Le Pouzin, Rhone Vallee

Friday 1 July

Getting into the second half of the trip now.

So Cannes...

Checked out of the hotel yesterday morning, lost its "little gem" status a bit when my mastercard wouldnt work,

and everytime I threatened to push the validate (enter) button, the proprietor went into paroxysmic arm-waving

so I gave up and paid cash.....

have to watch it a bit, there's a bit of feigned ignorance goes on in tourist territory, part of the reason I dont like it here.

Eased tentatively into the morning traffic, linking with the scooteratti, still amused by the helmeted women riders, heels, light dresses, business jackets or suits, label handbag slung around neck or shoulders, any thought I'd been losing my nerve soon lost in the hurrying to get to work rush.

In fact, I start to get aggressive, pissed at the lack of any semblance of who has right of way, there dosent appear to be any, frowning and scowling at anybody who even looks like getting in your way is order du martin.

Even the pedestrians, I be polite at crossings, but still get arm-waving, either a dont shoot cower, or a bugger off you infidel bastarde, a smile rarely works. I far prefer the USA situation where children and pedestrians are sacrosanct, stop regardless or its 2 nights in the slammer.

Setting the GPS for Antibes I have a putter round the Cap to Juan Les Pins, Pete Sarstedt's song remember, had it as a signature on my guitar in its day:

Tell me the thoughts that surround you?.. Yeah right!

When you go on your summer vacation,

you go to Juan Les Pins

with your carefully designed topless swimsuit

you get an even suntan,

on your back, and on your legs

Wend through Cannes and the waterfront, opulence, luxury yachts in the bay like aphids on a rosebud, getting on to 11's now, place is chocker, spot a Gucci storefront, not as many classy women as you'd think, but those you do see walking platinum cards. A service truck has stopped right where the driver feels its most convenient, as they all do, in the middle of the lane, there's a lot of honking, and after 5 minutes or so there's that familar der, dar, der, dar, der, dar as the gendarmerie arrive, and quickly as the traffic jam happened , it resolves, but the truck is still firmly in place. I manage to follow all the other scooters as we thread in and out of the stalled traffic, and make our getaway.

I follow the coast to St Tropez, magnificent ride once out of the traffic, far better  place, laid back, bit like St Helliers is to Aucklands beaches, away from the madding crowd.

This whole stunt takes about 3 hours, but at least I can say, been there, even if I didnt stop for the T-shirt.

Amen to all that, and I have to gas up at an Intermache (supermarket) in St Tropez, before re-engaging the GPS set for fastest route to this hotel I'm at now in La Pouzin, just south of Valence in the Rhone Vallee.

Again, I've no idea where GP's taking me but I'm in for another surprise, a huge one, and maddenly I cant retrace the whole route, even on the detail map, just have a few towns names in my memory and the mastercard chit from a station I got some gas from.

I'm quickly into the hills, its cooler and traffic free, nice road, plenty of curves, this is where Jean Rebelle belongs, en chemin, and then I flick on to it, I'm heading into Provence, so this is where all that dreamy, poetic stuff has its genesis. And after 300km of it I'm totally hooked, cant explain why, soft colours, fields of lavender and golden grain shimmering in sweeping valleys, old stone houses with blue shutters and terracotta tile roofs, narrow rocky or wooded gorges leading up to cols of 700-1000m, then wending switchback down to the next sweeping valley, I pass over a col road-marked a la Le Tour, and can envision the peliton sweeping by, even think I see the spot where Lance did that bounce across the grass in unplanned short-cut of a switchback.

I take countless photos, each one a firming reminder I must get myself some acrylics and canvas when I get home, I have such a horde of paintable subjects from the Drome.

Nice hotel here, its an Ibis-Accor, I've had another 8 hour sleep. The Rhone is a stone's throw out my window, so wide it could be mistaken for a lake through the trees. Great breakfast, and have to say I've got to enjoy the couple of croissants and conserves, and ces martin I've added a couple of light crepes avec ham and fromage, and a bowl of pineapple and orange pieces. I had a lapse on the coffee machine and pushed the espresso button, but went back for seconds, tried the 'long american' button to get a decent serve. Excellent coffee anywhere here in France, you can tell by the dregs left in every cup.

Now I'm back in provincial France the girls are decidedly more attractive too, a couple of honeys at reception and breakfast bar, eye games country again.

I notice a sign back along the way, Avignon Rugby Stade, thats what I want to be re-incarnated as, a discarded Hurricane with a contract, right here will do! 

The bathroom facility in the room is interesting, its a quarter-round cabine module I guess is in the corner of every room, basin, loo, and a shower with doors that open both out and in so it dont drip on the floor. Have to give the French their due, you see exceptional design flair all over the place.

A car??? at the St Tropez gas station

The '95 Range Rover I once had was such a shameful cobble of componentry from all round the world that its reliability was a disgrace, I recall a discussion group comment that it would have been far better French designed, before being engineered in England, fair comment.

The trucks on the roads look pretty cool too, from a boys toys point of view, classier than the American's plain-Janes.

Quick summary so far:

best place - Annecy

worst place - Cannes

place by the sea - St Tropez

sentimental place - Tavaux et Pontsericourt

exciting place - des Grand Alpes

place I would come back to - PROVENCE!!

Still, better not be too hasty, have to see if my bike is still where I left it chained last night, behind the hotel.

I see the odd Harley in my travels, quite amusing seeing the French trying to look like Hog geezers

its just their Gucci-ness gives them away, specialement le chics au pillions.

The other thing rarks me up a bit round the roads is the French driver, no matter what the vehicle, service van, dorky little Citroen ute, 6 ton truck, or mundane voiture, they all want to assert their speed supremacy, like they got little balls need proved to be bigger.

Mostly, I just let them have their way, but now and again I lose patience, drop the Bandit down 2 cogs in a hairpin and leave them to it.

Anyway, such drags never last long, the average motorist dosent seem to stay long on my tail long or in front once having triumphed before turning off, I think most of the road usage is local.