Betty stopping off at Mater and Pater Toad’s on the way home. Mum’s garden is right out of fucking Country Living, and needless to say she is delighted with this fact. Sheesh.
Bette gets some real rallying done
Bette enjoying a semi paved toad. My backside, not so much.
Bette barrelling through the Tuscan countryside.
Bette hitting the Italian motorway after her epic traverse of the Lombarde pass. She is in pursuit of The Juke, an Austin Maestro which is amazingly still with us.
Well. Last night was interesting.. The chapwith the tattooed arms clowning around in the photo got paralytic and proceeded to cause untold havoc in the restaurant and later the small French town we were in. At one point he was collared by the local Gendarmes but managed to escape from their car in an Aberdonian act of cunning that rural French police are clearly not up to. Calming interventions by several of the group were unsuccessful. My own attempt ended up with me kicking him in the nuts which was most satisfying after his antics but suggests that calming interventions aren’t my forte. After a night spent wandering loose and trying to get in various wrong tents at the campsite, he now looks fresh as a daisy. Oh to be 24 again.
#rusttorome rumbles on. We are burning down the south coast of France en route to Monaco where, after a quick whizz round the F1 street circuit, we will cross into Italy and stay in a hotel. A real bed. With a real duvet. Bliss. The quantities of Cotes Du Rhone necessary to induce a full nights sleep in the tent are taking their toll. Not to mention that the romantic possibilities are somewhat limited in a nylon dome.
Tarn Valley and the Millau Viaduct
Day 5 of #Rusttorome sees us down in the South now after a largely motorway run from Calais via Paris. 16 bangers navigating the Arc De Triomphe produced some hair raising stories. A sortie to Parisian nightclubs by several of the lads produced even more and if one of them did end up barfing his way down the A10, I’m sure it was worth it. Thankfully we weren’t driving behind him.
We are now in the Tarn valley and onto country roads proper. Today’s stage is less than 200 miles but slated to take 6 hours which gives you some idea of the nature of the roads. This mornings highlight was crossing the Millau Viaduct though I’m sure the locals were unimpressed with our sunroof videography of the convoy crossing.
Yesterday we went down a road that was marked dangerous, the roads we are thundering down right now certainly ought to be. I may even have to stop tumble blogging. Imagine.