I followed Indietracks with a trip to Montpellier, basically immediately. The intention was to camp near the beach and read books in the blazing sunshine for a few days. The reality was somewhat different...
The campsite with which I 'booked' online was full. Completely full. Even for my miniscule tent. And all the other campsites were full. Until September. They had sent me a confirmation for my demand for a booking, but not a confirmation whether or not my demand for a booking was going to be confirmed or not. Sometimes doing things on a whim doesn't work out as well as you'd hoped.
My fears were truly realised in conversation with a guy in the Office de Tourisme. There is something about the juxtaposition of a laugh and a "good luck" that really brings it home. The cheapest place I was going to be able to spend any of the next three nights was going to cost, at best, €160, per night; the weekend would be worse. I knew the Eurozone was in crisis, but I didn't realise it was THAT bad. So I did what any sane man would: I went to McDonalds.
They have free WiFi. After no little searching of the surrounding coastline my phone started to warm me of its diminishing battery power...it was time for some more whim! I wanted coastline but Montpellier isn't connected to too many airports without additional connections, so I jiggled around my Easyjet booking and scored a flight to Gatwick. At the very least I would be able to find a hostel in the south of England that could put me up.
I ended up in Alfriston, a small village five minutes on the bus from Seaford, near Newhaven. Okay, the beach wasn't outside the zip of my tent, but it was just as hot. And I'd only really ended up in Montpellier as it was the only place (I thought) I could manage to book a campsite within reach of a budget med-coast airport. I landed on my feet this time - the next day I found a game of cricket (real, actual cricket on a green) being played next to the beach. Sun, sea, sand, sixes, etc. Sexy, trés sexy.
The next few days were taken with riding local buses, sitting on top of cliffs and on beaches, absorbing dangerous levels of UVA and UVB radiation, working my way through a few books, listening to songs sung by friends and songs sung by me and songs sung by me and friends, and writing a fair amount. I'm enjoying the writing. Mr. Williams was always my favourite teacher in school (A-level English Lit) but circumstance, or nature, or nurture, or experience, or lack thereof, or expectation, or just one of these, or a combination, or me and me alone meant it never came top of my priorities, along with other subjects on the creative side of the art/science dividing line. I guess maths just came too easily and, as ever, I took the path of least resistance.
There are other things I am writing that haven't made it onto here. At the time of writing this, I have an amount of desire to pull together these other things into something cohesive. Time will tell...time and maturity...
I'm now off to the relative peace of the Swedish countryside. Thoughts are with those of you enduring the disquiet on your doorsteps. Here's hoping all the perpetrators are swiftly brought to justice and the powers that be appropriately address the reasons for them feeling they had nothing to lose. Take care y'all.
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