64 km/40 miles
Breakfast was a collection of croissants and such that we’d picked up at the supermarket the day before. They came in a beaten up marked down box to clear them from the store. Five minutes in the oven and they came out great. There was a surprise in the box. A piece of tuna pizza which smelled lovely after sitting on the counter all night.
Our plans for time at the track were variable and we did consider getting a taxi or an Uber so that beers could be had. Not having tickets, we were unsure as to whether we could get in and whether arriving by cab would be a waste of money. Martyn and I decided to ride out and pick up the tickets if they were available.
Since we were there, we decided to head in and check out the track and the practice that was going on. The track has head the Austin treatment and is all blinged up for F1 racing. Leaving the track was a bit of a challenge. They scan you in and out. The woman who head sold us the tickets had scanned them all in by mistake. The guard on the way out did not want to scan them all out. With a huff and French shrug, he relented and scanned them out.
The lads had gone down to the beach to see the local sites and have a wander around. They dropped us a pin and we headed that way with a couple of detours for missed/impossible turns in one of the local villages. We found them propping up the promenade like good Englishmen should.
Dinner was steak or chicken kebabs and sausages. It was of course washed down with some 51 pastis, the local Bandol rosé and beer