Beach Last Saturday, III

Well, we’re back to the bus. Wasn’t that a pleasant day? They’re still reminding me to fasten my nonexistent seat belt.

And, also, hold on to the nonexistent poles. What exactly is this sign telling me? You weren’t allowed to stand, so what could you be holding on to?

Ooooh, yes! Christian Rage has a headquarters.

Why were there so many women and men in Olde Tyme garb? Why not?

The Montpellier Tourist Train driver remained impassive.

Speaking of the MTT, I think they’ve had to change their route so now they pass directly below my bedroom window at least once a day. I do enjoy the people oohing and ahhing, though.

It appears this man was staring at my bosom.

Everyone was having such a good time.