Its a hard life

Sun, wine, decent book, wine, beer, saucisson, salade.

Cafe au lait, more “Life”, the autobiography of Keith Richards.
It somehow seems more appropriate ot be reading it in Provence, especially as I’d just got to the era where they left the UK and ensconced themselves in Cap Ferrat, Vaucluse, Paris et al.

Oh well, nothing for it but to clip the headphones on, select Beggars Banquet and crack on.
Hmmm, lets give Let it Bleed some extra wattage, then try Sticky Fingers. And then, Exile on Main Street.
I had a VERY cool day. Very, very cool indeed.
Actually, make that two days.
All the while, meandering about or parked up in little villages in Provence or on the road there, 50 – 60 kms back up the hills behind the Riviera. Just so very beautiful up here.
Pity it is full of the French? It is a common comment.
Possibly, but they do have their compensations. I have even started doing the gallic shrug, complete with the upturned eyebrows, the downturned mouth and the palms out arms. I park the van where I need to and don’t give a sh*t. Someone beeps and makes the arm waving. I shrug, make the face, turn the palms out and all is good. Hahahaha.

Am stopping for a few days with the lovely Andrew, Kirsten, Jasmine and Daisy Bullock, brother and extended family of Marty whose workshop I am using in the UK. A truly wonderful bunch of Poms.
Had a crack at fixing the water pump yesterday (not sure what we did but seems to be working now) and then at putting the kybosh on the mosquito breeding program in the fountain.

Just worked out that today is Wednesday. Have a full week until I am due to get the car out of the van at Monza.
Best have a relax today then. Get the sweat-wheel out and for a ride into the village, pickup some stuff for lunch and then,…. maybe a rest this afternoon.

No photos today. Go google ‘pictures of Provence.
(Any with a big yellow van in it. That’d be me.)

Ciao for now.