For any of you lovely readers that haven’t read my biking post…I am currently living in the middle of bloody nowhere. Like Antarctica sort of no where.
Well maybe not Antarctica…France actually…but house-in-the-middle-of-a-field-with-no-neighbours kind of nowhere.
It’s remote okay.
We woke up one morning and Rachel decided that she’d come down with a severe case of sun stroke (nausea, sickness, dizziness the lot). Our employers wouldn’t drive her and so we had to make a medical pilgrimage to the nearest pharmacy.
Two miles they said.
You’ll be there in no time they said.
It took us two and a half bloody hours to reach the little town.
After the last incident we decided to abandon the bikes and proceed bravely on by foot.
We started off trudging along quite happily with our two maps that joined in the middle.
And then the midday sun hit.
It was so hot.
I fashioned my top into a kind of crop top (which some lorry drivers on the main road apparently found extremely amusing…and some old grandmas not so much) and tried not to let my legs fall off in long black leggings.
Why I chose to wear them on a long walk in August is beyond me.
In the heat we made it as far as the main road that lead into the town.
Then the heavens opened.
So there we were…two sad looking, sweat-drenched Brits walking along in a tropical rainstorm with abso-bloody-lutely no clue where we were going.
We arrived at the pharmacy looking like a pair of drowned rats.
Thankfully the pharmacist didn’t bat an eyelid so we could be on our way with the medicine and make the long trek home.
This return trip involved many an expletive and laments about a) the lack of a car b) the lack of someone who can drive a car and c) whether we should have carried on walking to the nearest airport and then on to home (screw the luggage and the fact that the closest airport was an hour by car WE CAN DO IT).
We finally made it home by around 4pm absolutely knackered, and drugged Rachel up.
She was fine by morning, and lived to see another day in France.
Oh Rachel the things I do for you.
Moral of the story: don’t apply for summer jobs in remote locations.
In fact don’t apply for summer jobs abroad at all.
Why oh why can I be a normal teenager spend my summer channel surfing on the sofa?