I’m Tired of Trying to Make Sense of Another Tragedy After Nice (Published in Kveller)

Last July, we traveled through Europe with our teens, eagerly anticipating our tour of Nice, France. My husband and I were passionate about this stop on our trip as we had spent a wonderful vacation there 25 years prior and felt our kids were mature enough to appreciate the city’s mix of old world charm and modern sophistication.

Despite the scorching heat, my kids soaked in the local culture, cuisine, and architecture. Walking through the Marche Aux Fleurs, Nice’s famous flower market, we were mesmerized by the collections of Gerbera daisies and roses, racks of garlic, and endless varieties of heirloom tomatoes, peaches, cherries, and strawberries. We stopped at the salt stall, hypnotized by the pink, yellow, cream, peach, and green salts, which seemed to match the pastels of the old buildings.

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