What a difference a day makes. For some strange reason the Deaf Dutch next door were as good as gold - no TV at all until this evening, and even then the volume
was turned down to an acceptable level. I can only assume they overheard comments I had made last night, so they didn't get a knock on their door or a copy of the 'Watchtower'.
Today turned out to be a rest day,
so no photographs I'm afraid, besides the blog host is screaming at me not to overload this page any more. And so I shall rename this 'chapter 'Nice Area', I can't put 'Villenueve- Loubet' because I have a limited number of digits available
to me for a title.
After scrubbing up we made our way down the road to the supermarket for a few bits. My word it was chaos in there. The supermarkets are only open in the mornings on a Sunday in France,
and so every man and his dog was in there spending our money. We now have enough bottles of drinking water for the next part of our trip, and The Chef is confident that we have enough meals of one sort or another to see us through.
We just relaxed today because we know that the next stage is going to be very demanding, but at the same time challenging and rewarding .
By the end of today we have managed to charge up all electrical
items and stow away almost all of our kit ready for a reasonably quick getaway tomorrow.
This evening I got chatting to a couple of cyclists who are roughing it in their tiny tent opposite us. I offered them the
use of our two small flip-out folding chairs to sit on as they were sat against the wall of the swimming pool preparing and eating their meal. They said they were fine, but I told them that sitting like that I felt the need to give them money, and we had a
Later I got in to conversation with them. They were probably seniors, and clearly super fit. The chap told me he was from Belgium, and his partner was from Austria. They had cycled all the
way from Belgium, and tomorrow they are making for Sardinia, though they are aware they can't ride there and will need to catch a ferry. Once they have reached the end of their journey they will catch a train home.
The three of us had a laugh despite the occasion linguistic misunderstanding, he was telling me that in Belgium, farmers still regularly discover human bones when ploughing their fields, and that there is certainly someone, or maybe more than
one person who, blindfolded can tell which nationality the bones belong to . He was telling me that British bones are lighter, and German bones are heavier, denser. So there you have it - the Germans are thick. And this just goes to demonstrate that we are
European despite what the EU's resident drunk says. We always have been, and we always will be. We just don't want to be dragged along with their Federalism ,and which, one day in the future they will decide they don't want to either. They'll want to keep
their national identities remaining French, or Belgium, or Polish, or whatever, and not forced to simply be 'EU citizens under one flag with one set of laws, defence, tax, etc. It's coming, it will take a few more years yet, but it's coming, and suddenly they'll
wake up, bless them, and realised what's happened.
So we're almost ready to hit the road tomorrow heading for Pisa in Italy, and hopefully I'll have a video to share with you the following day
if all goes to plan. The one thing that could cause us problems is the route around Genoa due to the collapse of that huge bridge on the toll road there about a year or more ago. No doubt due to Italian engineering and Mafia money.