Thursday, 25 August 2011

Heading down the Mediterranean Coast

16th August
We left our camp stop at about 9, expecting to be at our next destination by 10 as it was only about 60 kms down the road. We spent the first 20 minutes trying to find the right road out of town (not a huge town by any stretch of the imagination), we drove on the correct road for about 30 minutes until we were only about 2cms on our map from our destination (about 8kms). Thinking we were nearly there we stopped at a supermarket to get a few things, mostly fluid as we were trying to keep hydrated in the heat, and therefore consuming a lot of lemonade and water.
Once we left the supermarket we easily found the correct road, headed towards the nearest town to the one we were headed for. The next hour we spent driving up and down around and round the most- tightly- packed- with- wandering- people- and- inconsiderate- cyclists- roads  and “holiday resorts” looking for signposts to where we wanted to be going. All the camping areas and little seaside villages were signposted except the one we wanted, eventually I looked at the map and realised why, there was a minute gap in the road we thought we could follow to get to the spot we wanted, with a river flowing between. To access our village we had to go back inland and then out to the coast again!!! No wonder it wasn’t signposted, you couldn’t reach it from where we were. So  problem semi-sorted we made a very straight forward trip to Les Capanades des Fleurry and the camp-spot we had identified as the one we wanted, in our book. Unfortunately, though the book says it has power, it doesn’t, and in the scorching heat we need power for our fridge which despite all my best efforts will not run on gas. Also the area is unshaded and tightly packed, so though there was a space we could have stayed at, we decided instead to book into the camp-ground next door, which for a pretty penny (well 26 euro actually) provides power, lots of shade beneath the trees, and quite a bit of privacy. So after driving for three hours we were pleased to be at rest in the 34 degree heat, we had lunch and then after sorting out our space, Hilary and I headed out to do reconnaissance. We checked out the beach (about 100 metres away), golden sand, greeny/blue sea, and hundreds (possibly thousands) of very brown people swimming, sunning, playing. We made the mistake of walking south down the beach which beckoned, it took me a few seconds to register what I was seeing, naked people everywhere!!!! Hilary was totally oblivious, splashing in the waves, in her own little space, but I was getting eye-fulls of ALL SORTS of brown bits.  I said to Hilary that I thought we should turn around and go back as I was feeling a little uncomfortable, she looked at me in a quizzical fashion wondering what I was on about. I told her to glance around, at which point she said, “oh”. She didn’t seem fazed at all, but we beat a hasty retreat never-the-less and instead headed in the opposite and safer direction.  We walked down beside the marina which held a number of large and very expensive looking motor yachts, had a browse around the few establishments (no shops really) which were open, before buying Hilary a huge ice-cream which she eat as fast as she could, but still couldn’t compete with the heat of the intense sun, which turned the ice to sweet vanilla liquid as fast as she licked.
We had an hour or so back in the truck, relaxing, before donning our togs, gathering our buckets and spades, and heading down to the beach again, this time with Diana as well.  Hilary played in the sand, I slumbered a bit, before I joined her for a swim, my first in the Mediterranean, and my first swim in the sea for years. It wasn’t warm, still made me gasp involuntarily as each step deeper exposed another hot yet delicate piece of flesh to the relative chill of the sea, but once submerged it was very pleasant. We frolicked in the waves for a good while before it was time to go back to the truck for a late dinner and 500 game before bed.

17th August
Today we awoke to another glorious day, the temperature was slightly lower than it had been with a gentle sea breeze taking the sting out of the sun.
After a leisurely breakfast and a bit of a tidy up Hilary and I headed to the beach, her with bucket and spade, collapsible stool and umbrella, me with a beach chair, fluids, camera, towels and stitching. I sat in the chair, feet up on the stool, about a metre from the sea stitching away happily, Hilary sang as she made a sand castle, pool, arm chair in the sea creation.  Di joined us having stayed at the truck and done some washing and written a postcard, and then had a wander into the village  to buy a baguette and have a nosey. We stayed until 1230 at which point we went back to the truck for lunch, fresh baguette, black olive tapenade, lettuce, tomatoes, avocado, cucumber, feta, brie, ham, melon, white fleshed nectarines, and grapes, our usual type of fare.
Post lunch we put the bed down in the truck and had a read, lounge, look at maps and books about Spain for about an hour. Then at 3 Hilary and I headed off to the beach again with the same accessories as in the morning.  Di stayed and read in the truck for an hour or so before joining us.
We stayed at the beach until 5.30, dozing in the sun, playing in the sand, wading in the water, just generally having a restful time. 
We went back to the truck, Di organised dinner, delicious corn tortillas with salad selections and pork steak strips I had marinated earlier in a honey, ginger, garlic and soya combination. Very pleasant sitting out at our picnic table in the shade of the awning in late 20 degree heat eating delicious food.
At about 7 I went for a walk, I had invited the others to join me, and though they showed glimmers of keenness, when it came to the crunch (it gets dark about 9 and the walk would take close to 2 hours) they weren’t ready or that motivated to get ready, and thought instead a leisurely tidy up followed by a wander into the town (I use this term very loosely) for ice-creams might be a preferable way to end the day. I instead headed off along the packed sand and scrubby vegetation towards Saint Pierre sur la Mer, which was supposed to be 3.8 kms away. I could see it, but the tracks were poorly sign-posted, and plentiful, with bits heading off here and there through the vegetation, and winding around all over the place. As I walked I was met by a multitude of walkers and cyclists the vast majority of whom were starkers, have you ever seen cyclists with no clothes, all sorts of floppy parts dangling and swinging as they peddle, some parts crushed uncomfortably beneath them!!  I tell you, I did not stare, in fact in a very prudish manner apart from a friendly eye contact and “bon soir” I kept my eyes averted. At one point I made the mistake of following a group of naked people who peddled and walked in determined fashion along a track which I thought might be leading in the direction I intended to go, only to be met by a sign telling me I had reached the “…… naturalist camping ground” …. No wonder I thought, before quickly turning on my heels.
I didn’t ever reach St Pierre sur la Mer, it seemed to recede as I walked around in strange straggly paths, but I had a nearly 2 hour brisk walk which must have been good for me, and it was nice to be alone with just me, (and a hundred naked people).

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