It sure spelled out who qualifies for priority seating. "To liberte, egalite, fraternite, add inclusiveness," I thought to myself with a wee chuckle. After reflecting on the photo — while wondering just how to dip my toe in the blogosphere — I realized that the sign speaks volumes about what attracts me to living in France. Inclusiveness is not just a notion here, it's a cherished tenet. The French are an inclusive lot; as long as you are first and foremost French (or at least a Francophile on some level), they don't much care if you also happen to be a woman or a man, black or white, gay or straight, dog or human (although I think they like dogs better). It makes France feel like home to me.
Of course, the allure of the Mediterranean Sea is a also big draw. The
And then there's the food. I plan to report on all of the gastronomic delights of the region on another blog, Bite d'Azur (stay tuned for details). About a week after arriving in Nice, I found a patisserie that makes my favorite pastry: the Paris-Brest. It's named after a the oldest bicycle race still run, and it's filled with sinfully creamy hazelnut-praline buttercream.
