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Every year for the whole of August, the factory shop closed right down.
When the girls got paid for their thirteenth month, they planned to get right out of town.
Just like the swallows and the yachtsters They would migrate so far away
Not even staying in Europe, Algiers was the place to stay
On the North coast of Africa, with Nadia's Father and brothers
And no, we couldn't go with them, they couldn't take any others.
So with just a week's advance warning, I was served notice to quit.
And my buddy who'd been hanging out there, if there's a reason he could have been it.
No we couldn't stay in the flat on our own, there was some remedial work to be done,
You know they may not really have trusted us, in those crazy days of fun.
It was early one morning on the first of the month, Two guys with guitars walked out.
And stood by the side of the peripherique, seeking any kind souls about.
Ah but Hitch hiking ain't easy with luggage, Nobody wanted to stop,
We waited for hours and then when we got lucky, it was usually just a short hop.
Days and nights we were on the road, we'd sleep in any old barn.
With sidetracks and detours a plenty, turning off to go by the farm,
When you rely on the kindness of strangers, you have to take the good with the bad,
And we weren't in any kind of hurry, so five days didn't seem so bad.
But we were still in the same old country, in a city that's built by the sea,
That's where the big trains terminate, but the station is no place to be.
We made use of the left luggage lockers, so one of the problems was sorted
Carefully guarding the passports, didn't want to end up deported.
I remember swimming off the rocks, and rows of cafes around the harbour
But this wasn't the best part of cote d'azure, it didnt have what we were after.
We caught a bus along the coast, to the long beaches where we could play,
And met up with some beach bums there, who showed us where we could stay,
The nights are so warm and it never rains, so you can sleep right under the stars,
Until the bulldozers come in at 5am to move the sand around just where you are.
A couple of stangers turned round and stared, that seemed a little underhand,
When you're talking in English you can easily forget, that some of them will understand,
Brian found a friend, and I did too, for a while we were happy in heaven,
It's easy to romance when you're in France, and they said they were from Devon.
Well the sun got hotter and burned the soles of my feet, and a refresh in the sea was lukewarm
Day after day without any shade until the coming of the big storm,
When the Mistrael blows it picks up the sand and blows hard into everything,
That carries on for three or four days and there's nowhere you can play and sing,
The cafes are all empty on the outside, and then the hailstorms come stinging down,
After three or four weeks living on that beach it was time to move on out of town,
We thought we'd try our luck with the next one along, I think it was Saint Maxime,
But this wasn't a case of rinse and repeat, more like the end of the dream,
The busking didn't work well, we were still hungry, and the beach wasn't cool like before
The storm had left thousands of dead fish on the sand, I think that was the last straw.
So we decided to spend the very last few francs on the train back towards the port
We met a cool guy, who talked a good talk and he explained to us just what he thought
While rolling a fat one, he convinced us both to just stay on the train and keep going,
If the guard comes round you keep your foot against the door, he said they've got no way of knowing,
That's not something I'd ever do again, the thought of it can only embarrass,
But Instead of five days thumbing a lift on the road, we were suddenly back in Paris.
In the city of light you can put anything right, just playing for one or two hours,
Hey a room with a bed, such a luxury and the best of all a hot shower.
The new EP from Scottish songwriter Alec Bowman_Clarke goes deep, setting vulnerable lyrics to gentle melodies & stripped-back arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 30, 2021
Alec Bowman perfectly captures the dark soil under the pastoral world of British folk with this collection of melancholy originals. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2020
