13 Sep Too much
Although I had already spent seven nights at the campsite, I would have liked to stay. Of course, nothing pushes me, I could stay, but as we all know, you should go when it’s best.
Since I sent a lot of stuff home in the mail and now only want to pack one bag, all the fun took way too long again. While I was packing my new tent neighbors asked me if I wanted a coffee and to a fresh espresso, I could not say no, too times this young family comes from the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland and if someone should be able to make coffee, then yes probably them. So it was, a really good, tasty kickstarter in tag and a great conversation to boot.
11:00 o’clock I finally got going and quickly realized that packing my bag now works a little differently. Somehow I had too much weight in my hands, it felt heavier than with the 23 kg sent away. The second bag, which I previously strapped on top, I could move a little forward or backward and thus balance the cart, I could not do that now. Nevertheless, I marched off, cursing for a while because it was harder, but soon with the realization that this was now getting better day by day.
First we went to Nice, the city I had learned to love two days ago, and my walk along the beach promenade did not change that. First I passed the airport, saw planes taking off and landing and saw some private planes of probably no Harz 4 recipients. Then began the beach promenade, with fantastically beautiful, almost deserted beaches. It was great fun to walk on this path, because I had already had a good time in the sea. But also asked myself why I don’t take this time on running days. At one stand I treated myself to an iced coffee and enjoyed it, because on the one hand it tasted great and on the other hand this atmosphere created a feel-good flair. To really kick ass, I bought another ice cream at the pub where I found great relief two days ago. I was about to get another slice of pizza because the rhyme “A pizza in Nice” kept going through my brain in an endless loop, but I managed to avoid that and I was already out of Nice.
If I was already on a mood high through Nice, now followed the absolute emotional tsunami, because I had never seen so many, so extraordinarily beautiful views, beaches, bays, small towns, as on this path. If I hadn’t remembered to breathe every now and then, I probably would have fallen over. I shot so many pictures with the phone that I have a hard time selecting, and annoyed me so much about the stupid dropped lens, because of course that would have been quite different pictures again. The way from Nice to Beaulieu sur Mer is a dream, you have to walk, not drive a car, motorcycle or bicycle. I saw 1,000 beautiful views and must have missed 10,000. Even the cyclists do not stop once they are rolling. It’s really a dream!
Then began the exhausting part of the day, the body had of course registered the nearly 30 km, even if it was too droned with feelings of happiness. There is no campground and for an alternative overnight stay, I found only one possibly suitable place on the map. A parking lot to enjoy the sea view. For from it a path led to the sea. Arrived at the parking lot, some vehicles were already there and one of them was preparing his supper. From the parking lot a staircase, great a staircase, led to the path. I left the Benpacker alone next to the trash cans and explored the trail. After the stairs came a few very suitable places to spend the night, as they were very flat, without slopes, but they were all completely crapped up and the white paper roses with brown flowers grew like weeds. So I went on, hoping to find something directly on the beach and indeed, a dream of a beach with many suitable places to sleep. Just as I was about to rejoice, I heard voices and saw five men sitting there somewhat hidden, bare-chested, indulging in one after the other. With that, the dream of the night on the beach was passe, because I did not know what kind of guys they were and did not dare. Top shit bottom crap, I thought, what do I do now? While I was walking back to the parking lot, I noticed the soft ground of the path covered with coarse wood chips, so I decided on the spur of the moment and without any reasonable counter thought to let. “I sleep on the way!” I dragged the car down the stairs, looked for a spot with some roadside and set up camp there for the night. The hammock would have been the choice of my desires, but there was only bushes, so much the choice on the bivy sack. Pad, sleeping pad, bivy sack, sleeping bag, pillow and bam, I lay on, or half on the way.
A jogger passed by, I greeted friendly and he a little puzzled, but also friendly back. It was a little dark, there came three Polish cyclists who, in order to sleep, went to the beach. I would have loved to go along, with three others, I would have dared. But my night camp was up and I was already lying in it. It was almost dark, suddenly a naked man stood next to me and said that here at night often some people walk along this path. I was no longer able to think, but the man duly took his garbage to the garbage cans in the parking lot and went back to the beach. So I conclude that this was probably one of the five Pichel brothers. But so decent, even if naked, I probably should not have had any concerns, but no matter, I was now lying there and stayed there.
It was warm and I was still sweating from the day, so I only half crawled into the bivy and the sleeping bag covered the rest. The bivy, was so to speak, the emergency version, if it rains, because rain was announced for the next day and clouds were also already there. I could have already slipped completely into the bivy, but as I said, I was too warm and my last night in it caused plenty of trepidation. It was getting dark, a patchy cloud cover was in the sky and I saw a star here and there behind it. The distant city lay before me in its romantic spotlight version.
To my left was some bushes and behind them, a little lower, was the Mediterranean Sea, which I could still see before it got dark. To the right of me, was something small bushes in which at night awakened life, I have no idea what it was, but it looked at me with wide eyes and when I moved, it snapped and did its thing noisily without me for the night. Behind the small bush was a pipe in which something flowed and sounded like a rushing brook. Behind the pipe was a wall on which the road was located, so about 5 m away from me and about 2m elevated the cars, buses and trucks drove behind a railing. Behind the road was the railroad track, which was regularly rolled over by a train and so that you can hear it all properly, behind the track a rock wall at least 100 meters high rises to the sky and directs the sounds emitted to its side to the sea, in this night also to me. Thank you, dear rock wall. But the absolute sleep killer was the decision not to slip completely into the bivy and pull the mosquito net and the total misconception that mosquitoes, only so to 22, max. 23:00 are active. No, I had to learn mosquitoes can, like me, party through if there is something to drink.