“May I let a room for the night?”
“Oui, Monsieur. Here is the the key to the bath.”
“May I have my room key?”
“After you take a bath.”
Rolling into Toulon, it’s been a full 75 km day of cross country skiing up and down hills in the rain. I can’t feel the tops of my feet, and a 2 cm diameter blood blister on my right foot is screaming for relief. I am completely thrashed and ready for a real hotel, since I never really got a good sleep last night on the Saint-Tropez lighthouse. Come to think of it, I didn’t sleep on the other four nights on the Antibes lighthouse, or any of them for that matter. And my last hotel night I didn’t even stay there because of the “Ted the Queer” incident. Man, am I due for a hotel night!