Harry and Tony's vacation makes an unusual deviation! - Chapter Three

The next few hours at the English pub in Port Grimaud, known as Monroes - named after the actress -  were what could be called, organized chaos.
     Harry and Tony hoped beyond measure after a lengthy drive south to the Mediterranean, they would not only have the small three-story house to themselves for a week, but the peace and quiet that went with it.
     The 'lady of the dashboard', nicknamed Miss Madam, was taking a rest from her usual duties. The sat/nav was installed in Harry's black Mercedes car to assist them, specially for their extended tour of the south of France and beyond. A decision was agreed upon earlier by the two elderly friends, to switch her off abruptly; all it took was a knowing glance from each other. Hence Miss Madam had become argumentative, stroppy and difficult to manage. So there was only one choice in the matter, and that was to end the constant moaning protestations emitting from the dashboard. Harry and Tony hoped to relax in a more congenial atmosphere, driving on towards the Mediterranean coastline and the yachting fraternity of Port Grimaud, even though neither had ever sailed a boat in their  lives. But they had other fish to fry.
     Harry had driven them south from the so-called debacle of Avignon, where it became impossible to find their hotel amongst narrow one-way streets, with no parking imminent. He soon remembered how stressful the experience was, taking an hour looking for their hotel, with no joy at the end of it. He never wished to repeat the experience either. The weather was hot, not helping their tempers. Miss Madam had abandoned them in their hour of need, repeating the same line - 'you have reached your destination!'
      'Like heck we have,' replied Tony, scowling towards the dashboard.
      So it was necessary they continue on toward the coast, having no choice in the matter, looking forward to spending a peaceful week in a friend's house.
     But it wasn't to be.    
     The house, unbeknown to them, was full of people they hardly knew and now they were to visit the English pub - their favourite - with an entourage of adults varying in ages, plus two children!
     Harry drove Christine and her new husband Paul along with Tony, down the narrow road over the bridge leading to Monroe's - Christine being the ex-wife of a friend of Tony's and neither knew her all that well, nor expected the house to be so full of people when they arrived - although they were not expected until a few days later. 
      In the following car were Vanessa and husband George, their two children, Phillip thirteen, Louis ten, and Vanessa's father Luca, Italian by birth.
     They all trooped into Monroe's pub, a short distance by car from the house, where Tony and Harry would automatically gravitate toward the bar. The rest of the party headed to one of the outside tables, all eager to try another of Monroe's excellent pizzas.
       Tony began groaning from somewhere deep down in his chest, sounding like a dog growling having been denied his bone. As they walked through the doors leading to the bar area, Harry hardly dare glance over at his friend's colourful face, which by now was turning a peculiar shade of purple - then stopped abruptly, remembering they had children with them. 'Oh,' he thought, 'so that's what's wrong with Tony!'
     All the others had arranged themselves neatly around a large table, the two friends backtracking to sit with them while they chose what they wanted to drink - assuming food would be ordered later.
     Harry and Tony, being the best of friends for many years, sometimes travelled together during their retirement, staying on previous occasions in Port Grimaud. They both knew the barmaid well in Monroe's pub, having danced the night away with her during earlier holidays. The beer was always good and so was the company. But somehow it wasn't the same this time. Perhaps it was because they were accompanied by these people who were almost complete strangers, which didn't lift their spirits in the slightest.
     Hoping she was still on duty after the last time they visited, where both had fallen instantly in love with Katy - pronounced 'Katee' - looked longingly over toward the bar area for a glimpse of her. Katy was not young, but blessed with a cheery face, dimples set deep in rosy cheeks resembling ripe cherries, dark hair and eyes that flashed with fun and merriment - a Sicilian Norman by birth, who always made them feel welcome. Both men sighed silently, trying desperately to put on a brave face, but failing dismally.
     The town was tucked into a bay, with a curving beach, each house possessing its own jetty and yacht of varying sizes. Port Grimaud was a sailer's paradise, but Tony in particular, always found other things to do other than sailing, being a good golfer. Harry was interested in medieval history and promised himself he'd begin writing his book. Being an expert in procrastination, wondered if indeed, it would ever get written. They'd looked forward to this vacation, relishing the opportunities there would be in visiting this part of France, on the Cote d'Azur. 
     'What now?' Harry said, in a low whisper, before they reached the others, who by now were all seated, chattering amongst themselves. 'Do we treat them all to a round of drinks, or...,'
     'I really don't know dear boy,' answered Tony hurriedly in low tones. 'Let's wait and see what happens first, eh?' Harry was inclined to sit on his hands a bit anyway, the thought of shouting the first round of drinks, not really appealing to him, although he was incredibly generous most of the time. Both men were more than ready for a beer, usually ordering two Kilkenny's - their favourite. So they bided their time to see what would happen next.
     Tony was not in the happiest of moods, having to share their first evening with what appeared as a gaggle of geese, all chattering at once. The thought of any peace and quiet had gone clean out of the window.
     It wasn't time before they found out.
     'Oh do come and sit with us here,' suggested Christine, patting the chair beside her, not looking all that enthusiastic. Both men were feeling the same, trying not to display their present mood. The two young boys were beginning to argue who was to hold the drinks menu, as they didn't appear to be in abundance.  
     'Let me,' cried Louis, the younger of the two, aged ten. I'm the youngest and I should be first.' He made a grab for the menu from under his mother's nose, who was busy confiding with her husband George.
     'But you can't manage it like I can,' replied his older brother,' puffing out his chest, trying to look important. Thirteen was an age when boys were beginning to feel very grown up, wanting to take control of matters. Phillip almost snatched the menu from Louis, when their mother Vanessa, Christine's step daughter, leaned over to intervene.
     'Now now you two. Try and work things out amicably.'
     'What's amicably?' asked Louis, gazing up at his mother with a curios look on his face, eyebrows almost knitting together.
     'It's what you two should be demonstrating,' replied their mother.
     'But I still don't know what it means,' frowned Louis, not wishing to give up yet. 'I want to know.'
     His older brother sighed, about to try and explain, when Tony and Harry reluctantly sat down nearby. Phillip immediately forgot all about the explanation, feeling he was off the hook.
     Paul, Christine's second husband, who had been quiet, attempted to hush them tactfully, while their grandfather Luca, burst forth with a string of Italian words, gesticulating toward their mother, Vanessa.
