At the beginning of August, Montpellier seems to be the city the entire country travels to. The railway station resembled a huge anthill. Outside, tourists were walking along the crowded beach showing off their grilled bellies. It was terribly hot and we still had our long pants on.
We asked one of the stressed-out busdrivers where we might find a campsite. We ended up on a big one, an approximately one minute walk to the beach. That evening, we went to the beach. Montpellier, however, was not a place to stay for a long time. That’s why we left the campsite the very next morning and took the bus downtown. There were lockers that seemed perfect for our heavy backpacks but, at that time in France, people were afraid of bombs due to terrorist activity. Therefore, all these lockers were kept empty. There weren’t even public garbage bins anywhere.
We went to the city center - with our backpacks - and had our breakfast at McDonald’s (this was in fact the last time we had fast food before Rome). We took our first pictures there, right in front of a beautiful fountain. But - you guessed it - if we had those pictures now you could see them here. We got on the train again and, with a delay of three days, we finally arrived in Nice.