Our lazy day leaks into the next and we get a late start.
Which is great, the only thing we really need to accomplish is getting to St Tropez.
It’s not much of a drive to remember, until the final 30 kilometers, where the idle road gets animated and races down the side of the mountain.
People in expensive cars are ripping past me and I half expect Michael Douglas to weave past me in pursuit.
St. Tropez is a vacation town, where people escape their day to day fake lives for a fake holiday life. Lots of sun, lots of expensive trinkets. It’s the kind of place families can come for a nice time, but the 14 year olds can escape for drinks and kiss boys from other towns. And see rock bands on Thursdays I guess.
Our time there is a bit of a hazy blob. We have an aloof minder, who I suspect doesn’t understand English quite as well as he pretends to. The resort has given us two unrented mobile homes to call home sweet home, which is just hilarious to me. I can’t imagine coming to an expensive resort and arriving to find out my pricey accommodation is a mobile home, protected by a huge spider. But hey, what do I know, I’m a brokeass.
We are given 210€ worth of food vouchers, which we can’t even start to imagine what to do with. The band we’re playing with, Blood Red Shoes, buys a boogie board with them. Zach and I order 500gram steaks and mussels, cause you can’t eat a boogie board.
The night ends classy. So much Moet. I can’t believe we have a 12 hour drive to Slovakia tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment