Nice, Part II: Cimiez

The next part of our wanderings through Nice took us to Cimiez, a "suburb" of Nice that is just to the north of central Nice. Unlike Chicago, suburb is a relative term. John and I just took a northernly uphill walk and had no problem getting there on foot. While Le Chateau marks the place of an ancient Greek settlement (by the way, the name of the city of Nice is derived from the winged goddess "Nike"), Cimiez is located on what used to be an old Roman settlement, Cemenelum.

Cimiez, in addition to being a pretty swanky suburb, by standards American or French, is home to some neat things to see. Our first stop was Eglise Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption, the centerpiece church of a 16th century Franciscan monestary. ("Eglise" was one of the new words I added to my French vocabulary, it means "church"). John and I didn't visit the museum associated with the monestary, but we did take time to take a look at the church and peek inside... after all, it was Sunday, and we thought we might be able to earn some "extra credit points" with John's (very Polish, very Catholic) mom if we at least went in and took a look.

John snapped this picture before we realized that cameras were not supposed to be used inside the church. It gives an idea of how beautiful and how much art surrounds the average parishoner in one of these old churches (and this church was hardly unusual). It was a lot darker inside than the picture suggests, and made us realize why people might have gone to mass in the morning instead of at night: it was a lot easier to see what you were doing without a lot of candles. One thing that also struck me was the lack of a big crucifix at the front of the church (there was a very significant one towards the back). Crucifixes feature quite prominently at the front of American Catholic Churches, and it made me wonder when the shift occurred, since we noticed this absence in several French churches. The churches we visited also seemed to have a lot of side chapels dedicated to particular saints or events in Christian mythology. Even though I don't practice much, from a historical perspective, I found these churches fascinating (I almost majored in history during college, but worried about my job prospects...).

The gardens next to the church were as lovely and as tranquil as the church itself. John took this picture of me at the entry to the garden (I should point out that John took most of these lovely pictures... I only took the few where you see him by himself). In addition to sporting my handy daypack, I am also modeling my peasant top, which was perfect for the sojourn up the hill in warmish weather. Rarely have I been so pleased with one of my knitting accomplishments. Even though it is an incredibly simple garment, it is one of the most unique in my current wardrobe, and it makes me happy when I wear it (by the way... KnitPicks has Porto Cervo in Jeans on Clearance, if you're looking to make this top.)

We would have spent more time in this beautiful little fountain sanctuary if there had been a little more shade. It would have been a lovely place to settle in with a book and just soak in the peacefulness.

The next stop on our tour of Cimiez was the Musee Matisse, which is housed in a 17th century villa that we didn't seem to get a picture of. (One very useful fact when travelling in France is that the museums are free on the first Sunday of every month -- we didn't learn this until we got there, but we were happy to take advantage of it!). One of my favorite things about the Art Institute of Chicago (if you've never been, it's a must when you come to Chicago) is the large collection of French artists that are featured there, including Matisse. The Musee Matisse is quite small by comparison to the AIC, but had great exhibits. I particularly liked the one featuring his designs for the Chapelle du Rosaire, which included a mock up of the chapel itself, and sketches of the artwork.

After a brief stop for an ice cream and water break, John and I started off to look more closely at the Roman ruins of Cemenelum. (Here's a link to a little Roman history). I liked this picture a great deal because of the juxtaposition of the ruins of this ancient Roman arena with upscale French suburbia (which was also once the trendy get-a-way for weathy English travellers as well). There's not too much left of this amphitheatre that once featured gladiatorial combat, but you can almost imagine what it must have been like.

The arena sits outside of the rest of the ruins that are protected by the Musee d'Archeologie. This museum, in spite of its ancient subject material, is a relatively airy and modern building (and unlike the Musee Matisse, seemed to have turned on its air conditioning).

Probably one of the most difficult things for John and I when we went to these museums was our rusty French. I could read most things and get the general idea of what was going on, but I really wished that I had a better vocabulary and could remember more general grammar. Even so, we learned a lot here about the Roman empire and the structure of Roman settlements. John was fascinated about the process of heating the baths.

The picture above is some of the remaining substructure to the baths. One thing that we liked very much is that we could wander around in and actually touch the remains of this old settlement. Makes you appreciate the durability of Roman masonry work, but also made me wonder what would still be standing in Chicago 1600 years from now. Will people be fascinated by old hotels, shopping malls, and the remains of the Navy Pier ferris wheel?

The largest structure left standing is the main bathhouse. It's at least two stories tall and its kind of neat to think that they took the time to put in decorative brickwork to make the place more enjoyable to hang out in. When you get up close to the brick and mortar work you can almost imagine people building this place brick by brick and the work it must have required.

Now the structures only inhabitants are pigeons ("oh la la, les pigeons!", to quote an older French lady who was examining the place while we were there). No matter where you go, the sky rats seem to follow.

This last picture was taken inside the bath house (John found a creative place to put the camera so we could take a timer shot). I'm not sure what we're looking at (maybe keeping an eye out for divebombing pigeons), but I thought it was good for giving you a closer look at the brickwork.

Lest you think that I've done no knitting at all since coming back from France, I'll also throw in a quick update on my current projects. After feeling terribly guilty about the unfinished state of Pebbles, I've gone back to working on the sleeve. I think I'm about 2/3rd done with the left sleeve now... I like the way moss stitch looks, but I'm not sure I'll be diving into another major project that is all moss stitch and worked in a very inelastic fiber. I'll probably put up a pic after I get the sleeve finished.

I also succumbed to extreme temptation this morning and placed an order at Elann for 9 balls of Filatura di Crossa Tai in "Tapestry" so that I can do yet another top out of the Filatura Summer 2003 book. I really tried to resist, but at almost half off, I figured it was my only chance. I saw one of the tops knit up when I was at Ruhama's and just fell in love. Nothing like a good floor sample to sell yarn!