From Cologne to the Côte d’Azur- when friends meet
Listening to Ronan Keating at five past eleven on a chilly, slightly overcast September night, the song “When You Say Nothing at All” reminded me of my time in Nice just a few days earlier. I was listening to the same song then, and my buddy asked, “Are you listening to Ronan Keating?”
I replied, “Yes!”
He shot back, “Are you a 60-year-old mammy?”
That made me chuckle, because I never thought 60-year-old moms would be listening to Keating.
This was my second time in Nice. I had been there last year as well, though it was only a short stay of four days. This time, however, was different — not only because it lasted nine days, but also because we skipped the usual tourist activities that first-time visitors typically do.
I flew from Cologne to Nice and was assigned seat 27B on a Eurowings flight. When I reached my row, a girl was already sitting in my seat, with another guy at the window. She explained that her window seat had been taken by the guy, so she sat in the middle instead. I told her it was fine and agreed to take the aisle seat, letting her stay in the middle.
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She spoke English with a slight German accent, more fluent than most Germans I know. She told me she was studying English and French at university to become a primary school teacher, had already spent a year in France, and was on her way to meet her best friend in Antibes, a small coastal town just 27 km south of Nice.
The hour-and-a-half flight passed in the blink of an eye. Casual conversations about life, languages, and lifestyle along with a bit of turbulence kept us engaged. She mentioned that she had once randomly recorded a video at the last Taylor Swift concert they attended together, and now she and her best friend wanted to create a vlog of their upcoming time in Antibes and Nice, each capturing their own moments before meeting up at the Nice airport.
She and her best friend had known each other since they were twelve, having first met while their families were on vacation in Paris. How fitting, I thought, that her best friend’s name was Emily and that they met in Paris just like the title of the popular Netflix show Emily in Paris.
As the plane touched down in Nice, I slowly clapped my hands. She laughed and replied, “Typisch Alleman.” We both couldn’t help but laugh.
When we exited the plane and headed toward the arrivals hall, I saw Emily waiting for her friend with a big smile. The two of them hugged tightly a heartwarming sight to behold. I wished them both a wonderful time in Antibes and then slowly made my way out of the airport to catch the tram to the apartment, where I was about to catch up with my own friend, someone I have known for nine years, ever since he first came to Nürnberg as an exchange student from Ireland.