     Tony was almost beside himself by now and rose to visit the bar to order a beer for himself and Harry. He managed to make himself heard against the din of everyone talking at once. 'Would anyone else like a drink?' he asked quietly, hoping no one had heard. Instantly five hands rose and all he could do was ask each one individually, before catching the eye of Katy, mercifully. She swept over to their table, a cheerful smile on her face and a wink for both friends as they noticed her deep cleavage when she bent down to chat briefly with the two boys.
     'Qu est-ce-que vous voulez boire mes chers?' 
     'What did she say?' asked Luca, whose French not being up to scratch.
     'She wants to know what we want to drink,' replied Harry. His French was much improved after vising France many times.
     After the drinks were brought, the chattering continued, now sounding like a flock of gulls fighting over a fish catch. Soon there was uproar over the type of pizzas everyone wanted. Harry looked sideways at Tony, briefly rolling his eyes. He knew instantly what was going on in his friend's mind, but for now, there was nothing they could do.
     As the evening drew on, Christine announced they were all staying in the house another two days. A faint deep growl sounded in Tony's lower regions, like a volcano about to erupt, knowing it would be unbearable to tolerate this for much longer, let alone two more days. The colour of his face was again changing from red to purple. He whispered to Harry sitting next to him. 'What now dear boy? I'm for baling out. How about you?'
     'That suits me fine,' answered Harry, keeping his voice low. 'But where do we stay now? Nothing has been planned.' There was a certain amount of anguish in his voice.
     They both rose at the same time, excusing themselves, before heading to the bar for a much needed discussion. It wasn't long before all their problems had been answered. Katy leaned over the bar with a warm smile on her lovely face, a twinkle in her eye after overhearing what the two friends had been discussing.
     'I have a spare room with twin beds, if that would help,' she offered. 'I live in the hilltop village of Grimaud, not far from here.'
     Tony beamed instantly, his present mood fading quickly. He didn't need to consult Harry, he knew what his friend would be thinking. So with an elegant gesture, resembling a swashbuckling buccaneer, answered. 'Why thank you dear lady, we'd be delighted if it's no trouble.'
     'No trouble at all gentlemen. When may I expect you - tonight?'
     Harry was impressed with the swift decision Tony had made on their behalf. 'I think tonight would be a little soon. We need time to inform everyone,' he replied, nodding toward the outside table where the others were gathered. He turned back to Katy who was leaning over the bar voluptuously. 'How about tomorrow night?'
     'Ce est genial!' Katy smiled nodding her head, then proceeded to inform them how to find her place.
     'No problem with that,' said Harry, his confidence getting the better of him. 'We have a sat/nav, don't we Tony?'
     'Errr... yes,' he mused, remembering the problems they'd had with Miss Madam.
     'It's not too difficult,' Katy answered, wiping the wooden bench-top of the bar with a cloth.
     After much bantering over pizzas, the adults drinking the last of their wine and the two boys quiet for once, it was time to return to the three story house for the night. Harry drove carefully and upon arrival, accompanied Tony as they plodded up two flights of stairs, to a room where they were to share a double bed, much to their annoyance.
     'I'm looking forward to twin beds for the next two nights,' he grumbled, not looking forward to a night spent with Tony.
     'Anything would have to be better than this' replied Tony, puffing as they reached the second floor at the top of the house. He always preferred a light left on somewhere, not relishing the dark since he was a young lad. But Harry was dead against it, preferring to try and block out the lights shining across the water, seeping through the windows.  They needed to be open as the weather was still very warm, almost balmy.
     An hour later after a brief slumber, Tony needed to use the bathroom. He rose and toddled toward the door-less room in the dark, before Harry awoke with a start when an enormous crash sounded somewhere in the room.
     'Damn, blast and double bugger!'
     'What on earth's the matter?' enquired Harry, instantly woken by the loud crashing, wondering what the devil was going on.
     'Help me up will you?' pleaded a voice from out of the darkness. Tony had tripped over one of their suitcases, groaning that every bone in his body had been broken. 'It's all your fault!' he continued. 'I hate the dark - you know that. Now help me up.'
     'Where on earth are you?' Harry stumbled out of the bed they were sharing for a night.
     'Over here you fool! Where else would I be?'
     'Alright, I'm coming...' said Harry trying to find the light switch.
     Another hour or two passed as both friends managed to get a little more sleep, with Harry snoring loudly. The mattress they slept on tendered to dip in the centre and soon Tony, while still fast asleep, rolled toward Harry, who woke again with the feeling of a half naked man beside him. Although well into his seventies, Harry shot out of bed, momentarily shocked. Rummaging around, he found a large bolster cushion and promptly placed it between himself and Tony, wondering if it was safe to return to his side of the bed.
     Mercifully, a new day dawned, warm and still on the scene outside. Boats bobbed about in a gentle breeze, their masts waving to and fro as their sheets jangled against them, emitting a soft hum through the late summer day.
     After explanations and brief packing, the men were on their way to Katy's place for two nights. She lived high on the hill of Grimaud, a sleepy old village dominated by the eleventh century castle, an old church and narrow streets. It overlooked grape vines in the valley below, not far from the Gulf of St. Tropez and the shimmering French Riviera. The village had a long history which captured Harry's interest.
     The journey up the slope of the hill leading to the old village, appeared straight forward for Miss Madam to follow. The instructions Harry gave her lead them in the right direction - or so they thought. Both men had visited Grimaud before, but only a small part of the village where they had eaten lunch in small cafe's or restaurants, indulging in their favourite beer. A small train took visiting passengers from Port Grimaud, depositing them approximately in the village centre. Now it was necessary to follow Miss Madam's instructions, in order to find where Katy lived, but soon realized they were lost yet again.
     'What now?' sighed Tony, feeling hot and bothered, even with the air conditioning on in the car. 'Don't tell me Miss Madam is lost. Oh... no, not again! How can that happen?'
     'I'm not lost!' was the pert reply coming from the dashboard area.
     'Oh yes you are!' Harry replied. 'Can't rely on you for a moment, can we?' he groaned.
     'It's not my fault!'
     Miss Madam was becoming her usual stroppy self again.
     'Then who's fault is it?' retorted Tony, looking exasperated. 'It's now we need you. How about some plain and simple directions, eh?' He was beginning to wave his arms about, glancing over at Harry, whose face was twisted in a confused grimace. He shrugged his shoulders, looking at the address Katy had written down for them.
     After another hour of confused directions from Miss Madam leading them nowhere in particular, announcing the usual 'you have reached your destination' line, both Tony and Harry were thoroughly fed up, deciding reluctantly, it was time they abandoned their plans.
     They headed back down the hill toward the coast, to some form of civilization and hopefully a hotel, where it was essential there were two rooms available.
     'Ohhh... to have a room to myself,' muttered Harry.
     'Amen to that!' replied Tony with a grin.
    
