I don't think we're in Kansas anymore toto

I walk down the wide avenue gazing this way and that and I notice a large crowd approaching me is it a popular protest, Saturday afternoon the perfect opportunity to reclaim the streets? No, its end of summer sales, 50% off, and the crowds are flocking, the line to the fitting rooms at HM stretches out the door, where am I?I turn to my imaginary toto and remark,

"I don't' think we're in Kansas anymore" toto says nothing. He won't dignify my comment with an answer, because of course we're not.

We are in Nice, France. I have just finished cycling for Darfur and slowly the world of mornings lit by golden light and beaches and new faces and bakery sandwiches for lunch starts to fade out and garish shoppers, fashionable, noses stuck up in the air begin to fade in to my consciousness. Sometimes my focus is so singular that I cease to see the commuters shrouded in designer fear.