I had a lovely train ride down to Beziers. As we passed through Sete, I got a glimpse of the ocean. The water is such a bright turquoise blue over here.
Lyvia, one of the girls who works at the bakery, picked me up at the Beziers station and drove me to the apartment. But not before we got pulled over by the local cops. Lyvia explained later that they pulled us over because we were pretty girls and that, had we been boys, we wouldn't have gotten stopped. Welcome to Beziers.
I didn't like the apartment. There were layers of dirt that I just couldn't scrub out. I vacuumed the mattress and still I felt squeemish about sleeping on it. I wasn't thrilled with our hotel in Paris, and Chris joked that at least the apartment I would live in next couldn't possibly be as bad as the hotel. JINX. I guess I'm a bit of a baby, though. Is it too much to ask that the hotel I stay in be at least as nice as my actual condo? My old boss, Eleftherios, always said that he never cared about where he stayed on vacation because it was more about exploring the destination than spending time in the hotel room. I keep trying to adopt that additude, but I am such a wimp. And a germaphobe. So I checked into the hotel that my classmate Anthony stayed in while he was here. Not the Ritz, but definitely, definitely better.
I also did some walking around.I walked down the bakery's street, Avenue Jean Moulin, then down towards the center of town and through a large park there. It's a lovely area. I took a break at a Salon de The----wish you could have been there Martha...