    
     

When Spring comes...

'Did you hear that?' said a blackbird.
     'Hear what?' asked the robin.
     'That quick twittering and chirping. It's coming from that bush over there,' the blackbird replied, continuing to peck between freshly mown grass for food.
     'Ah yes...' interrupted the old black crow, 'I heard it too. It's rather nice,' he croaked, amidst swaying branches of a half dead tree, flapping his outstretched wings.
     The chattering and chirping was endless; before a flash of blue tails appeared along a twiggy bush low down, alongside a narrow path of vegetation.
     'Then it must be Spring,' replied the robin, hopping across the ground, from side to side, as if in a merry dance.
     The blackbird looked down from where he had flown high in a treetop, bursting forth with vivid green leaves of Spring's adornment.
     'Sing... sing to the hilltops, to the newly flowered daffodils, to the sunbeams emerging from the eastern sky,' he cried. 'Sing to all who may hear.'
     He began  a loud, almost constant whistling.
     The robin looked up at the blackbird, singing across the sweet-smelling grass toward rosy-fingered dawn.
     'But no one will hear us,' replied the robin, all forlorn.
     'I will said the blind man, sitting on a seat nearby. 'I cannot see, but I will hear your song.
     'Oh!' said the robin with glee. 'Then I'll begin.'

  

    

Harry and Tony's vacation continues - on a knife-edge! - Chapter Two

Two gentlemen, the best of friends for years and both a little portly in appearance, had reluctantly vacated the hotel with the black and silver walls in the corridors, lift still nowhere to be seen, and pulled their suitcases to the car park alongside an enormous castle with vast curtain walls, medieval towers - and a history harking back to Roman times.
     Tony didn't have strong objections about continuing on, but Harry, with his love of all things medieval, having enjoyed visiting the magnificence of Carcassonne with more than a little relish, felt sorry they were leaving.
     'Onward and upward, eh old friend?' remarked Tony. 
     He packed the last of the bags into the boot of the black Mercedes, while Harry began giving Miss Madam, the satellite navigation,  her marching orders for the day. They had named her that as she always sounded so bossy.
     'Hey, not so much of the old, thank you. Where're still standing, aren't we?'
     Harry was muttering, while trying to concentrate on the various dials and switches near the dashboard. He had barely become accustomed to the complex buttons and method of programming the sat/nav, before leaving England. It wasn't easy to familiarize himself with such up to date technology at his age. A lengthy tour in the south of France and what lay beyond for them to explore, had been planned for some time. Now they were well into retirement, not quite in their dotage, were determined to enjoy 'what lay over the next hill.'
    
But that was all in the past. They had left Carcassonne behind and the not-to-be-repeated experience of going round and round in circles, looking for their hotel in Avignon, amidst narrow medieval streets.  Finally they had to abort their three night stay, as Miss Madam had thrown up her hands in despair, abandoning them when they most needed her.
     Tony looked out of the window of the car as they sped along an easy main road for driving, heading to the coast of the Mediterranean, and laughed.
     'I hope we don't have to go through that again!'
     'Through what?' came a voice from the dashboard.'
     Harry quickly glanced over at Tony, his mouth contorting in a grimace as it moved from side to side.
     'Here we go. She's off again!'
     'I heard that!' replied Miss Madam.
     'You were supposed to!' Tony rolled his eyes at Harry with a slight shake of the head.
     A few kilometers on, there came a crisp female command.
     'At the next roundabout, take the third exit'. Then repeated soon after. 'Take the third exit at the roundabout.
     'I wonder what would happen if I took the second exit, eh? That would confuse her, wouldn't it?' Harry said, sorely tempted.
     'I'd find you,' came the reply. 'You can't lose me that easily!'
     'Ho ho!' cried Tony, becoming defiant. He looked over at Harry who was trying to concentrate on his driving.
     'Can't we?' he said with a grin, still looking at Harry, before pulling a face. 
     'You can try, but you may come off second best,' retorted Miss Madam, sharply.
     Harry just continued driving, the road up ahead becoming more of a challenge.
     'You win for now,' he sighed, turning the car away from an oncoming French driver, far too close to the middle of the road.
     'I thought you'd see sense,' came the reply.
     'Hey ho..., muttered Tony, clinging firmly to his seat, as Harry avoided another French driver.

