I left L’Escalet and spent just a brief half hour or so at Bonne Tarrasse (the beach in front of the cabanon), but then I grew rather hungry so I made my way over to L’Esquinade. The kitchen was closed, but Manuel made me some food anyways and wouldn’t let me pay, again. People are way too good to me.
After I ate and spoke to some people back home, I found myself absolutely exhausted – not that I did anything strenuous yesterday. So I went to bed.
No sooner than I closed my eyes did the gorgeous day end and the terrible storm begin. The sky clouded over with thick, black clouds before the sun had even finished setting, and with an ear-ringing clap of thunder, baseball-sized drops of rain came pouring down. Bright flashes of lightening lit up the night every thirty seconds. In this part of the world, no storm is complete without awesomely forceful gusts of wind.
And all I could think about was the car. As much as it gives me trouble, I love it. I kind of have a thing for bad cars – mine at home leaked like sieve. And I was terrified I’d wake up and it’d be gone.
All the locals are locking up extra-carefully. They whisper bad words to one another, spreading warning of the gypsies. And figures, they’re camped right down the road from me. Not that they’re dangerous; things just may start disappearing. For example, there has been a rusted, old motorbike in the parking lot of Bonne Tarrasse since my arrival in June – and it looked like it had sat there for many months prior. The gypsies arrived two days ago, and already it’s gone. Let’s not jump to any assumptions or anything… but yea, let’s worry about the car.
I need to chill out. Stress is just a part of life, and though I may be living my dream in this fantasy land, it is still – in fact – reality.
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