Day 10 - Tequila sunset

Set off early (late) and staggered around like pissed idiots for a couple of hours. Then took a leisurely cruise up the Bordeaux coast.
It's a lovely place, furnished with pine trees and lots of sand, but this time of year a bit dead and a bit cold (I say cold, but really 15-16 degrees is OK by English stds)
We didn't realise, but it is Bank holiday and there is no one around, not even petrol pump attendants.

Luckily in France lots of fuel stations have adopted the old pay by card doobrey. Had we been in Spain, we would have been pissing in our tanks by now.
Headed up to Mimizan, all around, the trees are snapped off at 6 metres.....what the hell happened here?
Answers on a postcard please, but its weird, driving for like 20 miles or so and all of the trees and some of the concrete pylons are like this, all snapped off facing the same way. Hurricane?

So we found a place with some nice trees next to the beach and time to hammock up.
We've got our tequila beer, this must be the best discovery to the drinking man. Ever
Desperado's.
If you see it, buy it.
it is so good, it will give you big biceps, it will get you laid........and if you're a girl, it'll give you big boobs and get you laid. It is that good.
We also had Kronenburg (limp)
I sat down and thought....hmm my bike looks cool, so I took a photo of it where it stood.
It promptly fell over.

We (as usual) got mashed and had a fire, made from tree resin this time.
We somehow gassed ourselves on the fire.
Glenda was blowing through a bit of tube to get the fire raging and it was popping and banging like a guddun.
Suddenly it was like a gun going off and he was holding his eye.
"fkin spark went in my eye" he started bleating.
"Bloody mincer, give me the tube, go and sort your eye out you fag" was pretty much my response and I started blowing.
It was popping and banging like a guddun.
Suddenly it was like a gun going off and I was holding my eye.

"Fkin spark went in my eye" I started bleating.
"Bloody mincer, give me the tube, go and sort your eye out you fag" was pretty much his response.

I swear, my injury was worse than his.
I had to resort to holding my beer bottle to my eye, it was the only way to take the pain away.

Don't play with fire girls...............

Glen stopped drinking early for some reason ( he is a big gayer)

Then I had a bit of a moment.

It started with a bit of a bowel movement, which signalled 'get to the bog'
Off I went in the darkness, suddenly the pain was BIG
the Bog was lit up like a night club, but it must have been 300 yards away.
The pain got worse and suddenly I was doubled over
oh god...............I'm gonna crap myselfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff
shuffle in a half shuffle half limp to the bog with my stomach feeling like it has been ripped out.
Bloody hell I'm dying.
Get to the bog, 1---2---3 bog doors locked.......big A4 sized signs on there saying "FERME"
Jesus, I'm dying.......the last in the row of 4 is open.

God save me......

The pain by now is something I will remember till the day I die.

.
.
.
There is no bog roll.




THERE IS NO BLOODY BOG ROLL!


What can you do in a situation like this.
You are gonna die from poo pain.
Or go and don't wipe.

You have 2 choices.

I chose the third.



The A4 'ferme' signs held the answer, swiftly ripped off the doors and ............................


My life saved.

But folding A4 makes for some sharp corners.