The Wind In My Hair

I was off to a lunch yesterday in Villefranche. Marj and her partner, James, had invited a pile of friends down to their villa overlooking the bay from high up on the hill. It was a fantastic view, the curry was amazing (yes – curry) and the sun shone most of the time.

As J was in Cyprus and the kids were with their father, this was a great opportunity to get the Alfa out, get the hood down and set off on the open road. I know it might seem a bit irresponsible to talk about speed but any engineer will tell you that a car needs a good wanging occasioanally, and it was my intention to get the right foot down and clear the cylinders of all the gunge which results from short, slow trips.

Those who know my area will also know that until you get past Vence, speed isn’t really a possibility but to get behind a car doing 25 km per hour (that’s a pedestrian 15 mph !!!) for the 3 miles into Tourrettes wasn’t a particularly good start. When it pulled off into the village car park I waved it an adolescent ‘goodbye and good riddance’ and looked forward to the open road.

It wasn’t long before I got to the péage (toll) and the motorway beckoned. I paid my 60 cents and slammed the foot on the accelerator and found three Porsches in my way. Now, as you know, Porsches don’t give way to anything or anybody, especially to an old grey guy in an old grey car and they kept me behind them all the way along the 5 miles of the A8 until I got to the airport where I could pick up the Voie Rapide which is a sort of Nice bypass.

This has a 70 kmh speed limit which is pretty slow for a road which pedestrians are not allowed anywhere near and yes, there it was, the ubiquitous Renault Twingo dawdling along at precisely 70kmh. Could it have pulled into the inside lane – yes. Did it – no ! I don’t like undertaking because French drivers are quite unpredictable and the word also has the smell of death to it so I just kept my distance behind it as the guy no doubt marvelled at how quiet the road was. No bloody wonder – everybody was stuck behind him!  

As I sauntered through the few streets of eastern Nice before I hit the Grande Corniche (the high road along the coast), I encountered a car which stopped at a green light to let a passenger out, a car which stopped in the single lane I was in to look in a shop window, and the cars who stopped on the roundabout to work out which exit to take. The thought of actually going round the roundabout until they work it out, seems to escape them. These are the drivers who look in their rear-view mirrors and wonder at the carnage behind them, completely oblivious to the fact that they caused it!

A few minutes later I was on the Grande Corniche and heading up into the hills behind Nice. The road was empty, the Alfa was running as sweet as a nut and it was idyllic……. then the rain started and I looked a complete idiot, driving with my roof down!