243 DEAR DIARY, DAY SEVEN…

Dear Diary,

After a decent night's sleep, it was time to say au revoir to Nice and head along the coast to Seté. Well, we headed off after getting out of the underground car park, which was tighter than a clam with lockjaw. So tight in fact that my passenger side wing mirror has a new battle scar, a little memory of the trip. 

Google Maps said it was a four-hour drive, with many, many toll roads which we could breeze through using our Bip & Go contraption, which worked flawlessly right up to the point when Richie jumped the gun at the Toll Plaza and the barrier came down on his roof.  That didn’t stop him, though, as he gunned it onto the motorway system. 

We were merrily going along at 120kph when I noticed the blue lights of the National Gendarmerie in our mirror, a fair bit away but gaining quickly.  I thought Richie was definitely on his way to a ‘le fine’ for driving off without paying, but luckily there was something more important they had to deal with - possibly a sale at the local patisserie or something.

We had planned to stop, but we pushed on and completed this stage of the trip in one go.  As soon as we were off the motorway, we quickly joined the labyrinth of roads that make up Seté.  The city is made up of the mainland and islands.  There are bridges all over the place, and tiny streets barely wide enough for one car. Navigating around it is a challenge, especially when you throw pedestrians and cyclists into the mix.  Oh, and being on the wrong side of the road, of course, but we made it. 

We also made a traffic jam as we found our digs, but there was nowhere to park, which meant stopping in the middle of the street.  This went down well with the locals sat behind us trying to get on with their day.  We decided to drive around the block, by which time the owner met us and asked us to get our bags out; he would then show us where to park. 

Eventually, we all made it into the place, and what a place it is!  A walled oasis in the middle of the city.  Lovely, contemporary bedrooms looking out onto a central courtyard complete with a swimming pool, sun loungers and seating.  Carl decided to dump his bags and cannonball into the pool as the hosts were showing us around - sake.  On the roof terrace, there is also a seating area and a BBQ, which we may use tomorrow.  We also have access to a sauna and a mini gym which made us all laugh - as if we will use the gym. 

We got changed and had our tea in a restaurant on the waterfront.  The waitress spoke no English, meaning Lisa had two gins (when she asked for one) with a mixer called Pscttitt!  Apple Translate was as useful as a back pocket in a vest when it translated Carl’s fish platter from French to English as ‘fried squid, sperm and whores’ (I have photographic evidence to back this up). 

After the meal, we had a wander around this beautiful city, found a bar, and watched France vs Senegal, surrounded by giddy locals. <sigh> We decided to have an early night, so we came back, linked our phones to YouTube on the smart TV, and watched an episode of Still Game in bed about the pensioners fiddling the lecky because they are so cold… while it is 69* at midnight here. I appreciate the irony. 

Yours,

Rob