Grasse: where the winer farms cry and the wifi is a myth

woke up in a hostel in grasse today and honestly didn’t even know it was raining until the snow started falling on the streets. i mean it’s not snow it’s just tiny ice flakes from the sky and they’re cold enough to make my toes numb but hey at least the vines outside look like they’re having a frosty party. i just checked and it’s like 0.83 degrees celsius and the floor is wet as hell. hope you like that kind of thing.

the hostel manager said something about ‘underground tunnels’ but i’ve never seen a map of grasse that included stairs leading to a castillo del olivo. maybe it’s a legend? i asked a local if they’d ever seen a ghost here and they just laughed and said ‘no but i did once find a bottle of 1923 sherry in a dumpster near the cafe on the corner of chase and beret. it was warm. weird.’ i wasn’t sure if they were joking or if that was their way of saying ‘don’t trust the weather here’. either way i’m not sure i trust anything anymore.

i walked to the old market square and it was chaotic as hell. stalls shoved together like old friends at a wedding and a vendor nearly died trying to sell me a lemonade that tasted like regret. someone told me the wine cellars here are so old they’d break if they sneezed but the sign at ‘chateau de fond’ said ‘open 24/7 unless the owner’s cat has a seizure’. don’t cite this as fact. i’m not a historian. i’m a digital nomad with a broken laptop and a 10% chance of spontaneously combusting.

i did find a corner cafe called ‘le crépès’ where the wallpaper was peeling and the barista spoke french but insisted on giving me a receipt in spanish. i also overheard two tourists arguing about whether the french king had a better sense of humor than the english one. it was surreal. i told them to google it. maybe next time i’ll ask for directions to a library instead of a ‘how to avoid existential dread’ pamphlet.

if you’re bored, marseille is a short drive away but honestly just wander the old town. i saw a man painting a giant mustache on a statue of providence and another guy trying to sell ‘authentic illy coffee’ for 10 euros. i passed. i’ve had illy in france and it’s decent but nothing warrants a existential crisis. unless you’re into that.

i heard that the harbor is a no-go after dark because of ‘تون папарацчи’s. i don’t know if they’re tabloid photographers or just people bad at disposing of trash. either way i stayed safe. mostly. i also heard that the bakers here close early. like 3 pm. so if you’re planning to eat something substantial, ask a local. or just eat the moldy bread in your hostel room. it was surprisingly good once.

i tried to find a view of the mediterranean but the hills were all foggy and the locals kept telling me ‘you have to be born here to see it properly’. i respect that but i also respect wanting to see something cool before i die. i ended up at a rooftop bar called ‘le fille du phosphor’ where the bartender asked me if i believed in ghosts. i didn’t answer. we just clinked glasses and the street musicians started playing something french that sounded like a cat learning to play the saxophone.

someone told me that grasse is famous for ‘the secret garden of lost keys’ but i’ve never seen it. i tried asking a taxi driver but he said ‘maybe it’s a metaphor for dating here’. fair enough. i’ll keep that in mind next time my wallet and heart start failing at the same time.

if you need gear for this kind of trip, i recommend checking out tripadvisor for cheap backpacks or yelp for the best street food (it’s usually the places that smell like regret but taste like hope). also don’t forget to pack a jacket. even if it’s august.

i’m flying out tomorrow and honestly i’m not sure if i’ll remember any of this. maybe i’ll just write a postcard to myself and staple it to the fridge of a future version of me. who knows. maybe that’s the point. maybe grasse is just a place to forget your wifi password and pretend you’re made of stone.

p.s. the weather here is 100% accurate. i checked with a thermometer and a blindfold. you’re welcome.