26th June. No Bicycles On The Bus!

For some reason the Otter had reasoned it would be a good idea to bring one massive cardboard box about the size of a piano.

It was bad enough getting from the Cote D'Azur Airport to the campsite, Isabelle was all for spending €90 on a taxi, "My entire budget for food" wailed the Otter "It's only €1 on the bus"

Anyway in stage 2 of the cardboard box game three buses had already refused to take the now assembled bicycles back to Nice so we could "Relax" (what a joke) before the race. Obviously some H&S ruling, it was obvious the only answer was re-boxing.

I'm afraid with the heat, the cardboard boxes, the burger illness and what have you, I began to get heavily into my usual "What's the fucking point?" routine, Isabelle started talking about taxis again and I had to go and sit in the shade.

"I thought that was going to be a real fall out" commented the Otter who is learning a lot about

relationships on this holiday.

To cut a long thing short a bit of haphazard stuffing back in, which still left the handle bars protruding like the horns of a Highland cow and we were sorted and on the bus. Unfortunately only for about 2 mins, when Isabelle had a "MY BAG!" moment or rather "MON SAC!"

This is when a woman is parted from her handbag usually filled with inconsequential dross but in this case also passport and wallet. "ARETTE! ARETTE!"

That might have been it, as we continued on the road to Nice now with a grand total of  2 bicycles and eight pieces of luggage including a box the size of a piano but no Isabelle.