My crazy Welsh mate called today. He's had this week and next booked off for ages and has been bending my ear about getting away for even longer. He's finally broken. Can't take it anymore. There's surf due for the jubilee bank holiday this weekend but it's not soon enough and not far away enough from home.
So we're hitting the road. Booking the ferry as I type. Driving away from near certain good surf and good weather at home in search of foreign shores and slightly sunnier climes.
I'm skint, but he's so desperate to go he's paying 3/4 of the fuel. All I need to sort out is a bit of grub and a splash of fuel. It's not too high a price for a bit of adventure, even if the surf will probably be better back home. I'm looking forward to sleeping out under the blanket of the night sky, to new faces and new places. To new roads and footpaths taking us to destinations of disappointment, euphoria or someplace in between.
Better go pack...
In the meantime, here's a little slice of France I found on Google Maps. Tastier than melted camembert on hot croissants.
No comments:
Post a Comment