Pete and Clare, Bob, Allenna and myself stopped somewhere for a coffee en route to St Pierre - this motorbike was tied to the wall. It dates from the 1950's sometime and is called a Beckham?? Or similar. The village was called Taliban. Or something like. Not really on the ball today, after a most relaxing little break.
Lunch was in our third choice, all our fave restos being closed. This wasn't bad... salad, moules, chocolate mouse. Mostly; there were variations.
This is my self-portrait, apparently looking into a microscope, with Pete and Clare in the distance.
Here they are, up closer...
The weather was just perfect. Not too hot, no wind, couldn't have designed a better day.
I made a recording of the gently plashing waves which I have tried to put up here for your pleasure, but it exceeds some limit and it can't be done. Sigh.
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