After years of IVF, tense weeks of tip-toeing about hoping not to upset the delicate (well, in our minds anyway) magic of implantation, and a morning sickness-filled first trimester, my wonderful wife deserved some rest, relaxation, good food, sunshine, and beauty: she deserved a vacation!

We wanted all that vacation goodness but also a place that was relatively comfortable for a second-trimester pregnant woman. Adventure vacations were out (so much for zip-lining the jungle), but Lauren dislikes an idling “bake on the beach” resort stay. Where could we combine beauty with urbanity with beachside relaxation and maybe score a great photo for use on our pregnancy announcement cards?

The Côte d’Azur!

So we made reservations to stay in Nice with plans on making day trips to many of the adorable cliff-top villages nearby. We spent eight days there.

I’m amazed that la France has been such a part of my life: I’ve been to Paris four times and we were wed in New Orleans. This time, instead of staying in the Île-de-France, we went to a different type of France. We were excited to see how culture, customs, and food change once one ventured closer to the legacy lands of the Roman Empire, the narrow Mediterranean Sea, and Northern Africa.

I’ve always admired, and, in truth occasionally snickered at, the French demand that French things stay French in an obviously French way. It was like they were trying to hold back the tide of globalism through hauteur and protectionism.

These days, I’m more sympathetic. By virtue of indoctrinating this behavior ("puh!"), some truly special and uniquely French things still exist. For a moment, let me extol French graphic novels.