Died and gone to heaven! Incredibly clear skies and a crystal azure blue ocean…we are on the Cote d’Azure! Sunning our legs while admiring the Corsica-Sardinia Ferry cut a swath across the Mediterranean, G&T in hand, contemplating our next move, as you do, decisions conclude with a casual stroll along the promenade. The beach consists of grey pebbles rather than soft white sand yet that doesn’t perturb the sun worshippers, one of them a burnt copper hue, aged beyond age recognition, reminds us the movie Weekend at Bernie’s…she’s Bernie!
A napping dog in a pram, plump Russians in their undies along side gorgeous bodies in tiny bikinis.
Sangria on the beach then back to await our additional travel companions, Kim and Donna due in tonight from Vienna. A night in as everyone relives their holiday to date.
When in France, one must reduce one’s bouffant to a chic pixie cut, just €35, cleverly orchestrated through elaborate sign language, gestures and a deftly murdered French pronounciation. A pixie for Pixie! Apt, the name coined by Fifi and Dicky after twice having to wee in forests.
Once settled, Fifi and I canvassed the local culture then settled into a corner bar to sip €2.50 vin rouge and indulge in a spot of people perving while Dicky napped. The exhaustion of navigating our way through the complexity of foreign signed highways, roads and skinny streets taking their toll.
