Estate Living Magazine The Slow Movement - Issue 39 March 2019 | Page 62

G O O D
Never mind that St Tropez was a good 150 kilometres away and
I only had a vague idea of how to get there; it was on the coast, I
was on a coastal road, surely I would end up there … eventually.
With that settled, I focused on the bike and the road ahead.
What a road, what a bike! The ribbon of tarmac ran on, hugging
itself to the curves of the coast, mountains to my right and the
ocean – blue and perfect – rushing past on my left. The Enfield
came into its own on those stretches, leaning willingly with me
into the corners and then straightening up and accelerating
out into the sunshine and the bliss that lay beyond. She was
flirting with me, winking at me and hinting at the love affair
that lay ahead. I was falling more and more for her with each
passing kilometre.
It’s nearing eleven o’clock by the time we reach Juan-les-
Pins. The streets and cafés are jammed with locals and
L I F E