never pass a pisser, never trust a fart, never waste a stiffy.
Bike Tour through the Alps to Nice. Ferry to Corsica. 10 days there with the Wives and back again.
First night was a celebratory affair. Had a Maximator between us and a few Despo’s to follow. Then came the football.
Such a shame Portugal won – sorry Joaquim and Raffa – but it would have been nice (nice not Nice) when in France to have seen them win.
The ferry (8 hours overnight) was full of people scattered all over the place sleeping rough. We felt a little guilty having a four berth cabin to ourselves. Especially when there were a couple of very very pretty young girlies sleeping rough outside our door.
No matter how hard we begged and pleaded with them to share our occupancy, they politely declined. Saying “Oh no, we couldn’t possibly. It would be such a presumption. We certainly wouldn’t like to incur any inconvenience”. In French. Of course. Well, I think thats what they said.
Anyway, we ended up in Corsica at 8am. Rattled through the coast road and windy (windy not windy) roads to end up at the hotel (inn, hostel, occupancy, room. Not tent). We met the Wives who were busy chatting ten to the dozen by the pool. All very happy.
I like it in Nice. I know its full of posers and people trying to look cool. They listen to the loud speaker on their phone while on a call just so everyone else can hear how cool their lives are. They dress for a simple shopping trip like they are going to a ball. Everyone wears sun glasses of the price you could feed multiple African tribes for ten years. But, I still like it. Don’t ask me why but maybe it’s because I like people watching and everywhere I look it tells me to get back on my bike and ride on.
I’m sure you could run a business taking bets on how many young people will get hit by bicycles, roller skaters, scooters, cars as they stare at Facebook while walking along. I saved a girl from certain death as she walked out into the road doing just the same. But the look she gave me was not of gratitude but instead for how much her Pap-Pa was going to sue me for ‘touching’ her arm.
Some dodgy photo on the Route De Grand Alps on the way into to Nice. I know this is a pic of a church and a fountain but behind me it was rockin’. Yes, nightclub recovery party, acid, drugs and rock and roll. Oh, yes – we know where to go. Cool. Wicked. Man.
My venture into the adventurous. Put my feet in a cold mountain stream anyway. Bloody cold I can tell you. In all honesty, I wanted to this when I was a kid. Dad would never stop the car for me to do it. So this is for Dad!
Vars route. Not done this in recent times.
Found a gem of a place. About 1500m up and isolated. Hiker paradise. There was a convention of some sort I guess. They were everywhere, of all nationalities. I don’t suppose the Chinese next to us took to the ‘Tour Dawn Chorus’ in the morning! (farts, farts and more farts).
Interlaken, Switzerland. My family home! At least we feel at home there.
The place where we always ended up on trips to the ‘Continent’. Before the EU of course.
Met up with Heidi as usual – she makes us sooo welcome. Always asks about Paul (my Brother) and looks after us so well.
Jungfrau in full glory…
Can remember the name of it. Edit needed! Found it – Brienzersee
But is was VERY emerald with all the minerals from the mountain water.
Whatever!
