We walked around Nice after trying to return the car. I'm afraid that the whole car thing may end up biting me in the hind quarters. The Gare (train) station office was supposed to be open, but was not. I finally asked a clerk from another rental agency and she said to park the car somewhere and drop the key in the box, which we did (though I did forget to fill the gas tank). Anyway, I won't go into the whole story here, suffice it to say they will be hearing from me.
We checked into our hotel; old but comfortable. The view is wonderful from our little terrace; we can see the tiny harbor, marina, and part of the town.
We were sitting on a fountain ledge in a tiny square when we spied the cutest little coal black pug wandering around the table legs of the open air restaurants. He explored, sniffed, marked (or so he thought), and generally meandered around. He was adorable. About an hour later when we had sat down to eat, several blocks away, I felt something weird around my feet, voila! There he was again. We were a little concerned that he might be lost because he looked very well taken care of and was wearing a collar. The waiter shooed him away and he moved on to the next restaurant. We didn't see him the next day, so we assume all is well (we hope).
It's Gone to the Dogs