First week

   After a long flight over the Atlantic and a few days spent in Grasse (near Cannes), we finally made it to Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, our temporary new home. On a sunny day, this place looks like a summer paradise smack in the middle of winter. I haven't seen water this blue in quite a while.

Our little apartment is adorable and actually larger than I had expected. A woman's touch in the decor is pretty evident: the walls are painted baby pink, my bedroom is apparently safari themed (animal print everywhere), and cutesy trinkets and wall decorations seal the deal . We're only about an 8-minute walk from the Mediterranean sea (as well as the train station), and all other necessities are nearby. Now, if only we could find some temporary work...

Here are a few random photos of our daily outings in town and by the water.

A few days ago, we walked to Monaco. No joke, we walked to Monaco. It's about a two-hour walk on a path that follows the "cap" (cape). It was beautiful! You can see Monaco in one of the photos below. Fun fact: palm trees and cacti seem to thrive here, so we get a little piece of home/Arizona!

We've definitely had some mishaps here thus far:


1. The key to our gate apparently only locks/unlocks from the outside, but doesn't unlock from the inside. So, yours truly had to climb up the wall and jump down to get us out. I'm sure I looked pretty silly. 
2. European appliances are a tad more confusing than American ones (no user-friendly pictures for us idiots), so our first load of laundry caused a mini-flood in our kitchen. It turns out that it wasn't our fault, though! There was nowhere for the water to drain. 
3. After not showering for a few days after our flights, Magali and I were very much looking forward to showers in our new apartment. Unfortunately, we didn't have hot water. That was probably the single most disappointing (and somewhat miserable) part of this trip.
4. The French sometimes have an interesting work ethic. They kind of do whatever they want. We needed to make doubles of our keys, so we took them down the street to the key guy, who said it would take "une petite demi-heure" (a little/short half an hour). We went for a morning cafe creme and croissant to kill the half hour, only to return to a sign that read he'd be back in five minutes. Five minutes turned into ten, which turned into fifteen, which turned into twenty when he finally decided to show up. It was pretty chilly out, but he had our keys so we weren't able to get our jackets during the wait, and we kept thinking that he would show up any minute. Oh how that would not slide in the US.