
I hiked to the fortress and on my way up I couldn't stop feeling overwhelmingly reluctant that I would be leaving France. The French Riviera is not the most French place in the world; its got alot of Italian influence from the nearby Italian Riviera, Morocan influence from all the illegals, and German influence from all the rich folks up there who travel to the Riviera for holiday. I didn't feel like I'd really experienced France. Sure, I thought when I first arrived how French everything seemed, but I realized I was mistaken. With a Kebab stand on every corner, a Chinese food restaurant every block, and a KFC, its hard to feel like you're traveling in France. Eze, though, completely rearranged this feeling. Its truly no wonder that F. Scott Fitzgerald was so inspired by the Riviera. All Eze made me want to do was write and paint and be creative. I went into two hole-in-the-wall shops which turned out to be art galleries. The artists were both sitting at their easels in their oil stained pants and smudged white t-shirts working their day away. I had the most desperate need, then, to be one of them, sitting in a shop inside a medieval fortress painting for a living. What other kind of life is there?
Outside there were spice sellers. Seriously. I bet that every day they work in a garden growing crazy herbs, grind them up in their kitchen, and bring them outside to sell. There were ceramic shops and jewlery shops and everything is made right in front of your eyes. Small business still booms! Its just in France and not America. Too be in that flourishing little town was a great way to say bonjour to France.
Arrivederci, for now.
Love, Gabby.
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