Vieux-Nice and More

Yesterday, after arriving in Nice, I took a brief walk near my hotel, which I cut somewhat short due to the rain that started. In my reporting on that, I said that the area, while quite attractive, lacked the charm and age of Arles’ old town, which I’d just left. I also said that during my subsequent time in Nice, with more concerted sightseeing, I might find an old section of Nice with more charm.

I’m happy to report that such a neighbourhood does exist in Nice. It’s formally called Vieux-Nice (Old-Nice) or, sometimes, Vielle Ville (Old Town). I’ve also seen Vieux-Nice spelled “Vieux Nice,” i.e., without the hyphen. But the tourism office’s website spells it with the hyphen, so I will too.

I spent most of my morning in Vieux-Nice, but stopped to take a look at a church on the way.

Before getting into that, I discovered that I lucked into being in Nice during Carnaval de Nice, which runs from February 11 through March 1 this year. I’ll retroactively decide later whether I meant “lucked into” sarcastically.

This morning, the Carnaval had little impact on me. The interior of the church I started the morning at, Basilique Notre-Dame, had some equipment set up for a light show that happens inside at I-don’t-know-what time. The equipment didn’t obscure much of the church.

According to a leaflet I was handed on the street near the church, today is the day of La Carnivalina. An English-language page on the carnival’s website says that the Carnivalina is a festive walk, a parade if you will, lasting from 2:00 to 6:00 p.m., that is “the Carnival virus, a virus that spreads joy, smiles, treats, and floral scents, making you want to celebrate.”

Oh, great. A virus. I don’t think any of the many vaccine shots I’ve had cover that. I’m writing these words on my phone while having lunch. So I don’t yet know if I’ll take in the Carnivalina. If I do, because of my acute allergy to crowds, I’ll probably take a brief look and scurry away quickly.

I won’t post this until I’m on my computer back in my hotel, probably just before going to dinner. So, by the time I hit, or possibly just tap, the “publish” button, I’ll already know if I took in any of La Carnivalina. But I won’t come back and insert that information here. I’ll save it as a surprise for my afternoon post.

La Carnivalina starts in front of Basilique Notre-Dame and proceeds down the street the church faces. The only other evidence I saw of the Carnaval de Nice this morning was near the end of that street. A large public square was largely filled with metal-frame tiers of temporary seating stands and show lighting scaffolding.

I doubt that’s solely a viewing area for La Carnivalina. I imagine other carnival shows happen in that venue. But there was nothing on when I was there.

Two large, playful, colourful statues also stand in the square. I think they might be the king and queen of Carnaval de Nice, but I don’t know.

Basilique Notre-Dame

Basilique Notre-Dame is not old, as old European churches go. It was built in 1848. But the style it chose, Gothic, makes it look much older.

It very much resembles what my passing acquaintance has led me to equate with Gothic churches. There are two stone towers out front and three doors, each with arches and peaks above them. Its interior is austere, with stone columns and walls and a ribbed, vaulted ceiling.

The Basilique Notre-Dame has several vibrant stained glass windows. Probably more than half of them depict religious scenes. The rest display patterns.

Vieux-Nice

Vieux-Nice is the old Nice I sought.

Most of the buildings are four to six storeys tall. Each is painted with one colour of a diverse, but complementary palette of pastel hues. Some of the buildings were not just charming but had interesting architecture.

The streets vary from the equivalent of a little narrower to a little wider than a one-lane, one-way street. I say “the equivalent of” because “lane” implies a lane of traffic. Almost all of the streets in Vieux-Nice are solely for pedestrians. I saw only one exception: a single lane of one-way traffic. But I probably should have put traffic in quotes because there was little of it.

I walked up and down and side to side the streets in Vieux-Nice and very much enjoyed it.

At one point, I came across a fish market in a small square that added colour and, well, fish to the neighbourhood.

My estimate of Nice’s charm grew significantly by the time I left Vieux-Nice.

Along the way, I also stopped in to take a look at some of the churches there that were recommended by one of my guidebooks, my walking tour app, or both.