After a brief discussion and while still on a main road, Harry pulled into a much needed Aire de Service, where they could eat lunch, and rest a while. Driving in France on major roads with these constant Aires, made life much easier.
     They bought some freshly made baguettes and coffee and sat down at a table in the restaurant.
     'Ah, that's better!' sighed Harry after taking the first few sips of his coffee. 'We've been making good time I suppose. Not that we are in any hurry. Should be at the coast by this afternoon.'
     'Yeah, the weather has been kind. Not much rain about, is there?' remarked Tony, taking a large bite of his chicken-filled baguette, relishing its chewy crust texture.
     'Nope! Long may it continue,' replied Harry.
     He gazed out of the window, then settled into his seat a bit more. "I'm looking forward to this next stage of our journey,' he continued. 'Always enjoyed the Med myself and we've both stayed in Port Grimaud before. As ever, it's most enjoyable - although by the sea where some people get bored, there's plenty to do and places to see from there.'
     'I'm with you there, dear boy. Perhaps we could get that little train up to Grimaud again. Wonder if it's still running?' Tony took the last bite of his baguette, wiping his mouth on a serviette.
     'Hope so,' said Harry with a glazed look in his grey eyes, as if reminiscing. 'I wouldn't fancy walking up there - much too steep. Nice little place though - all those narrow streets and an old church. Do you remember that very small lunch place with the patisserie last time? The weather was great then too. We sat outside and ate, enjoying a nice cold beer with our meal.'
     'I do indeed,' replied Tony. Pretty waitress who served us. Wonder if she's still there?'
     Tony was a charmer, with a roving eye, who always noticed attractive women around him or nearby. He had no trouble chatting them up, but was respectful too, if one was accompanied by a husband. He was not only charming, but interesting and lovable. Harry was kind, thoughtful, generous.
     By now it was time to be on their way again, both rising from the table a little stiff in the legs and hips. They returned to the car which had heated up in the sun during their absence.
     'Whew! It stuffy in here,' cried Harry, opening the driver's door and poking his head inside. 'The seats are as hot as hades.'
     'I'm almost dead in this hell hole!' came a voice sounding none too pleasant. Miss Madam began complaining the moment the car doors were open.
     'Do you realize how hot it can get with all the windows shut?' the voice continued.
     'It's her again!' whispered Tony, looking over to where Harry was stripping off a layer or two.
     'Take no notice. She'll soon calm down after this bout of stroppiness.  I'll turn on the air conditioning the moment we are underway.'
     'A person could die in this heat,' Miss Madam uttered.
     'But you aren't a real person, are you?'
     Tony was settling into his seat again.
     'That's what you think!' replied Miss Madam, with aggression in her voice.
     'I wonder if we should turn her off?' replied Harry in low tones. 'Think I know the way anyhow.'
     'Oh no you don't! You know you'll get lost.'
     'I most certainly will not!' replied Harry, beginning to get fed up. He made short work of switching off the complaining sat/nav.
     'Ahh...! Peace at last!' he sighed with satisfaction, sweeping out of the car park of the Aire. 
     'I'm with you there dear boy,' Tony agreed.

