So one of my big dreams about coming to school in Barcelona involved riding from Barcelona to Italy, since it’s such a short ride (by US standards). Nice is only 6 hours from Barcelona, so I figured it’d as good a place as any on the Cote D’Azur to rest my head. The problem is, I INSISTED on going by motorcycle, in spite of the fact that the weather forecast was for rain most of the week. I hate riding in the rain, I suck at it, and well, I wasn’t even prepared. My Aerostich is fine until a point, but after a couple hours, I’m soaked to the bone. Cold and wet, my brain shuts down and I make a lot of stupid mistakes. So Saturday I did something smart and holed up in a hotel in Narbonne for the night, hoping the rain would go away by Sunday. I woke up to a beautiful sunny sky, and began anew.

The ride was fine for the first hour, a bit windy, but after racing at Willow Springs for 3 years, I laugh at wind. However, the rain began, and although the wind had stopped, the rain alone was uncomfortable enough. I rode faster than I should’ve, given the lack of visibility, stopped often, and even considered trying to hitch a ride the last hour into Nice. Which I should’ve done. I made it into Nice, was flying down the main promenade hoping the street sign for my hotel would be easy enough to see. I noticed the van in the next lane over stop suddenly for a red light anyone in California would’ve gone through on the yellow. I was like “what the hell is he doing stopping for that?” Then I noticed the car in front of me had done the same. Shit.

So I slammed on the brakes, and of course wiped out since it was pouring rain. Total retard move. POS BMW Scarver landed on my ankle, and my wellies which had served me so well in the snow in London were useless against the giant muffler that landed on my ankle and sprained it. The wellies were also useless against rain, as I had icy cold lakes in each boot, an unbearable sensation I hope never to experience again. Don’t beleive any reviews you read, this “starter” bike was designed with the sole purpose of making riding as unpleasant and difficult as possible, to encourage new riders to give up and buy BMW cars.

The guys around were very helpful, one called the police/ambulance, while the guy in front of me went to drop off his wife, and then came back to fill out the accident report. Seems my bike did actually hit his car, although I was too focused on trying not to be pinned under the bike to notice. Even if it didn’t, whatever. That’s the only thing my rental insurance actually covers. Which gives me yet another reason to hate the Spanish. In the US, one can rent a vehicle, and the insurance covers ANY damage done to it. I once returned a car with a missing window, no questions asked.

In Spain, so many people abused that type of insurance, that rental insurance now only covers the other parties affected. So the hundreds of euros of stupid cosmetic damage and of course getting this pile back to Barcelona are all out of my pocket. Which is deep enough to hole up at the Radisson instead of the cheap hotel I was heading to, so I guess I can handle it. But spending money on a hotel where I know I’ll be cared for is much more pleasant than spending money fixing/schlepping some stupid bike I hate and never should’ve rented in the first place.

However, in Nice, everyone has been so nice. ;-P The bellhop recommended an urgent care facility nearby, where I had a fabulous doctor, and the bellhop and concierge even came by to see if I needed a ride back to the hotel, at the end of their shift at midnight. Talk about service! I’m a huge fan of the Radisson now. But I still need to figure out how to get this thing back to Barcelona…