I took a super spontaneous 24-hour solo detour to Nice because I just needed the ocean—like, maybe you just need to go back to the ocean, period. This wasn’t even on my content calendar (it was supposed to be 24 hours in Paris), but after all the flight chaos and rebooking, Nice ended up being the cheapest, easiest airport to fly into before hopping to Toulouse. I checked into my Airbnb (on the “fourth” floor… which is really the fifth, because France doesn’t count the ground floor and I do), showered, got myself together, and talked through my goals: beach at sunrise, a dip in the sea, and getting content in the dress I’ve been saving. The next morning I was up at 6 a.m. and headed down a million stairs to the beach, only to realize the mountain literally blocks the sunrise—so if it’s cloudy or drizzling, don’t stress yourself coming extra early. I waited it out, watched the beach slowly fill, and then hiked uphill to a lookout point so I could finally take photos without feeling awkward around people. My shins were hurting, but the view was so worth it—Nice is actually so, so pretty from up there.