Vieux Nice: The Layered History of the Old Town by the Sea

Vieux Nice, the historic heart of Nice, is less a single neighborhood than a living archive. Its narrow streets, faded palazzi, baroque churches, and laundry-strung alleyways tell a story shaped by geography, trade, conquest, and cultural crosscurrents. Unlike many Old Towns that feel preserved behind glass, Vieux Nice remains stubbornly alive—noisy, aromatic, and deeply rooted in its past.

Greek Foundations and Roman Order

The story begins in the 4th century BCE, when Greek settlers from Massalia (modern Marseille) established Nikaia, named after Nike, the goddess of victory. The settlement sat strategically near the sea, serving as a trading post between the Mediterranean and inland routes.

Later, the Romans formalized the region’s importance by building Cemenelum (in today’s Cimiez), leaving Nice as a coastal satellite to a larger administrative center. While few visible Roman remnants survive in Vieux Nice itself, the city’s role as a port and crossroads was firmly established.

Medieval Walls and a City Under Siege

By the Middle Ages, Nice had shifted closer to the coastline, clustering beneath what is now Castle Hill (Colline du Château). Vieux Nice developed within defensive walls, its streets deliberately narrow and winding to confuse invaders and funnel movement.

From the 12th to the 18th centuries, Nice found itself repeatedly caught between competing powers—Provence, Savoy, France, and various Italian states. Control changed hands often, and the Old Town reflects this instability: fortifications, religious institutions, and tightly packed housing designed for both faith and survival.

The Castle, once a key military stronghold overlooking the Old Town, was destroyed in 1706 by order of Louis XIV, permanently altering the city’s skyline but opening the way for Nice’s future expansion.

Italian Roots, French Rule

For centuries, Nice was culturally and politically tied to Italy. Under the House of Savoy, the city shared language, architecture, cuisine, and customs with neighboring Liguria and Piedmont. This Italian heritage is still visible in Vieux Nice’s pastel facades, shuttered windows, baroque churches, and family-run food traditions.

Everything changed in 1860, when Nice was officially annexed by France following a controversial plebiscite. While French administration reshaped governance and education, daily life in Vieux Nice retained a distinctly Italian rhythm well into the 20th century. The Niçois dialect, a blend of Provençal and Italian, continued to be spoken in homes and markets.

Churches, Markets, and Everyday Life

Religion played a central role in shaping Vieux Nice. Landmarks such as Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate, Église du Gesù, and Chapelle de la Miséricorde reflect the wealth and influence of religious confraternities during the baroque period. These churches were not just places of worship but anchors of social life.

Just as important was Cours Saleya, the Old Town’s marketplace. Long before it became a postcard-perfect attraction, it functioned as the city’s pantry—supplying vegetables, fish, flowers, and olive oil. Even today, it remains one of the strongest links between historic Nice and modern daily life.

Decline, Survival, and Revival

By the early 20th century, Vieux Nice had fallen out of favor with elites who preferred the wide boulevards and Belle Époque architecture of newer neighborhoods. The Old Town became densely populated, poorer, and increasingly neglected.

Yet this marginalization helped preserve it. Large-scale redevelopment largely bypassed Vieux Nice, allowing its medieval layout and historic buildings to survive intact. In the late 20th century, restoration efforts, combined with renewed interest in heritage and tourism, sparked a gradual revival.

Vieux Nice Today

Today, Vieux Nice is a balancing act. It is home to long-established families, expat communities, artists, students, and an ever-growing number of visitors. Its streets are filled with the sounds church bells, conversations in multiple languages, and the constant hum of cafés and kitchens.

Despite pressure from tourism and short-term rentals, the Old Town remains deeply local at its core. Laundry still hangs from balconies. Neighbors still chat in stairwells. Markets still close when they feel like it.

Vieux Nice endures not because it has been frozen in time, but because it has adapted—layer by layer—without erasing what came before. It is a place where history isn’t curated; it’s lived.