Ne regardez jamais un cheval de don dans la bouche!
My eyes struggle with the contrast as we loose the brilliant Spanish sunshine and ride down onto the car deck. It's even hotter down here than it is on the dock!
I take a broad arc of deck and line the GS perfectly (if i do say so myself) between the anchor cables. I kick the bike onto its side stand and leave SWMBO in charge as i go hunting for cushions and ratchet straps.
I return with said equipment and begin to secure my bike to the deck.
"Hey, Bumble Bee" a French deck hand is in my face. I'm guessing he's referring to the colour of my bike.
"Non, non- Bumble bee!" WTF is up with this guy? I know how to operate a ratchet strap??.
My obviously classic English response is to go straight onto the defensive, (never can be sure, especially with the French). My face betrays my feelings,(Agincourt) which leaves Pierre smiling and talking (French bollocks) under his breath- (and me feeling like i'd wished i'd listened to my French teacher all those years ago!). MERDE!!!!
He points at my bike and tell's me in very basic English that its gonna be rough. He points at the side stand " Non- very rough"
I smile at him, in his own gallic way Pierre's looking out for me.
I put the bike on its centre stand and Pierre straps a large incontinence cushion over the seat. Nice bloke Pierre, even obliges with a photo. I unstrap the stuff sack and take a last look at the bike as happy in the knowledge that I've done my bit towards entente cordiale.