The last stop in France

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We slept like we were paid for it last night and woke up to the sound of the lake outside the window being topped up by the weather. Yes, it was raining, but somehow the darkened sky just added to the drama of this place. OK, the prospect of managing a quarter tonne Triumph, plus luggage and weary passengers down that hill and around those bends in the wet left me a little apprehensive. Oh well, it could stop whilst we ate breakfast. It did, just in time for a photo shoot before setting off. As part of this piece of advanced photo journalism I spotted a wilderness riding centre. Do I tell Julia? She likes horses riding. Not me, dangerous things, give me a bike any day. Ah but she has been indulging my two wheeled adventures so it's only fair.

Photos taken we were off again. Fortunately the hairpins seem to dry quicker than the straight bits, so my previous concerns soon dissipated and we were heading for Monaco. This was to be a whistle stop visit before moving on to tonights accommodation. There were two route options, one, along the low roads towards Nice, then turn East to Monaco. The second, into the mountains and straight down into Monaco from the North. Come on, this is us, we headed off into the mountains again. OK this time it wasn't such a good idea. At the top, with our limited understanding of French, we just about made out "Dangerous Road, uneven Surface, Gravel". This particular stretch of byway was a single track affair, with grass growing up the middle. The drop down the side that would afford us time to phone home and say our goodbyes before we reached the bottom if we slipped up. We turned around. Nice here we come. Sometimes things happen for good reason. There is a gorge, not like the skinny gorge from yesterday. This one is about 6 miles long with great tarmac and fast sweeping bends. The Tiger didn't seem quite so imposing as it had this morning in the wet, almost agile even. At the end we pulled in for a coffee before moving on to Monaco.

Do you know when something seems like a good idea, but in reality the hassle just spoils it. That was Monaco. The sun was up now, the roads were dry and everyone and his Ferrari was heading there. Tolls, traffic jams and trying to hold the bike in the heat, on a steep hill whilst waiting for red lights to turn green, just took the edge of the experience. Once into this millionaires playground, trying to negotiating the crammed streets just wasn't worth it. The Armani clad pedestrians, more interested in Instagram than staying alive were an added problem. We decided it wasn't worth the risk of scraping some debutante off the front of the bike whist she took a selfie so we made our way out.

Did I say it was raining this morning? That wasn't rain, that was the clouds kissing the mountain tops. What came next was rain. About a hundred miles of it. This was rain on a biblical scale. The motorway turned into a river and the spray from invisible trucks, somewhere in that cloud of water ahead was the stuff of nightmares. I suppose if you have to have a really wet day it may as well be on the boring motorway. We pressed on.

Tonights destination was a B&B about half way between Montpellier and Marseille, just outside the small town of Arles. The rain stopped with about 30 miles to go and as the temperature rose, so did our spirits. We found the place exactly where Mr Garmin said it would be. This was a farm, with horses, and the B&B on the side. It was idilic. The town was idilic, the surroundings were idillic and the accommodation was about the nicest so far.

Once showered we set out to hunt for fuel and then food. Mr Garmin wasn't so good at this. We picked the closes petrol station, 0.4 km. Turns out this was as the crow fly's and it was a service station 6 km down the motorway. 'kin thing. Next, to find a supermarket. This was about 5 km away and, as it turned out, just next to the second closes petrol station, which in real terms was the closest. Still with me? Good. Essentials bought (beer, wine, bottles of water for the journey) we headed off to a pizza place we saw signposted near the B&B. Turns out it was next door. Lucky that. It was the pizzeria equivalent to a B&B, set in an outbuilding of the neighbouring property. This is not a criticism. On the contrary, the food and service were superb.

Fed and watered we were ready to turn in so that is exactly what we did.



Have a good 'un

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