Home safe, at last...

Honestly, I think I just wasted two solid days of my life in the worst possible way. Really, there goes a good 48hrs (sans sleep) of potential good times in St. Tropez – or really anywhere else besides bus stations and airports – that I will never get back.

Without access to a phone and my only form of communication an overpriced Internet connection, somehow my family, friends and I worked to pull it together for me, cancel my ride (though he was already on his way to Nice), and find me another flight to Le Midi… for 7am the next morning. So I was trapped, starved, exhausted and sad in a boring airport by myself for a good 12 hours. All I have to say is thank God for McDonalds and the worldwide consistency of their hamburgers, supersized fries and chocolate milkshakes.

I tried to move around as much as possible since sleeping wasn’t really an option (I had too many valuables in my bags to close my eyes). As the check-in for the flight to Nice neared, I became the rallying point for all the senior citizens about to make the same trip (must have been the hat). And then of course I had to throw a fit (not of tears, just anger) at the British Airways employee who wanted to charge me $500 to check my overweight luggage. Hah. That wasn’t going to happen. I had spent enough already, thank you.

Long story long, made it on the plane just fine, arrived in Nice, spoke lots of wonderful French (go me), then waited in St. Rapheal for hours for Z (the ride I blew off last night). I guess he thought it would be funny to blow me off this time and never show. So I sat in the smoldering heat (perfect beach weather, as if to rub it in) from 1:30 until 6. Just another obstacle in my horrific journey to Cap Camarat. I caught the last bus to St. Tropez, which takes an hour and a half to drive what usually takes 25 minutes. Still no sign of Z, so I took a cab home (with a VERY handsome chauffeur) – only to discover that Z had just left for St. Tropez to get me. The car is at his place, so I went to my house instead of picking up the car, searched for the key that I could not find and then, voilia, my first stroke of good luck – my cell phone that hasn’t worked all week magically decided to (and now its back to not working). I called Laurence (the cousin with whom I spent last week) and she – the amazingly kind woman that she is – walked my directly up to the hidden key. Let myself in and…

Home sweet home, at last:



In my beautiful summer residence, ready to unpack. This is the second day I lost in my paradise to awful travel experiences, but I’m here at last. Couple days behind – still gotta get me some fresh white peaches and start job hunting… but c’mon now, I’m in the French Riviera, I’ve gotta find time for the beach!


And this is the view I so desperately wanted to wake up to this morning:



Now do you understand why I was so upset?