Some time later, they reached the edge of the Mediterranean, a sparkling deep blue sight that met their eyes, giving quiet contemplation of their stay here. It was to be in a three story fisherman's type, narrow, semi-detached house. Why they were so-called neither was quite sure, but Port Grimaud was a series of mainly detached and semi-detached two and three story houses, most possessing a quaintness about them; each painted in pastel or ochre type colours - none garish or unacceptable upon the eye of the beholder. At the entrance, a security gate keeper had to wave them through after first checking their identification. Later they were to receive a remote control to open the barriers each time they needed to enter or exit.
     The houses wound around small roads, each with its small garden and jetty for mooring yachts - both large and small. Some houses had their own car parking space, whereas Harry needed to park a short distance from the house they were to stay in - on loan for a week. 
     He drew up outside the house to unload the bags, enjoying the anticipation of being able to stay put for a while, together with the luxury of not needing to seek out hotels. Their surroundings would be peaceful and quiet, doing exactly what they wanted. Harry thought he might even begin on his novel. Something he had procrastinated over far too long.
     'Don't know about you Tony,' said Harry, sniffing the sea air coming straight off the nearby beach, 'but I'm ready for a nice cold beer soon. What do you think?'
     Tony stretched his legs, flexing his right hip, which often gave him trouble over long distances sitting in one place.
     'How about Monroe's?' he replied with a grin. I guess it's still there. We'll soon find out, won't we?'
     'Right then! Monroes it is,' confirmed Harry, walking to the front door, painted pale blue.
     'I suppose we should walk,' remarked Tony, not at all convinced.
     'Perhaps another evening. I know we haven't had much exercise today, but...'
     He didn't finish what he was saying, for when they entered the living area, were confronted with several heads turning in their direction.  The house was not empty as they'd expected, but occupied by several people not exactly known to them.
     A dark haired lady approached them, her hand extended in a greeting.
     'Hello there. My name is Christine. And you must be Harry and Tony. You were expected, but not for a few days yet.'
     'Oh dear!' said Tony aloud, trying to smile through his thoughts.  'That's because we didn't stay in Avignon I suppose, for those three nights as planned. I'm awfully sorry about this, as we naturally expected the house to be empty. Neither of us gave it another thought.'
     'Not to worry,' shrugged Christine, trying to appear gracious.
     Harry glanced quickly at Tony, frowning slightly, not knowing what to say next.
     Their vacation was hanging on a knife-edge. Was this the end of the world? What to do now.
     'Perhaps we could find a hotel for a few days,' suggested Harry hesitantly, not really convinced he was in favour of the idea.
     'That won't be necessary,' Christine said, walking toward Harry to grasp his hand. 'I'm sure we can accommodate you. The room at the top on the second floor is still available, if you don't mind sharing a double bed.'
     'Hmmm...' muttered Tony under his breath, remembering the last time he had to sleep in the same bed as Harry. 
     'Oh God!' thought Harry. 'No..., anything but that,' but quickly remembered his manners.
     'Errr, it's very good of you Christine..., I'm Harry by the way, and this gentleman,' he added nudging his friend, 'is Tony.'
     At that moment, Tony stepped into the breach, extending his hand with a little bow of courtesy to Christine.
     'Delighted to meet such an attractive lady. It's very good of you to allow us to stay, as we wouldn't want to intrude in the slightest.'
     'Not at all!' replied Christine. 'That's settled then. Besides we are all leaving tomorrow afternoon anyway. I've brought a few family members down for the weekend.'
     She twisted on the spot, as if executing a graceful dance step, her dark hair and eyes flashing briefly, indicating the turned heads still fixed on the new arrivals.
     Christine faced Harry again.
     'You are most welcome to the top floor and you might wish to take your bags up.'
     Harry hesitated first, before answering.
     'Thanks..., It's most gracious of you.'
     He indicated to Tony to grab the bags, then joined him to help, beginning to plod up two flights of stairs.
     Christine called out - 'we can all get acquainted when you are settled in.'
     'Settled in,' muttered Harry under his breath, beginning on the last few of steps at the top of the house. 'And I have to sleep with Tony...!'
     'Good God man! It's not as bad as all that!'
     Tony reached the top of the stairs soon after Harry, a little puffed. 
     'Isn't it? Don't you remember what happened last time?'
     'When was that then?' asked Tony puzzled, his tired brain mal-functioning.
     'Firstly, it was the smallest double bed I've ever slept in, and secondly, you slept entirely naked and kept rolling toward me. That's bad enough isn't it?' Harry was not holding back any of the details of his ordeal.
     'Awe...,' said Tony, somewhat offended. 'But you snored loudly the whole night! What could be worse than that, eh my good man?'
     'I did not!' replied Harry indignant at the thought - but thinking to let the matter lie for now, beginning to unpack.
     'Oh well,' sighed Tony with a brief shrug. 'At least we're able to stay. Probably better than another hotel.'
     'I'm not so sure,' whimpered Harry, still not entirely convinced - then suddenly cheered up.  'Come on Tony, let's try and make a go of it and bugger off to the pub. What do think?'
     'I'm with you there old friend. But we must be sociable first. As soon as we are a little organized, we can get the introductions over with, then take the car to Monroe's pub. It's always been my favourite and we might be able to get some free wifi for these contraptions,' he said, nodding at the latest mobile phones that had been thrown haphazardly onto their one and only bed.
     Not only had they had the latest satellite navigation gizmo installed in Harry's black Mercedes, but had managed to come to terms with advanced mobile phones. They both had family and friends back home they wished to contact from time to time, and had been tutored by young family members on the ways and wherefores of operating them. At first they were totally confused and bamboozled by the amazing new technology, but slowly came to terms with it, marveling at the way technology has advanced in a relative short time.
     'Well I'm ready,' announced Harry, placing the last of his shirts to one side of the cupboard.
     'Me too,' replied Tony. 'Let's get going. Onward and downward eh!'
     They both trudged down to the ground floor of the narrow, but very pleasant house;  passing other bedrooms and bathrooms on their way.  Arriving near the small kitchen, then immediately entering the lounge area, appeared full of people. There were two sliding doors from this room, leading out onto a patio, surrounded by a hint of a garden. At the edge of the garden, a path led through a gate onto a jetty, where a yacht was moored bobbing in a gentle breeze, sleek and elegant, its mast tall against a darkening sky of deep blue and grey amassing clouds.
     'Ah, there you are!' said Christine, rising up from one of the lounging chairs. She was in hers sixties and the ex wife of another of Tony's best friends - the wife he'd never met before. She had remarried after their amicable separation and went to live in France permanently.
     'Let me introduce you to Paul. We've been married quite a while now,' she said pleasantly.
     Both Tony and Harry stepped forward to shake his hand, before being introduced to Christine's step daughter and step son in law.
    'And these two are Vanessa and her husband George,' she added indicating the two smiling family members, who also briefly shook the hands of Tony and Harry.
     Vanessa kept the introductions going until everyone knew everyone else. Tony and Harry shook hands with them all, trying to be polite and gracious, although they both wished them all gone, so they could do what was planned. But in fact realized, they were the intruders.
     Next came Vanessa's father Luca, who originated from Italy with the same dark eyes and olive skin.
     Last were Christine's step daughter's children, Philip thirteen and Louis ten years of age, who barely smiled in return.  
     At the end of all the introductions and a certain amount of polite conversation, Harry took the bull by the horns and mentioned they were on their way to the English pub, they all knew as Monroe's.
     'Oh excellent!' announced Christine, beaming with delight. 'We'll all go! The pizza's there are to die for. I'm sure the boys, us included, would love one. We could all go together,' she reassured everyone.
     Harry could almost hear the groans emitting from Tony's throat. He tried hard to smile at the expectant faces.
     'A grand idea!' he said, conjuring up the enthusiasm with great difficulty.
     'That's put a spanner in the works,' muttered Tony as they prepared for a much larger gathering at the pub than first thought.
    

