I decided to try the bus into town. I waited at the stop and was joined by a hobbling French guy. He had had an operation on his Achilles. Well he started chatting as you do when waiting for a bus, I say chatting that would mean that I would be adding into the conversation. Well I didn’t or was it couldn’t. He didn’t stop talking and I only got half of it.

The bus arrived and I let him get on first so I could avoid him. An hour of this guy would have done my head in. The bus was packed and there were no seats left. He made his way down the bus as I stayed near the front.

“Oi you lot, move down the back there’s plenty of room” shouted the diminutive French female bus driver.

We all shuffled back down the aisle and we were underway again towards Nice. At the next stop a big young bloke got on and pleaded that he didn’t have enough money for the bus trip. We all knew it was rubbish as it is only €1.

The driver wasn’t having anything of it.

“Get Orf…” she told him

Well done girl.

Change of a £50 note didnt wash with this bus driver

At last people were getting off and there was a spare seat towards the back of the bus in a group of four. I made my way down and sat down ahhh thats better I thought. 

"Bonjour"......

Oh no! it was Achilles bloke, sitting right opposite me.

Come on then I can put up with a 30 minutes. 

 

I knew I should have got the train

When I arrived in Nice I stopped by the Chinese pound shop where there was a large cardboard advertising stand promoting candles. €2.50 for three little yellow candles like tea lights.

I had to laugh as the owner had scribbled badly with a big black marker pen all over the top of the advertising board

‘Anti-Mosquito’

Hahahahaha Yeah right, I thought, who is he kidding.

I bought three.

I headed back in the late afternoon and back to base camp that every day, by the way, is looking more and more like a gypsy park. All I need is a beaten up old car sitting on it and that would be it……hold on I have got a beaten up old car sitting on it.

The train arrived and I hopped on and as we all took are places a small rotund guy got on. He was casually dressed with jeans and a shirt and slightly long hair and was about 45.

I was staring at him, well to be more precise, it was his tattoos he had on his hands. I couldn’t believe it.

On each knuckle he had a letter. On one hand it said L..O..V..E and on the other, yes you guessed it, H…A…T…E… Brilliant I thought.

Didn’t everyone at some point scribble that on their knuckles at school (Ed..err  no) and here it was for real.

I arrived back at 12 Mosquito Alley and sat down and immediately sparked up one of the ‘Anti-mosquito’ tea lights. It wasn’t long before the mosquitos were all huddled round the candle chatting away….

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…..Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”         (So what’s on zee menu tonight?)

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…….. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” (Not English AGAIN)

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…..Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii……Niiiiiii” (Yes I am afraid zo, its ze roast beef again.)

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…..Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” (Oh well, better zan dog)

"Bloody hell and to think , I've got another two of these"