'The Shrimpsons in Nice'

We arrived in Nice at the beautiful French Riviera on April 14. But at that time, it was more fitting to call it the Drenched Riviera!

RainCote d’ Azur?

Oh-la-lan! Basang-basa ang daan.

No, Nice did not become a VeNice naman — it was just a gentle rain.

(Another rain story insert)

During a trip to Paris, we were passing through Champs Elysees one day when it suddenly drizzled. Eileen and the kids immediately took shelter in some of the shops with covered entrances while I continued walking in the open. Eileen yelled, “Daddy, baka magkasakit ka!”

And I shot back, “Dehins, sosyal na ulan ito! Parang Evian... made in France!”

(And now, back to our story...)

But we did not let la pluie to dampen our esprit. We hurriedly checked in our hotel by the Quai des Etats-Unis, left our bags (but not our lag), and with the remaining light of day, we leisurely paced the Promenade des Anglais — the celebrated boardwalk along the Baie des Anges (Bay of Angels) of the blue Mediterranean.

And as dusk slowly crept, we started to look for a place where we would have our first real French dinner. And voila! Ayun at nakita! Siempre nasa Nice... and what rhymes with Nice? Penis? Of course not, although okay mag-soup number 5 dahil malamig at maginaw.

And by the oui, ang nakakita ay yours truly. So, sasabihin na me — at siempre, dahil nasa Nice and what rhymes with Nice? Eh di... JAPANESE!

Yeheyyy! The Shrimpsons are back and alive again!

The place is called Le Samourai — specialite: Teppan-Yaki. They do it like Benihana does — may showmanship ang mga nagluluto; may talent portion baga. Well, duon sa mga kasama ko pwede dahil teppan-yaki sila. Sa akin, hindi pwede ang pasikat at palabas nila. Sige, mag-exhibition nga s’ya sa tempura ko!

(Another food story insert)

I seldom make the initiative to invite my family to eat out. It has always been the other way around. Here’s one of those rare moments, and this story will also prove how much I greatly love Japanese food and food in general.

JOEY: Mommy ko, kain tayo ng Kobe Beef.

EILEEN: Okay, gusto mo pumunta duon sa Japanese town sa may malapit kay Pareng Danee (Samonte) sa Makati?

JOEY: Ayaw... pupunta tayo mismo sa Kobe! Sa Japan!

Ngek! See? It was Kobe or not Kobe — that was the answer. But it took us another week before we relished (until we choked and surrendered) Kobe Beef in its actual setting.

(And now, back to our story...)

The next day, we went to a medieval village called Eze, then we proceeded to Monaco and Monte Carlo. It was not raining in these parts of southern France. That day, I did not have any tempura shrimps. Ikkks! Ewww! Medyo kadiri na. I thought it was time to eat normally. So, for a change, I had two plates of escargot — consumed all 24 pieces of snails!

On the third day, we had a tour around Nice. It rained again. That day, I only had seafood paella from Le Grand Bleu at the Cours Saleya. Of course, the paella marinara had a lot of shrimps!

The following day, we had a full day visiting the countryside — Cannes, Antibes, Tourettes-sur-Loup, Gourdon and Grasse. But there’s one place that really impressed us — the cute and charming Saint Paul de Vence — where great painters and artists have stayed. The place by itself is definitely a work of art. We all fell in love with Saint Paul de Vence. I was captivated. Nabusog ako sa ganda ng lugar. We had lunch there at La Cocarde. This time, I only had cod fish. Mas ginanahan ako sa lugar kaysa sa pagkain.

When we returned to Nice, guess where we had our dinner at the famous Cours Saleya? In a place called... (fanfare)... MY SUSHI! Ngek!

The next morning of our last full day in Nice, we were suddenly awakened by a little commotion coming from the beach area. Even before I got up from bed, I noticed that it was quite bright outside. When I finally opened the drapes, yahhhh! I was singing in my heart, “The sun is out, the sky is blue, there’s not a cloud to spoil the view...” Imagine, for the very first time in our almost a week of stay in Nice, ngayon lang sumikat ang araw! Sun of the beach!

Suddenly, the beach was full of people and bathers. Many were very excited, and it looked like some were offering themselves as sacrifice to the sun god — tihayaan nang tihayaan; biladan nang biladan — walang pakialam! Hilataan at tiwangwangan — spreading like eagles on the sand — front and back.

We immediately called up Jocas to inform her of the “miracle” and told her that we would just meet her down the beach for her sudden last minute red bikini pictorial.

Eileen and I went ahead. When Jocas arrived with Jako, she was smiling from ear to ear, already wearing the red bikini underneath a tube dress. She didn’t waste much time and she immediately removed the sarong-like cover but ngek!, she was still wearing denim shorts! At this point, she happened to look around and there and then, she realized that she was in the middle of naked bodies including some ladies with exposed breasts! Ngek! Nabigla si Maria Clara. She forgot this is European sunbathing.

Chances are, if you’d be asked for refreshments by some roving waitress of a nearby service kiosk, you’d be ordering for either “pinenipple juice” or “green tits!”

But largely (no pun intended), you’d easily guess the age of most of the bare-breasted bathing broads by the way they position themselves — pag nakadapa, bata... pag nakatihaya, matanda!

That day, I had one of my favorites for lunch at Casa Nissa at Place Messina — the Portuguese-style Sopa de Pedra (Stone soup). Yes!

We left the French Riviera in the morning of April 19 to fly back to New York while they were having a Chinese-sounding event. We hurriedly left early because they were coming — their marathon from Cannes to Nice (Cantonese)!

Would you believe it was raining again? S’yanga pala, our route back home was: New York — Detroit — Narita — Manila. When we touched down Detroit, we had a wait of about three hours and it was already lunch time. So we prepared ourselves for the long flight back home. We ate in a place called Sora — and ordered — (what else?) — tempura!