'The Man With Concrete Intentions...'
Nice. Day off.
Woke up to the most fantastic piece of junk email I€™ve had in ages:
It is very pleasant to me to write to you my new friend! Your structure has very much liked me. It seems to me that you is that person whom I search. I shall tell a little about myself. I the nice girl. My name - Ekaterina. What is your name? Tell to me more about you. I wish to find second half. I search responsible for the man with concrete intentions. I very much would like to start to write to you. I hope has interested you and this letter does not remain without attention. You can write to me on mine e-mail email@example.com . I shall wait your answer. I shall necessarily answer you and I shall send my foto!
I'm afraid her email will have to remain without attention, but it is comforting to be thought a man with concrete intention.
My only concrete intention for the morning was to get my laundry done which I'm delighted to report was an intention soon fulfilled. I had a tip off from a fellow traveller and found a place not far from the hotel that had plenty of machines, provided soap, gave change and had a cafe next door. Major result.
Much of the rest of the day was spent in post-tour-launch catch up. The quantity of email that a man gets on the road is pretty startling, especially when 30 people are receiving memos and responding with a 'reply all'. Consequently, email from the outside world can sink without trace to the lower depths of the inbox, requiring a thorough trawl on an afternoon such as this. Amongst the chores to follow up, I found some cheery notes from friends, which brightened the process a little.
At the end of the afternoon a couple of us headed out. I'd noted that there was a Giacometti show on at Fondation Meaght in St. Paul de Vence, but on arrival the place was full to capacity with a queue from the ticket booth stretching half way across the street. Similarly the village of St. Paul itself seemed to be at capacity, its little streets looking more like Times Square than a medieval village. We bailed for less populated climes, holing up at a bar a couple of villages further north and spent the evening there. Never mind climate change or terrorism, I think tourism is probably the biggest threat to the survival of an area like this.