The Intergalactic Cowboy

Today, I took a train from Nice up into the french maritime alpes to a village called Plan du Var. Nice has a special train station for trains that head north. The train was the size of a greyhound bus and it rocked back and forth for the entire trip. The alps here are not tipped with ice but are forrested and farmed upon terraces. The scenery is unfortunately spoiled by occasional factories and chemical plants.

The village of Plan du Var is about four blocks long. There are two proper restaurants, one boulangerie and one coffee shop. The restaurant employees fortunately speak a little English, because they are unable to understand my French for some reason…

I grabbed a real estate magazine and ate a leasurely lunch and dessert here in the lovely village of Plan du Var. After paying my bill, I strolled to the train station and patiently awaited the 1:40 train to Nice. In the woods, across the train tracks from me, a pack of dogs was howling. Wait a minute; don’t they have wolves in France ? Could this be a pack of wolves howling ? Little did I know that this howling was the audio soundtrack to the next five hours of my life. The events of the remainder of the afternoon were so traumatic that they deserve a diary entry of their very on. I was about to experience the most horrific travel experience of my life !
Get ready,
I.C.