[EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL - 1984] DAY 16

Travel Notes
August 26, 1984 - Day 26
FRANCE - SPAIN

Nice - Perpignan, en route

Traveling through southern France, home of artists and the mistral - the hot, dry wind that starts brush fires and drives men mad. Famous also, for the Camargue and its wild horses. which is something that I'd like to see some day. Most everyone spent the morning half of the trip catching up on sleep lost in Monte Carlo, with myself sleeping over two seats, with legs stretched across the aisle and Teddy under my chin.

Perpignan - Franco-Iberian border

Bart made it known he doesn't care for Spain, and today he was justified. Apparently customs/immigration officer woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, because when Bart stopped two feet over the line, and not soon enough; Earl was ordered out with all the passports! The chief customs officer (a recipient of two bottles of wine from Bart's last run) came up to say hello, and we all replied in Spanish, which may have helped pass us through a little faster than otherwise.

Franco-Iberian border - Barcelona, Spain - en route

Having pulled out of the border crossing, there was no reason for Bart's opinon about Spain to improve. Ten minutes into the main highway, some kid decided we looked like a trash can and threw a heavy object at the side of the bus! The loud thump startled most people on the right-hand side of the bus, and many were the questioning glances being shot around the bus. Bart's temper showed itself when he declared he would let the car pass and then tailgate him the rest of the way, and in his quiet way, Earl averted potential crisis by firmly warning that it wasn't the right time. Fortunately Bart agreed, though he was rather grim about it. I seriously doubt the Antarctic would have been far enough away for the culprit if anyone from the bus had caught him!

Barcelona, Spain - Hotel Regina

To compensate for reining him in on the road, Earl let Bart have his way when it was time to park in front of the hotel. The official unloading zone was occupied, and the porter was insisting we unload where we were anyway. To the obvious question, "What if we are caught?" The porter shrugged, and Bart had a few well-chosen words with him. Dinner was at a little self-service that Earl goes to, however, another coach group had beat us to it.

"Outrageous!" comes the good-humored comment, from our good-humored Tour Manager. "This is *my* self-service!"

Earl excused himself early and left us in Bart's hands while going to arrange our night tour for tomorrow; the long line did not match his need for speed, since he needed to call various offices before they closed. Bart drew up behind me in the line and offered to make me the Tour Manager in Earl's place so I could eat for free, an offer I had too many scruples to accept, but it was tempting enough...