Nice Ville SNCF, 16:00

A tall rangy man, scruffy, oddly dressed, strode across the station concourse to a small group of trees on the opposite side of the station approach road from where we were sitting.

He had wild hair, a yellow sports jacket, a red keffiyeh around his neck, with a pink handkerchief visible hanging from his belt and protruding beneath the jacket. He stood next to one of the trees, facing away from us and proceeded to piss. At least, that is what we assumed. He started talking to an arab-looking teenage boy near him. The boy said something curt, and called two friends over. They shouted at the man. The rangy man stopped pissing or whatever and skulked back to the station building, avoiding the boys and facing away from them. His walk was fast and furtive. The boys watched him go, talked amongst themselves, wandered away.

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After 16:30, there was a rush of vehicles collecting travellers from the station. There were not enough spaces for all the arriving vehicles, so there was competition for the few temporary parking slots.

One woman arrived, stopped her car just after a newly-vacated space, and started to reverse into it. She failed. A second car had come just after her, and it drove neatly forwards into the space. The first woman stopped her car and got out. She left her car blocking the road, and explained the second driver's errors to her, loudly and forcefully. We watched. The situation was soon resolved when a traveller left the station and greeted the second driver. They loaded and left, and the first woman at last had her parking space. We were somehow disappointed that this drama was cut so short.