Pictorial blethers

By blethers


We left Greoux-les-Bains in the darkness of 6am. Our taxi driver was a friendly Parisian whose French was clear enough for me to enjoy a conversation. In this way I learned that cars vanishing down tiny rural roads at this hour were probably les chasseurs out hunting wild pigs, and that the decline in interest in the sport among the young had led to a troublesome upturn in the number of wild pigs which destroyed crops and gardens.

The journey to Nice took two hours. I dozed, and woke just as the sun appeared, sending gleaming shafts of light down the motorway. This is that moment- not much of s photo, but a reflex on waking...

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