I have been contemplating my trip and considering what impressed me, and what did not. I thought I may as well publish my thoughts, just in case anyone might be listening. Well here you go:
Thumbs up to:
Druids - They rock. Like attending a greenpeace meeting, mixed with religion & elderberry wine. I love them.
Nant Peris' Campsite - A rose in Europes' fluctuating standard of campsites.
French Women - Always a smile and a nod.
University Towns - The place to be if you're young and seeking something. Bangor, Bath, Rouen, Avignon, Aix-en Provence all get the nod from me.
French Cyclists - They gave me constant appreciation, and support. I even got a round of applause from a pelloton on my way towards Les Baux. It felt good. However, thats' not the first time I have received clap, whilst entering a lesbian.... ho-ho.
Italian Police - Something about that laid back attitude, and lack of interest in proletarian control.
French Wine.
Italian Pizza - by the slice, priced by the gramme I might add.
Vineyards - I just loved camping in them. Olive groves too.
French Cycle shops - Kind and supportive. Free use of pumps in case you have a puncture, and even lent me some tools! Allez!
Old English tourists - They were just real friendly and considerate. Except when they are driving their motorhomes!
Tuscany - Never seen rolling hills, and farmland like it. Camping on the grounds of dilapidated farmhouses, is something I will treasure in my big dumb head.
Pasta - I love you.
Old Italian Men - Always happy to talk to you. In Pseudo conversation. I like their gestures of "Wow, thats amazing" - Slap of the hands kinda thing.
French Drivers - Thankyou for the wide berth. All, except for the idiot who ran me over in Aix-en Provence.
And a BIG ROTTEN Thumbs down to:
The Welshman - Who deflated my tyres for no apparent reason.
The french Police - So, its not just a stereotype.
French Landowners - You suck more than the English gentry.
French Garages - That treatment in Provence astounded me. I hope you burn in hell.
Sand Flies - Beware! Beware! when camping on beaches in the Welsh Coast.
UK Lorry drivers - Do they all have tunnel vision? Or do they just not care?
Romes' Scooter driving population - You should take note of all those roadside memorials, that I noticed.
Campsite Owners - How can you justify charging 13 euro per night to place my tent in a mosquito ridden field, then charge me more to wash my dishes, shower, and do some laundry. Cos' I can bleedin' well justify roughing it in a field for free after your games matey.
Bridge crossings on the Seine - Good God almighty! Like that scene in Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade, where he steps out into nothing and lands on a bridge. Except Indy wouldn't have the balls to do it on two wheels, with Trucks whizzing by.
Welsh Nudists - you dirty dirty dirty.... Im all for that freedom & Liberation thing. But masturbating whilst you're your being liberal? You'd give a politician a run for their money. I have the bizzare memory of holding a conversation with a nudist, on the subject of why... Whilst he is.... I can't begin to describe. Whiskey Shiver.
The Welsh Coast - More ups and downs than Bury Football Club. Don't get me wrong it was beautiful. Just demoralising.
Bike Locks - I hate you. I have enough trouble knowing what day it is, than to know where my keys are. I hate you too.
Welsh Mountain Instructors - Why did I have to approach YOU, to ask for my stove windshield back? Eh? Dickhead? I'd have liked to punch you in the mouth.
Italian Cyclists - They catch the train and ride back, so that they can have a tail wind. All lycra clad and carbon fibre, yet you couldn't look me in the eye and see my pain! Could you!
American tourists - ...
The Idiot who ran me over I Aix-en Provence - Fairly justified for a thumbs down to be fair.
Ligurian Coastal Villages - Such a source of beauty, yet such suffering cycling back out. St. Marguerite, for example. Enjoyed the gazes of astonishment from the locals at my insanity.
St. Tropez - Bardot et al, I hate you. Proof that being rich, doesn't mean you're clever. Or respected.
The Price of a can of pop in France - What's that all about eh? 2 Euro for a can?
English Pub Landlords - Just because Im not drinking myself into a stupor from the moment your doors open, doesn't mean you can enforcibly ask me why I am not.
UK Airport Security - I realised this country has gone mad, when they started putting microchips on our refuse bins. You just add salt to my wounds. Whats next? Mandatory finger searches? Why can I not carry a bottle of water, yet I can keep my shoes? Which of these two items has been supposedly used as a bomb previously eh? Final straw came in Liverpool Airport after CLEANING STAFF, bollocked me for my bike.
