Deborah Determan, Darlene’s older sister, a vocational rehabilitation counselor and a most congenial companion on many of our travels, made her way from Omaha to Chicago to London Heathrow to Nice yesterday and today. She arrived impressively fresh and full of questions about Euros, crepes, and words in French she saw on signs while she and I rode the bus back to Cannes. Darlene had worked out with Etienne at Soft and was waiting eagerly on the apartment balcony, calling to us across the street when we reached Place Vauban, but we were too busy rolling the luggage across Boulevard Carnot to hear her. Now, after supper, Deb’s lack of sleep has finally caught up with her, and she has settled into the guest room for a good night’s rest.
While Darlene and Deb checked out the downtown late this afternoon, I went for a swim and found the public beach nearly empty compared with the crowds a week ago, before our trip to England. And the water was noticeably colder, convincing me to cut short my usual half hour of Australian crawl. Fall is definitely in the air, and even in the ocean. “But it’s still nice,” Darlene adds, “and much warmer than England!”
Is this for real?