Hello, it’s me. Did you miss me? I did. It’s been a month since I last blogged, I told myself I was going to get better but alas, here I am a month on, finally putting fingertips to keyboard (pen to paper sounds so much better but that would be a lie).
It was just a normal Thursday. I had dinner in Monaco with Factor Bikes owners, Baden and Rob, I got the train home around 9.30pm hoping to make it back in time to head down to the beach and watch the Bastille Day fireworks display. I dropped my laptop at my apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge and started walking down in the direction of the Promenade des Anglais. About halfway there, I turned around. I went home.
I have been in Nice almost three weeks now and I’m finally moving into an apartment this weekend, I’ve had both my passports stolen, I’ve had some crazy nights out watching the Euro 2016 football and I’ve surprisingly remembered a whole lot of my high school French.
It’s that one thing all travelers dread. You get to your hotel after hours and hours (or days in my case) of travel and your passport is nowhere to be seen. You check all your bags, even though you know which one it should be in, surely there has been a mistake and you’ve just misplaced it in another bag. But alas, after pulling out everything you own, it’s confirmed it’s gone.
Imagine if the Tour of the Gila was on television.
After returning to The Netherlands from France, I found my way to the south west of the country to the area where Dad spent some of his life as a child. Not far from Rotterdam, I stayed with the sister of one of his classmates and her husband. Despite not seeing each other for 30 years, they have kept in touch and they very kindly gave me a bed for a week.
London 8pm: I had trained three hours to get to the airport, waited in the security line for 45 minutes, my flight was delayed, I was exhausted and then I checked my reservation.