Interestingly, to get to the main part of the beach you had to walk through a 'naturist' section. The herd of browned, mainly male and somewhat elderly rotund bodies reminded me oddly of walruses - although one tries not to stare. There were some low-level chirrups on the gaydar although it's hard to be sure. At any rate this was one experience we elected not to try.
On Tuesday we drove to Nice to see stage 4 of the Tour de France. A vast multinational crowd radiated excitement in the heat of the day while a special electricity seemed to be reserved for the Sky team: palpable and somewhat mysterious. The sheer speed of the riders on this team time trial was quite remarkable.
Our habit of keeping the food-refuse bag in the boiler cupboard ended when we found we had company: a scuttling rat dropped in - literally- although all I saw was its Alien-like whip-tail.
Here are some pictures.
|Clare chills to a Radio 4 podcast on the veranda decking|
|Our temporary home|
|The navette en-route to the beach|
|The evening beach at St Aygulf|
|Alex and Clare on the hot sands|
|The author soaking it up|
|What did I say? What did I say?|
|The cathedral at Frejús|
|A rat you say?|