    

  

    
    
    
    
    
        
    

    
    

I, in my informative years...

To arrive at this age, which is no age at all, is not only from counting the years, but all that has gone before and is yet to come.
     The heart continues to beat - well at least it does so for now, and I, perhaps now in my more informative years, must embrace each day, every hour and moment, with an exuberance that knows no bounds or limitations, no more longings for everything I can't have, nor wish for anymore.
     For I have reached a pinnacle where I can still jump puddles - wander to peer over the next hill - love life for all it presents - fly across seas then peering down at rivers, silvery with oncoming night - towns and villages aglow with lights - mountains and valleys - deserts with only sand.
     There is a whole world at your fingertips, waiting.
     Why must it wait? If you see the world in a grain of sand, don't let it slip through your fingers. There shall be no more forgotten mornings when old age creeps upon me, as I am informed of the years that have passed me by and still yet to come. I count no more birthdays, as they are meaningless with all that life may land at my feet.
     Where flowers bloom bright and lovely in meadows, mountains are clad with soft autumn mists, rain falls upon roses, and winter shrouds me in frosts - for that's where you'll find me, happy, still free.

Harry and Tony take a vacation - with Miss Madam! - Chapter One

 The air was spiced like cinnamon; warm, inviting, balmy, where the lark ceased to grace above a warm earthiness of lush summer grass, but there was a hint of exotic flowers growing in gardens of abundance in this coastal haven on the edge of France.  
     Harry sniffed at it, enticing his senses, sending them reeling. He glanced over at Tony, who was enjoying a different sort of cocktail from any he'd ever indulged in, sending his senses reeling, but in a very different way to Harry's. He rolled his eyes and grinned.
     'Good God! What's this I've been given eh, dear boy? It's enough to blow your head off!' Then raised his eyebrows with a chuckle. 
     Harry settled back comfortably in an old squashy leather chair near the bar, overlooking a delicious looking sandy beach with emerald clear water.  Beautiful girls were sprawled out on towels, captivating, exquisite, brown as berries, wearing nothing more than what appeared to ageing eyes, as their undergarments.
     He picked up his beer cold as ice, sipping its flavour, savouring the experience, which tasted hoppy with liveliness and a hint of fruit. 
     Not far away was a small island, attached to the mainland by a foot bridge, where couples strolled hand-in-hand; its vegetation mellow in the soft evening glow of early autumn. The sea turned turquoise, then silvery, as the sun dipped its rays into the sea, lapping gently, waves almost nondescript upon pale golden sand, stretching for miles.
     'Hmmm,' Harry uttered contentedly. 'This is the life,' before adding, 'I wonder if she's gone to bed yet.'
     'Who?' asked Tony.
    'You know who. Her, of course!'
     'Who's her?' Tony half turned from the delightful spectacle presenting itself on the beach.
     'Miss Madam of course,' Harry said, not taking his eyes from the two drops of condensation, slowly oozing down the side of his beer glass, watching their progress.
     'Oh her! Goodness knows and I don't care either,' said Tony, not wishing to give another thought to Miss Madam.
     They'd called it that from the first day of their vacation. The sat/nav Harry had installed in the dashboard of his black Mercedes car, was fast becoming part of their journey, involved in their lives, almost human you might say. She had a voice like burnt honey, and what a voice it was becoming; authoritative, imposing, bossy. Athough it was in clear crisp English, the sort one used to here on the BBC, the 'Voice' talked back and appeared to have a life of its own, much to the annoyance of both gentlemen. But the sat/nav had to stay. It got them out of trouble many a time, also landing them in it too!
     The two ageing friends were stopping put for a few days in this delectable seaside town, not far from the Pyrenees, the journey from England having so far being uneventful, much to their relief; an overnight crossing to northern Spain, then along the coast to where they were now ensconced, with a feeling of achievement and quiet satisfaction.  
     Both men were well and truly retired in some form or another, the twilight of their years upon them, both determined to enjoy themselves while they were still able to put one foot in front of the other. Their health was holding out for now, each having already experienced their share of aches and pains. They had decided to throw caution to the wind and carry on regardless. As it had been a long wait for this vacation, they were determined to enjoy it.
     Harry finished his beer and ordered another.
     'You know Miss Madam almost frightens me,' he said with a whimsical tone to his voice.
     'That's nuts and you know it!' replied Tony, still a little under the weather after experiencing that monstrous cocktail. He considered indulging in another, just to see what would happen, but ordered a beer instead, common sense getting the better of him.
     'Then why does she talk back to us huh? That's nuts!'
     Tony considered this for a moment, taking a long draught of his cold beer, frowning.
     'Perhaps you bought an odd one,' he offered, not at all convinced.
     'You can say that again!' Harry replied. 'You couldn't get more odd than her!'
     'There you go again, calling that sat/nav a 'her' retorted Tony. 'But it is weird I grant you. Whoever heard of a sat/nav answering back and talking the way Miss Madam does?'
     Early in their drive to the ferry in England, they had nicknamed the satellite navigation unit 'Miss Madam', because as it turned out, she was most authoritative and particular with her orders.  
     'Well I for one feel very nervous at times.'
     Harry finished his second beer, deciding that was enough for now. Soon they would be eating supper, indulging in a fine red wine. That was their favourite, with plenty to choose from now they were in France. Although there was always a decent choice near home for both men.
     Deciding to look for a nice cosy brasserie , hopefully offering a good choice of food, they stood up with considerable effort, paid the bill and toddled off.
     After a few more days luxuriating beside the sun-washed sand and sea of the Atlantic, they headed east in an area of the Pyrenees.
