We swam out to the float today. There is a float, see, floating, bobbing, all inviting-like. We swam out to the float and clambered on top to sun ourselves. We looked over the edge to watch the fish swim by.



Shit. I mean, COME ON. There’s no fancying it up: the beach is great. It is a little one, but it is all we need. The umbrellas are stripey. The bar sells ice creams. The rocky cliff turns into steps. If we are lucky, (we are lucky), we have remembered to stop at the boulangerie for a raspberry beignet and a raisin snail.

A less lucky day, there were jellyfish instead of jam doughnuts.

Today was not that day: today we swam out to the float and watched the fish swim by. The water is calm and clear these days, clear enough that you can see to the bottom, where it looks like someone – the lobster-in-charge, I assume: he would have a moustache, like someone in charge – has raked the ground clean. The fish were silvery, or maybe it was just the light.