I also had a problem with my bike - something went badly wrong with the gears last night when I was visiting my secret land at the top of the hill across from the camp site.
So, turned up at reception this morning to report the bike problem. Only the bad cop receptionist was on duty - damn.
There was an English camper in front of me, white-haired in maroon shorts and a gray t-shirt. He was clutching 3 different Tablets/iPads under his arm; I knew he would be complaining about the internet connection.
"That's 3 days you've been spinning me that line," he said.
"Well, it must be your network's problem," says Bad Cop.
"But it works on none of these devices" - pointing to the clutch under his arm.
"I cannot help you."
He turns away from the desk and says "Ah, fuck off."
I repeat, white-haired, maroon shorts and a gray T-shirt.
"It's about my bike."
Anyway, she changed the bike with almost a smile.
Some photos before this connection packs up again.
|Last night's visit to Nirvana.|
|This morning's drumming perch.|
|Vehicles cleaning the beach while I drummed|
|A passing ferry.|
|I've got to get back down from here.|
Yesterday, visited the fish market at Royan for last night's dinner:
|Maigre plus green beans and potatoes|
|After dinner walk.|
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