I thought that it would weaken my “cool” rep (which, let’s be honest…I had no rep) at school.

When I was in 3rd grade, a boy came up to me on the playground and said “Darling Nikki, do you masturbate to magazines?”  My response?  “Yeah, all the time!”  No way was I going to act like I didn’t know what the word “masturbate” meant. I had a rep to protect.  I’d figure that out when I got home.

After school, I went home and asked my Dad “What does masturbate mean?”  His response?  He just walked away from me.  Like I was a crazy homeless person who had offended his delicate sensibilities.  My Dad doesn’t respond well to those types of questions.

For example, one day, my Mom gave me a book titled, “So, You Got Your Period?”  I guess it was a self-help book to young girls who suddenly find themselves bleeding and can’t find a big enough band-aid for their vagina.  And, really?  A book, Mom?  We couldn’t have just had “the talk”?  I have one of those mothers who thinks books provide the answers to everything.  If I have an issue, she will find a book about it on Amazon and send it to me with a note that says, “I think you will find this helpful.”  Ten-year old Nikki was mortified by “So, You Got Your Period?”  There were pictures of a woman’s uterus and chapters on the wonders of menstruating and exploring the exciting changes in your body.  Seriously.  My Mom told me to read it then we would discuss.  Like it’s book club.  Anyway, my brother saw the book and at the dinner table (where all the crazy happens) he looks at my Dad and asks, “What’s a period?”  I knew that question was a non-starter based on the look of incredulity on my father’s face.  He responds “A dot at the end of a sentence.  Now eat your peas.”  Then he gets up from the table and walks away.

Anyway, I was determined to find out what masturbate meant.  My rep was everything!  So, I followed my Dad around and pestered him until I got a response.  And, finally, he told me that masturbate meant coloring in a book.  He should know me better than that.  I grew up with a mother that made us use new words in a sentence all the time!  I spent the next couple of months thinking masturbation was a cool new way to color.  At a family reunion, I walked up to my aunt and said, “Hey, I just masturbated all over this coloring book.  Do you like it?”  My Dad happened to be standing next to me…he walked away.  Once my Mom explained what the word meant (she probably gave me a book titled, “So, You Want to Know About Masturbation?”), I was mortified.  And pissed that I had gotten caught slipping at school.

Darling Nikki was a turning point in my life.  That song put me on the map at Richards Elementary and introduced me to the greatest artist…Prince.  I had to go to my friend’s house to listen to him because my parents refused to buy his “nastiness” (to quote my Dad).  I had no idea what he was singing about or the fact that most of the songs were sexually explicit.  He just seemed really cool with the lace & ruffled blouses he’d wear while riding a motorcycle.  Prince was my boo (well, my boo on the side because I still considered myself Mrs. Michael Jackson).  I wanted my parents to take me to a Prince concert so bad.  For some reason, my father felt it was inappropriate to take a 9-year-old to see a man gyrate around stage wearing buttless pants.

So, my parents compromised and took me to a New Edition concert instead.  Bet they rethought that after watching Being Bobby Brown.  Butless pants don’t seem so bad next to a crackhead.