     As Harry drove his black Mercedes away from the coast, he'd already entered the daily instructions and destination for Miss Madam.
She had a habit of always choosing the most direct route, whether they'd agreed or not. It was a matter of follow her instructions, or the map. So Harry and Tony decided to trust her for now, seeing what would happen.
     It had been a straightforward drive away from the coast onto a main autoroute, Harry remembering in the nick of time to venture onto a large roundabout in an anticlockwise direction. He indicated quickly, swinging the wheel to the left, but the French were unimpressed with his manoeuvres. Harry swore at them politely, while Tony just held his breath.
     Then it was a simple matter of staying on the autoroute, except when they were approaching any roundabouts, Miss Madam would announce in her perfect crisp and decisive English, "at the roundabout in four hundred yards, take the second exit." She would always repeat the command much closer, "take the second exit at the roundabout." She'd obviously decided to stick to the English measurements of yards, rather than meters. The second exit usually meant go straight ahead, as both men soon learned. The next command would be delivered thus - "continue for eighty kilometers."
     All would go quiet for at least that length of driving and as often as not, sometimes no command at all.
    'She's having a coffee I bet,' announced Tony.
     'A croissant too maybe,' replied Harry. 'Why so quiet I wonder?'
     'I heard that!' came a voice from somewhere near the dashboard. 'You need no more instructions for now, alright?'
     Tony snapped his head around towards Harry, who just kept on driving.
     'I wonder if we have to put up with this the whole journey?'
     'Yes you do if you want my assistance!' retorted Miss Madam.
     Harry frowned, wondering what the devil was going on.
     'We could turn her off if you like, as I think we simply continue on this road for now,' he suggested.
     'I wouldn't do that if I was you,' came the reply, in no uncertain terms.
     'Good God! What now?' said Tony in a quieter voice to Harry.
     'Perhaps she's right!'
     'I am!' was the reply.
     A decision was made to head almost due east alongside the Pyrenees, the mountains drenched in the mists of time, scattered aimlessly along a stretch of majestic mystique; shadowed valleys almost endless, that breathed a multitude of different weather, gathering it from the land and sea; an earthiness gripping its skirts, like a ladies mantle in winter. 
     'They're really something, aren't they?' Tony pointed out, looking at the range of towering mountains to their right.
     They were to stay in a hotel, close to the very old hilltop walled town of Carcassonne, in the region of Languedoc-Roussillon, its strategic importance quickly recognized by the Romans, who occupied the hilltop until the demise of their western empire and then it was taken over in the fifth century.  Many rulers consequently built successfully upon the hilltop and although both Harry and Tony had visited before, were keen to return. Harry in particular, as he possessed a keen interest in medieval history.
     So they sought out the same hotel nearby. In fact it was situated conveniently across the road, near the entrance to the fortifications.
     Harry swept the car into the adjoining car park after hours of driving, sighing with relief, pleased to have arrived for a much needed rest. Although he more or less knew the way, a voice announced - "you have reached your destination!"
     'That's nice to know,' agreed Tony with a grin.
     He carried most of the bags to the hotel entrance, while Harry checked the car doors were locked carefully. The weather was becoming hot and even a little sultry, Perhaps a thunderstorm was expected, he thought shedding a jacket as he joined Tony at reception. 
     Their rooms were booked in advance, so they made their way up some stairs to the first floor, rather than take the lift, which was nowhere to be seen. The corridors were dark and foreboding, painted black, with silver on some wallpaper.
     'I remember this from the last time,' moaned Harry. 'It hasn't changed since, unfortunately. But I suppose we'll get used to it again. After all, we won't be here a lot of the time.'
     It was now late afternoon and Tony suggested he was ready for a cold beer.
     'I'm with you there, old boy,' replied Harry, opening the door of his room.
     'Meet you downstairs in half an hour.'
Tony entered his room, immediately turning on the air conditioning as low as possible.
     Both friends strolled across the road, entering the walled town of Carcassonne through the main gates, upward toward the restaurants, bars, small scattering of shops and boutiques.
     The atmosphere was relaxed as people wandered here and there, settling down in small groups, sitting outside enjoying a drink or two in the warmth of the evening. It still felt very warm and sultry.
     'What will you have my friend?'
     Tony was well aware Harry was likely to sit on his hands for a while, waiting and watching. So after Harry indicated the same draught beer he always liked first up, Tony ordered two cold beers from the young waiter. Harry usually made up for it eventually, as he was very partial to drinking an excellent bottle of red wine at supper time, enjoying the choice here in France. But it often depended where they ate. Sometimes the wine menu was limited, so he chose carefully, Tony never had any objections, trusting his friend's judgment.
    After the first pint, they settled back to relax, enjoying the atmosphere, noticing how the sky was becoming black, threatening.
     'Do you think we're in for a storm?' asked Tony, taking another long draught of his beer, glancing upwards to a darkening sky.
     'Could be,' answered Harry. 'Don't like the look of it myself.'
     A few moments later, there was a sharp clap of thunder after a flash of lightning, almost overhead.
     'Yep! It's a storm alright!'
     Tony placed his beer glass on the table, wondering if they should seek shelter before it rained. Immediately he felt the first cold drops upon his head.
     'Let's go inside,' he said grabbing the remains of his beer, as he got up from the table - Harry in hot pursuit. They left the remaining mixture of olives with tooth picks in a small dish on the table, as large drops splashed the old narrow cobbled street, turning it glowing with warm colours, as the evening lights began reflecting in gathering puddles.
     Rain pelted down in a shower of violence, as people ran in different directions to escape a soaking.
