A perfect holiday beach at Carcan Plage on the Atlantic.
We stayed at a campsite in the pine forest that was lovely and peaceful with plenty of sunshine most days. Not a lot to disturb the tranquility apart from some wild boar action at night when they came looking for food. I think I'll remember it as the oyster holiday as we ate loads from the nearby bay of Arcachon. Delicious from the market stall with a couple of rickety old tables set out where you could sit with a glass of cold white Bordeaux and a dozen salty lemony oysters; slurp! I'll also remember we had the biggest and best inflatable unicorn- in case you're tempted, for use on the lake not the ocean....
There were't many insects, but that might be a sign of something environmentally awful of course. Martin got bitten to death by something although I didn't have a single bite. Perhaps all my medication makes my blood taste awful.
On the way back I came back down to Earth with a crash at the Eurotunnel terminal which had piped pop music blasting out in the car park- FFS what fresh hell is this?
Coming home to the garden was nicer; some (a bit too blowsy) yellow dahlias and some nice little cyclamen peeking through. And a ton of plums!
We also have new floors, sanded and stained so we at last have unpacking on the horizon, once the Vitsoe shelving is put up in a couple of weeks.
I had to come back a few days early for my angiogram pre-assessment so that I can have the procedure next week. Although I also saw the respiratory consultant who said they may think again about the transplant due to my osteoporosis. Great. I'll just have to take it as it comes. It seems to be grinding inexorably on.
If I survive the angiogram I'll post again next week.