Rubbish – Donk-o – Disappearing cutlery – The Arm-o Challenge – Still more reasons not to compete in the Tour de France
Oh gosh it is nice to be back on the open road again. Time to put the brain back into neutral and see what happens.
1. What a load of rubbish.
Going out of Budoni yesterday Sid observed how clean the countryside was, not a piece of rubbish in site. This lasted exactly until we passed the town limit sign, and after that no ditch, plant, stone or roadsign was without its own piece of rubbish. Our suspicions are that Budoni has a committee which organises a litter pick, or a very constructive community-service-orders scheme. The most depressing piece of rubbish we have seen (and travelling at our speeds, each piece can get its own individual scrutiny) was an “Arbre Magique” air freshener. So somebody travelled here from France and then chucked their rubbish out into the Sardinian countryside. Merci beaucoup, merde-head.
2. Donk-o
Yes, time for our favourite game to morph again, we are now playing Spot The Donkey. Top prize today went to a group of three, one of which was having a most enjoyable roll in the dust.
Li-lo, Boat-o and Roofrack Of The Day were won simultaneously by a car carrying an inflatable canoe on the roof, deflated enough to allow the front to be tied to the front bumper and the back to the back bumper.
3. Disappearing cutlery.
We stopped in a most chi-chi little port today and our food was served with plastic cutlery. Which got us thinking, why would a snack bar do that rather than wash up metal cutlery? And the answer must be that those villains on the boats are stealing the eating irons.
Which reminded us of one of our favourite stories about the ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers), a cruise/sail event that runs from the Canaries to the Caribbean, taking around 3 weeks. One boat in the “racing” class had packed light, and there was one knife, fork and spoon for each member of the crew. On the first day they were doing the washing up in a bowl on deck, and a super-helpful member of the crew (who we shall call Nigel) took the bowl of dirty water and emptied it over the side. Unfortunately all the cutlery was still in it. He was, apparently, known as “that f*ckwit Nigel” for the rest of the passage.
4. Arm-o
Ah yes, this game is still taking shape in our minds, and all suggestion for rules are welcome. It started when we noticed that a lot of cars driving past us have an arm hanging out of the passenger window. The arm can be down, with the hand on the outside of the door, up, with the hand hanging onto the roof or the top of the A pillar, elbow-only, etc.
What inventive and amusing meaning can we attach to this? Apart from the obvious, which is one of:
a) I wish I had had the aircon regassed over the winter, or
b) I told my wife we wouldn’t smoke in the car.
Also how would a points scoring system work? Obviously some configurations are rarer than others, and from our viewpoint we can really only see the passenger’s arm. Or foot, in a few cases. Or two arms, usually but not always one in the front and one in the back. Or a very woofy dog, as happened once today and gave Sid such a shock he nearly fell off into the ditch. It’s a shame he didn’t really because there was a nice soft bag of rubbish for him to land on, and that doesn’t happen in every ditch you pass.
5. Reasons not to compete in the Tour de France part 3
Still thinking about this, and beaming little waves of gratitude to Matt White for once again mercifully releasing me from the obligation to compete for Mitchelton Scott.
Today’s reason includes the fact that they descend hills far, far too fast. I mean, once you’ve ground all the way to the top, let’s enjoy it, eh? Get off, stretch the legs, admire the view, take a picture of yourself/your bike/your cycling partner next to the col sign. What’s all that whizzy whizzy in aid of, you just get cold and frightened, and in some cases you even fall off.
Also they don’t get enough rest days. This year they had to wait till day 10 before getting a day off, and in 23 days overall they only get two days of rest. Really? Sid and Doris try to have a rest day about once every five days, although we got all excited on our way to Neilsons and did eight days in a row, but that was exceptional. We’re now strictly back on to the original three-five day limit.