So, we wake up at about 1000h and it is FUCKING...
FUCKING!...Hot.
We both look over at each other, look at the atlas, look back, and sigh.
We both become aware that the other is demoralised as fuck, tired and...well...we want to slow down.
Yesturday was hell, 7 hours in a truck with nothing to do is boring. Trying to get futher than 300km in a day is exhusting. After a lengthy chat and a trip to the train station we realise that getting to Marsaille is 2 days, and being in Paris no later than Tuesday will be hard and pushing it at best. If the flight was Friday, it would have been fine, but it wasn't. This - coupled with the tempurature set to only get higher the futher south we got - cemented the notion in my mind.
Fuck Marsaille, lets go to Paris.
With this in mind, and it being past 1300h already, we go to the resturant below our room and have lunch €10 each for a "meal of the day" (starter, main, dessert of the day, etc) which - to be fair - was really nice and pretty cheap considering.
We finish up and make our way towards the ring road.
Note: BRACE FOR FAIL!
After 30 mins in the searing heat we get a lift from 2 french kids - guys. Instead of asking where they were going BEFORE we got into the car, we packed everything in, and THEN asked.
They were going east, not north. To a little village, not the motorway. Buzzy decides that it would have been rude to tell them they are retarded for going to the middle of no where, and I'm too hot and tired - and don't speak French - to do anything about it.
20 mins later we're surrounded by vinyards; on all sides, literally, surrounded.
5 hours, and a multitude of short lifts later - none more than 10km - we eventually get back to the near the road.
And then the cops show up.
They say something in French, I looked at them very, very confused. In short, they say we can't hitch there and move us along.
We traipse along the road for a bit and find a carpack of a shopping centre, have a very angry packet of noodles, curse the living fuck out of the pigs, and eventually get a lift back to another junction.
That is deserted.
So badly that I could walk out into the middle of the on-rap, lie down, roll around for a good 2-10 minutes and NO cars would go down it.
"You stupid fucking french bastards! You're only being like this because you're jealous! You're got two seats if you give us one lift for each invasion WE saved you from you can repay your ENTIRE debt to humanity, you stupid ignorant CUNTS!!!!
And now I'm done....
We go for a walk as is starts to get dark to find somewhere to pitch. After 10 mins of wandering we see a sign for a campsite! AND A PIZZA KIOSK!!!
It was shut.
However the bloke was just clearing up and knew where the campsite was, so he took us there.
Already dark, and a good 20 mins walk later, we see another sign and he tells us if we go down that road it will be on the left.
No dice.
We find a field - proclaim "FUCK THIS!" - and pitch.
Sleepy times me thinks
