uncle Bert took the ferry from Nice to the island of Corsica yesterday with his bicyclette for a few days away...planning a simple touring trip, biking around, doing some quiet exploring and crossing his fingers that he would find a hotel. an hour or so after he left (rolling down the cobblestoned street, backpack on, wicker basket on the bike) our friend Maria called, "Is Bert still going to Corsica?" "Yes, he's on the ferry now, should be in at 5, why?"
turns out Maria's husband was in Corsica too, captaining his millionaire bosses stink pot (local speak for non-sail boat) yacht. the millionaire Ruskie's (we don't ask what he does, we like our kneecaps!) "it-girl" mistress was complaining about the weather and they were going to fly out early direct from the island. that would leave Phil to get the boat back to port in Nice alone, did we think Bert would want to join him? Phil called later that night while we were enjoying a great meal at Maria's (she's a first class professional chef)....Phil had met Bert at the ferry dock and all of them were having dinner together! the English yacht master, the millionaire Russian, his floozy mistress and uncle Bert.
it could only happen to Bert.