     As was the custom, they eventually ordered a meal.  Steak frites with salad was on the menu, so staying where they were, as the rain became ferocious for a time, they continued relaxing over a pleasant meal.
     Eventually the skies cleared, as it was time to return to their hotel. It had been a long day driving and their beds were beckoning.
     Three nights and two full days were enjoyed, wandering the ramparts of this large fortified Cite de Carcassonne, where many towers were built over a long period of time; barbicans to prevent attack from siege engines; one section of roof notably different to the rest being Roman, to that of the medieval ones.
      Harry became animated when he walked through old archways and into one of the towers, being thirteenth century and still known as "The Inquisition Tower."
     'Would you look at this!' he cried, feeling the stone wall, as if it was a woman's body.
     'I've seen it all before,' replied Tony. 'Don't you remember the last time we were here? 'You did exactly the same thing on that occasion.'
     'Oh! Did I?' Harry was not put off with Tony's understated reaction. He thought many a time of writing a book of that period, but kept procrastinating. He thought his age prevented it, but knew deep down that was yet another excuse for getting serious.
     As in the Dylan Thomas poem - "I dreamed my genesis and died again," Harry shrugged his shoulders and wandered on.
     Eventually it was time to depart and seek further horizons, the next stop being Avignon. As neither had been there before, they looked forward to a new experience. 
     Harry entered the address of the hotel in the sat/nav, with all the necessary details for Miss Madam to be getting on with. So they set off confidently, the weather reverting to sunshine with the sky speckled with a variation-on-a-theme of coloured clouds, the sun turning them from pink and grey in the morning, to pale blue and white-tipped in the early afternoon. 
     The usual directions were dictated by the "lady of the dashboard" and after a long enough distance, they entered the outside perimeter of Avignon.
     'So far, so good,' muttered Tony, as Harry swung the Mercedes to the left of the last roundabout, hoping for exact directions to the hotel, near the center of town, as they'd hoped.
     "Before the next intersection, prepare to bear right," Miss Madam ordered.
     'That can't be difficult,' said Harry hopefully. Clear and concise!'
     But then all hell broke loose. There was more than one road bearing right and the road they were travelling on had a multitude of lanes, the traffic so thick. Which one to choose?
     Approaching the intersection a little too promptly, Harry digressed and kept going.
     'Damn and blast! Now what?' he pleaded hopefully. Miss Madam had recognized his mistake, carefully picking up the reins once more.
     'At the next intersection, bear sharp right!'
     'Okay,' said Tony, confidence returning. 'But I don't like the look of all these narrow medieval streets. Traffic wasn't like this in those days!'
     'How true!' sighed Harry, starting to get hot and bothered.
     They appeared to be going round in a circle, the same narrow, one-way streets becoming worse than the last time they'd ventured down them. The corners were tight, roads blocked with traffic, making it difficult to see what was up ahead.
     Miss Madam seemed to be taking them on the same route over and over, becoming more than tedious for poor Harry, not knowing what to do after the third time; Miss Madam announcing, "you have reached your destination!" 
     'What destination?'
     Tony suggested they park the car and study the map, but it was perfectly obvious, there was no parking, nor was there anywhere they could stop in order to check the map.  They were almost literally up-the-creek-without-a-paddle. Miss Madam had thrown up her hands, abandoning them in their hour of need.
     'We are going to have to stop somewhere,' groaned Harry. 'This cannot continue. It's ridiculous!' he replied, utterly defeated. 'That blasted hotel must be somewhere. But where exactly?'
     Both men felt beaten, their spirits low. Miss Madam had let them down big time. So they were determined to find somewhere to park briefly, even if they had to double park.
     Harry turned off the sat/nav and headed in a different direction altogether, arriving on the outskirts of town. There they gratefully spotted some sort of carpark, which happened to be for students.
     'That'll have to do,' he cried, stating the obvious.
     Tony agreed, so Harry steered the car in the direction Tony indicated, carefully manoeuvring around closely parked cars, until he heaved a sigh of relief, turning off the engine, and just sat, fuming.  
     'What do we do now?'
     Both men spoke a little French, but decided whether French or not, they had to contact the hotel to ask directions. Tony volunteered as his French was a little better than Harry's; besides, they both had invested in smart phones a short while ago and now was the time to use one to phone the hotel.
     A call was put through easily enough, the receptionist speaking reasonable English, instructing Tony as to the correct directions.
     After a quick breath of fresh air, they set off again with fresh enthusiasm, until the same thing happened. They ended up going round in circles for another thirty minutes, until they stopped a second time in the same student carpark.
     'This has to stop. We can't do this all afternoon,' Harry moaned, tired and fed up. 'I suggest we contact the hotel again, cancel the booking if we're able and bugger off. What say you dear boy?'
     "I'm with you there old friend! An excellent idea! We'll have to abandon this narrow old place and seek pastures new.'   
     After yet another call to the same receptionist, they were let off the hook with their booking, having explained their predicament with charm to the young lady. She must have heard this all before; feeling sorry for them, informing they need not pay for such a last minute cancellation. It was obvious to both men, this had happened before.
     They heaved a sigh of relief and Harry swung the car in a south easterly direction, heading toward the coast of the Mediterranean. They weren't too enamoured with Miss Madam at the moment, deciding to temporarily sack her. She didn't like it one bit and said so.
     'You may be sorry for this!' she intonated, a little threateningly.
     'Who cares!' answered Harry.
     Immediately hearts lightened, as both men turned to each other and grinned.