Day 25: Friday, 3 June 1983

Start: Campground, Menton, France

End: Campground, Nice, France

An easy day. Didn't pull out of Menton until about 11:00. Pedaled slowly in gorgeous weather along the expensive playground of southern France. Spent an hour on the Promenade des Anglais admiring the beachgoers. Just another geek a-gawkin'. I keep finding incredible pastry and stuffing it all in my face. Had a tasty lunch along the beach with a French cycle-tourist who had a ton of questions about my gear. Got a little sunburn.

Decided the scenery was too attractive to move rapidly, so I pulled into a campground just back from the beach. Much more expensive than Italy, but this is the high-price district. Not many French-speakers at the campground. Lots of Germans, Swiss, Aussies, and Kiwis. Everyone in tents, but no other bicycles around. Also, can't help noticing all the women are topless at the campground as well as the beach. 

It seems like around here topless women of all sizes, shapes, and ages are impossible to avoid and impossible to ignore. Mostly I don't even try, although at least I attempt to achieve a certain level of subtle sophistication in my salacious surveillance. While reading outside in the shade of the June Bug, I spotted -- hard to miss -- a topless blonde sitting by her tent just across the path from me. Behind her, another topless woman meticulously brushed and patted the blonde's long, flowing hair. Peering cautiously over the top of my book, I surreptitiously observed for quite a long time before coming to the sudden, rather jolting realization that the beautiful blonde had no arms. Really. Otherwise perfectly lovely and curved and golden and radiant, but without arms.

Rather than eat in a restaurant, I wander around town and collect a picnic of roast chicken, quiche, pizza, strawberry tarts, and wine for dinner. I think I've been losing weight, so this might fuel me up. Beats the heck out of eating cold ravioli from a can with my fingers.

I picnic in the sand at the campground with two German guys in leather gear with big motorcycles. After dark the tall campground gates slam shut and lock. Not sure if that's to keep us in or intruders out. The Germans, dressed in black, come over to my tent and ask if I want to go out with them and look for clubs. I'm tempted, but pass. They swiftly scale the locked gates, stealthily jump down on the other side, and disappear into the night.

No expensive night life for me! Especially without knowing how easy it's going to be to get back into the locked campground. Instead, I'm falling into a regular road routine. Up around 6:00 or 7:00, grab pastry and fruit for breakfast, hit the road, keep eating pastry while riding, lunch on the roadside around 11:00 or 11:30, relatively little ground covered in the morning, but kick it in gear in the afternoon, pause briefly every hour or two to eat more and drink, stop around 6:00. Eat a big dinner. 

Riding, eating, and sleeping.

Conditions 

Distance: 30 km 

Weather: Beautiful 

Road: Good 

Traffic: Busy 

Terrain: Flat 

Mechanical: All is well 

Physical: Strong