Spoiler: I read that the neo-Gothic style of the Basilique Notre-Dame is the exception for Nice and that, in Vieux-Nice, the churches are mostly of an Italian Baroque style. Below, I write about the ones I saw as if I saw one right after the other, but while I saw them in the order listed below, they were scattered about in my rambling through Vieux-Nice and spread out over the morning.

Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate

The first Vieux-Nice church I stopped in was Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate. It’s very much a Baroque church, or at least what little I’ve come to know of Baroque churches over the course of my travels. It has a vaulted ceiling and lots of fancy columns, paintings, carvings, and ornamental gewgaws.

I quite like Baroque churches. I know some people might mock me for that as being shallow and demonstrating that I’m charmed by shiny objects. But I do. I also like Gothic and Renaissance churches, particularly big, old (or new, but old-looking) Gothic churches for their austere, imposing, grand feel. But, yeah, I like Baroque churches. Mock me if you must.

Photos from inside Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate:

Église St-Jacques

Next up was Église St-Jacques. If Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate is Baroque, Église St-Jacques raises the Baroqueness by some multiple. There was an explosion of decorations, with lots of sculptures, including some cherubs over arches, paintings, including on the ceiling, decorated columns, gold-coloured accents, and just bold ornateness.

Off to the left (facing the altar) and near the front, there’s a raised pulpit attached to the wall. The pulpit is quite plain. But sticking horizontally out from it is a sculpture of a sleeved arm. The hand at the end of the arm is flesh-coloured (a White person’s flesh). The hand proudly holds a crucifix raised vertically. Looking at it, it seemed to me that the pulpit was saying to the not then present congregation, “Hey, everyone! Look! Look what I’ve got.”

Photos from inside Église St-Jacques:

Église Saint-Martin et Saint-Augustin

The next church I visited in Vieux-Nice was Église Saint-Martin et Saint-Augustin. I don’t know what style it is. My guidebooks didn’t mention it at all. It was my walking tour app that directed me there, but it didn’t mention the style. I want to guess it’s Baroque too, but I’m not sure. Maybe someone who knows these sorts of things can look at the pictures and let me know. (You know who you are.)

Église Saint-Martin et Saint-Augustin has a fairly plain facade and, inside, lacks the exuberant elaborateness of the two preceding Baroque churches, which is what makes me uncertain that it too is Baroque. Nevertheless, I found it quite attractive in a somewhat more subdued way. It has a painted, barrel ceiling. It has far fewer decorations than Église St-Jacques, but the ones it has are as flashy.

I liked it.

More photos of Église Saint-Martin et Saint-Augustin:

Chapelle de la Miséricorde

The final church I (tried) to visit in Vieux-Nice was Chapelle de la Miséricorde. It’s at one end of Vieux-Nice. And, when I tried to visit it, it was very much closed.

There’s a small sign with the church’s name engraved above the door, but that was the only sign I saw affixed to the church or anywhere near it. There was nothing providing opening hours, and it gave off the air that it might never open to the public.

I felt that was rude, particularly considering the appearance of the exterior of the church. It was somewhat plain, but painted in an extremely cheerful yellow. Anything that looked that cheerful should be welcoming, but it wasn’t.

Chapelle de la Miséricorde fronts on a long public square. Beside the church, attached to the long public square, is another part of the public square, this one more of a square public square than a rectangular public square.

The only reason that I mentioned it is that, this morning, there was a market set up there. It was very colourful, with vendors selling fruits, vegetables, seafood, sausages, herbs, spices, baked goods, sandwiches, sweets, several varieties of olives, cut flowers, house plants, crafts, and soaps.

Soaps seem to be big in this part of France. I noticed a lot of soap stores in Marseille, too. In the soap stores or, in this case, a market table, the soaps often come in a variety of colours, and are stacked unwrapped for sale.

After I walked up and down the market, it was time for lunch. I ate it in a restaurant beside the square, where I had a glass of wine and a Salade Niçoise. I’m in Nice, dammit. I wasn’t going to leave here without having a Salade Niçoise. It was quite large, quite delicious, and a pleasant way to cap off the morning.