I sit here this Sunday morning with a view over the Med and the sun streaming in through Doris’ front window. It’s not warm yet, but if yesterday is anything to go by, it will heat up nicely to the high teens and we could be sat outside in shorts and tea shirts with a cup of coffee later today.
The weather has been pretty fabulous. Over the past week there’s been little wind and lots of Mrs Sun. And, I have to say, that’s how we had imagined it when we set off on this adventure sixteen months ago. Everything comes to those who wait, I guess.
We had two days at an ACSI site on the western side of Etang de Vaccares at Varage. This is a huge seawater etang fed from the Med by a long canal between two hills at Martigues. The campsite (€14) was lovely and it allowed us to recharge everything, C did a mountain of washing and dried it in the fine weather, and apart from being chased by mosquitoes – I didn’t realise they were such a plague on the Med coast – it was a relaxing sojourn.
We cycled from the site to Martigues. Please note that, unlike all German lakes and many in France, there isn’t a designated cycle route round and you have to play dodgeball with the traffic on a big road. Martigues didn’t take us until we found the old quarter, which was more like an eighth. A tiny area based round an old marina with pastel houses and brightly coloured fishing boats.
We drove back to St Marie de la Mer for the weekend via les Baux-de-Provence, a small village and castle on the edge of the Chaine des Alpilles. All in white and not overly touristified, the views back to the distant Med were significant and the little streets charming. We chose not to stay at the €19 campsite we parked in last time, but picked two Aires, the second where we are now right by the sea.
Yesterday we cycled to Phare de la Gacholle, one of three Camargue lighthouses, a twenty mile round trip across the Camargue, taking in the nothingness of it all, but enjoying the sunshine.
We ran (still running every other day), watched Strictly, and wrote and knitted. I am now close to 80,000 words and nowhere near finished. But it is coming together – and I am loving it still. C is close to 80,000 knit one, pearl ones, and someone is going to be very happy with their shawl.
For me, the only thing about the effort of writing (I now call it work – I’m putting in at least four hours a day, every day), is that I don’t know what it looks like. Is it any good? Should I be bothering? We’ll see. It is the best I can make it, and if that’s not good enough we’ll find out next summer when we get it out there.
Nothing today. Find a cafe, post the blog, tie up Christmas plans, do some admin. Oh, and write some more. Have a good one.