So there was this one lovely day when I had a long break as did an adorable British companion of mine, we had an amazing port of call, and permission
to walk about together without breaking any rules. Longer story that, which would require a visit to www.singlemarriedgirl.com. But for now, just know, that this day, I decided to invite a friend along. Glory be, what
shall we do? I really wanted to take him to Eze, this staggering
cliffside medieval village. We go to the tour office and they map out
the multiple buses we will need to take to reach our destination, but
after about 30 minutes of waiting for the first bus to arrive, we decide
this is a futile exercise seriously cutting into the limited time we
have together so we decide to ditch the idea of Eze and simply explore
on foot the beautiful, picturesque village of Villefranche.
“What would you like to do my friend?” I query.
“I’m up for whate’er, so long as it is not too taxing.”
Okey doke. So off we set on our grand adventure. We spend a good deal of time at the shops, marveling at the skill, misguided as it is, would allow the rider of a Vespa to text while navigating the winding roads of this hilly terrain. Making the mistake of wandering into a soap shop, my companion for the day growns somewhat dismayed to discover that I cannot in fact leave before having sampled the scents of every fragrant bar in the place, hopefully before the sun begins to set. I have the same problem in candle shops.
“What would you like to do my friend?” I query.
“I’m up for whate’er, so long as it is not too taxing.”
Okey doke. So off we set on our grand adventure. We spend a good deal of time at the shops, marveling at the skill, misguided as it is, would allow the rider of a Vespa to text while navigating the winding roads of this hilly terrain. Making the mistake of wandering into a soap shop, my companion for the day growns somewhat dismayed to discover that I cannot in fact leave before having sampled the scents of every fragrant bar in the place, hopefully before the sun begins to set. I have the same problem in candle shops.
Anyway, the day wears on as we trudge about the streets when we at last realize we are now
lost in the French Alps, climbing uphill from the same village for the
second time. I fear we shall soon require repelling equipment. My
companion is still friendly but fatigued and at some point I am certain I
shall just have to mount him to my back like a Sherpa. We are walking
along a stone wall which seems to continue well beyond the horizon line
yet I am certain that around each corner we shall find the end and an
exit but all we seem to find is more wall.
We come to a little one lane road, hedged with bright pink flowers; beautiful to behold and the scent is intoxicating. There are four cars parked in the lot of nowhere, and even stranger, two police officers ticketing the forgotten vehicles inhabiting this desolate paradise.
One officer looks up, hearing our footsteps and with a look of confusion on his face exclaims, “What is it you seek? There is nothing here?”
What is it we seek? Shelter…sustenance…stairs that go down…any of these things would suffice.
My companion, the more level-minded of the two of us thinks to ask directions and we set out in the direction in which they point. Yes, they are correct. We can see the ship. It is so close it appears we could nearly touch it. Wish we hadn’t tendered* that day from the other end of the isle!!
*For anyone not familiar with this term, tendering is when a ship drops anchor in a port rather than tying to a dock and guests take a smaller boat to and from shore.
We come to a little one lane road, hedged with bright pink flowers; beautiful to behold and the scent is intoxicating. There are four cars parked in the lot of nowhere, and even stranger, two police officers ticketing the forgotten vehicles inhabiting this desolate paradise.
One officer looks up, hearing our footsteps and with a look of confusion on his face exclaims, “What is it you seek? There is nothing here?”
What is it we seek? Shelter…sustenance…stairs that go down…any of these things would suffice.
My companion, the more level-minded of the two of us thinks to ask directions and we set out in the direction in which they point. Yes, they are correct. We can see the ship. It is so close it appears we could nearly touch it. Wish we hadn’t tendered* that day from the other end of the isle!!
*For anyone not familiar with this term, tendering is when a ship drops anchor in a port rather than tying to a dock and guests take a smaller boat to and from shore.
