The Car

Before I talk in general about my trip to the south of France I think the car and my use of it deserves a separate entry all on its own.
I decided to hire a car for the trip, firstly, because it seemed like the prices of the train rides would be just as, if not more, expensive as hiring a car (this was later proven when we chatted to fellow travellers and poked around on the ticket machines) and secondly, because a car seemed like a more flexible option for visiting little towns. As I had driven several times in the US in various sized cars, I figured that driving on the wrong side of the road would pose no real issues (this ended up being the least of my problems).
What I had not factored in was the stress levels involved with driving on unfamiliar roads with unfamiliar signs in a different language and only having stupid Google maps (printed in black and white!) to guide me.
My second trip-up occurred at Nice airport. Reservation? Hmmm, chat rapidly on the phone in French, talk to the person next-door then ask, 'Would a Cruiser convertible be ok?' 'Sure', I say, once she points out what the Cruiser is. Mumble, mumble, search, search. 'How about a VW Passat station wagon?' 'O-kkk...', I say. 'We won't charge you extra for it.' I should hope not as it wasn't my fault they didn't have my car ready for me. So, instead of a nice little Toyota Yaris to zip around the streets in, I got a lumbering Passat station wagon. No offence to Lye Seng but a Passat station wagon is only a good car if you live in Australia or the US with their wide, straight lanes.
First challenge, to get to Monaco from Nice airport. This leisurely 1/2 hour drive ended up taking over an hour. After several circuits of the airport and a drive down both ways of the esplanade in peak hour, we abandoned the Google map directions and followed the signs to Monaco on the road. Once arriving in Monaco (no border to speak of), there were conveniently placed signs to Beausoleil (the suburb) and the Forum Hotel noticeable just after you had driven past them. Several U-turns later, we arrived at the hotel.
Where to park? 'There is a public car park at the train station just down the road - just follow the signs.' While mum checked us in, I went for a drive down the curvy streets. I went up a one lane road, turned 2 corners to find a car parked at the end. Being the world's greatest reverser, I managed to negotiate the first 90 degree turn in reverse before getting stuck in the second 90 degree turn. There, I did an Austin Powers, back, forth, back, forth on the spot for a while before a lovely gentleman came to my aid and offered to drive my car out of trouble. His problem? He had never driven an automatic car (and a fancy one at that which had a button on the dash instead of a handbrake!). 'How do you go forwards and backwards?' Anyway, he got it out for me and also drove it to the car park, which was really close (30m away) but ridiculously complicated to get to (go right 20m, do a u-turn, go 50m, turn left and left again...)
Having taken 1/2 hour to park the car, I walked back to the hotel, which took all of 5 minutes.
My next traumatic experience occurred 2 days later when we attempted to get to Avignon via Nice and Cannes. We bumbled our way to the tourist information centres in Cannes and Avignon to get directions and maps. Even after getting directions in Avignon, I ended up in a tunnel that took me out to the road that we came in on instead of continuing around the city wall.
We got lost on every new venture, be it circling the city of Nimes only the take the wrong lane at the last moment or driving around and around the local roads in the Luberon or u-turning on the streets of Nice to get back to the airport but, in the immortal words of Rob Evans, Australian Cat dealer, when we arrived at Chicago's O'Hare airport after a hair-raising drive from the Cat Aurora plant, 'A few hysterics but we got there in the end.'
A word on the French and their tolerance of crazy drivers who u-turn at any moment, can't make the turn in one go and have to back up and try again - they are an amazing nation of people. Not once did I hear a horn toot or anyone yell at me. Truly, they are a misrepresented country.
A final word on Google maps. Almost completely useless. Even when I knew where I was going, I still couldn't follow the directions. Fix this, Gor!