Four months later, a postcard I sent to my library from Nice is still hanging up by the pens at the back room computer. Someone put it up. No one has taken it down. Here is a picture of it:
I'm not sure when the picture on the card was taken. Maybe the twenties (the other twenties!)? I find it dreamlike. I bought the postcard at a used bookstore near the flower market. I loved the photo, but I wasn't sure where it was or if it still existed, or even if it was real.
Later in this trip my dear wife and I walked out past the Nice port, and then kept going, trying to find a restaurant that suited us. We saw something a lot like this picture in the distance. The boat on the rock was gone and replaced with more of a deck. It was now a very expensive restaurant, and still dreamlike, but more a daydream than sleeping dream. Either way, we had found the scene of the postcard!
We looked seriously at the menu but couldn't make it work for us with what we can eat. So we walked back towards the port and ate at a less dramatic restaurant still looking out over the water. I may have mentioned the truffled eggs I had there. Those were dreamlike too.
I love how travel makes strange and wonderful places real. But still sometimes, in the night, working yet one more of thousands of library shifts, I look down at this postcard and think:
We were there. There.
And I can't believe it.
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