You guessed it – Montpellier
Montpellier Travel Blog› entry 8 of 13 › view all entries
While it appears that my relationship with Sabina is cooling before it really gets off the ground, I am consoled by the fact that Mats, who has dared to show more than a passing interest in her, seems to be striking out as well. Yesterday turned out to be quite the abortion. I was to hit the beach with the usual gang of breasties, but it turned out that at the last minute a few of them had phone calls to make, others had washing and ironing to take care of, and others were going to be calling home. By the time all the dust settled, it was too late to head out, so I elected to go to town on my own. There is a short cut to get there, but unfortunately, the short cut back is harder to find, so after meandering aimlessly for a while I gave up and took the long way home. Not a trip highlight day.
Dinner was most interesting. Vibeka, Eva and I teamed up with a bunch of Algerians who had somehow avoided the border patrols and snuck into France. They couldn’t have swum there from Algiers because their bodies evidently hadn’t been close to water in some time. The Algerians were on some type of hajj or pilgrimage into the mountains. Figuring that the day could only get worse, although not knowing exactly how, I decided to further tempt fate and join along. They brought with them a whole sheep – dead (barely). We gathered wood from the surrounding hillsides, dug fire pits and were introduced to the Arab cookout – a mishwi. The lamb, or sheep or mutton - whatever, was roasted whole on a spit. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a more delicious meal!
Post dinner dialogue in front of a fire proves to be a recipe for comfort with just a hint of romantic. I was one on one with Eva and she started playing ‘Catch me if you can’. I later found out that she was toying with me as payback for my continuous sarcasm vis-à-vis her, her every action, and my opinion on the motives behind them. She may have had a point. I enjoyed immensely the opportunity to talk late into the night with her but I am still unable to determine if she’s a clever dupsteress or if her speech is a reflection of her true being. I can’t help but fear that her allusions to good are little more than illusions of evil. She scares me; and worse than that, I doubt I’ll ever get into her pants.
We ended the evening on a positive note since one of the other female mishwi attendees had a car, was heading back toward the university and had room for me and the girls. I’d have hated to leave them at the beach to fend for themselves. The woman should have charged for the excitement. Either she was colour blind or had a psychotic aversion to stopping at red lights. Although she spoke with a broad, come from anywhere European accent, I ascertained that she had to be from England, since she incessantly drove on the left side of the road. I literally kissed the ground when I got out of the car, arriving miraculously safe and sound at the dorm.
The next morning Eva was to accompany me to the beach. We agreed to get up at nine to get there by ten. At 10:30 the Princess awoke. She accompanied me downtown, which was about half way to the Mediterranean, and abruptly changed her mind, deciding to head back and wait for a phone call from boyfriend #2, her second stringer. I hitched to the beach and swam in the Sea for four hours, getting good and dark. I’d have sold my birthright around then for a large bottle of Johnson’s and Johnson’s Baby Oil. On the plus side, my ongoing hair loss that has me concerned every time I showered seems to have abated. All I have to do is find some semi-tropical paradise on an ocean, near a beach surrounded by great food and beautiful women. Shouldn’t be a problem.