We have left France behind us, following the coastal highway towards Nice. We waved at Monaco – I briefly considered a stop, to add another country to the list. We’ll have to live with seeing it from a short distance, which is turning into a list of its own. I have seen Vietnam, Guatemala, and now Monaco from a small distance. One day… Anyway. We continued our path across the Italian border, stopping once for caffe doppio and a couple of paninis at a random Agip gas station. (Italian gas stations have remarkably good coffee!)
The coastal road itself had quite some construction work going on, so it took us about six hours to get to where we are. We stocked up on fresh groceries in Ovada in a Bennet supermarket. What a shit show. It’s huge. It’s crowded. You’d expect they have everything. Yet, they have no ingredients for ANY curry. The Italians forced us to cook pasta on our first night. All good. I like pasta. But I do not like shopping in an overcrowded and understaffed supermarkets with a crying baby and a tired toddler.
We parked for the night on a free camper lot that Heike found on an app. Upon arrival, there was no one. A small patch of rubble, with a grey water drain in the far right corner. All of it surrounded by bushes. No views. Nothing. Well at least it is secluded… Heike wondered if such a secluded place in the bushes would be safe. That’s when she did what no person should do when in doubt! She read the reviews. It had about 70 reviews – most of them excellent. The excellent ones don’t count. It’s always the negative ones that matter.
Three negative reviews for this camper lot. One complained that it was situated along a road, so there was a lot of noise. (Fuck off, you spoiled brat, you’re on a free space with facilities, if you want quiet, just buy your own island instead of your stupid Concorde luxury palace.) I dismiss those reviews. The next two, however, are more worrisome. They both mentioned whispers in the bushes, that disappeared after inspection of said bushes.
It doesn’t matter where you are. If people tell you there’s things whispering in the bushes, it creeps you out. Luckily, whilst I’m writing this post, two other campers have arrived. So we have a small army to beat the whispering weirdos in the bushes.
If there’s no post tomorrow, now you know why!
Robin Heinen 