Lanton

First thing this morning, a pooper malfunction at the aire. "Monsieur, Monsieur", shouts John, whilst pointing at the chemical toilet disposal point. "There, not through the grid for the grey water!" An early morning barbecue impression avoided!!

This morning, our journey took us past acres and acres of vineyards. As the road sliced between them, we could see the large bunches of bulbous grapes weighing down the vines.

Shortly after, we stopped at an aire to replenish Marge's hundred litre fresh water tank. This water we use for washing ourselves, the dishes, our clothes and flushing our toilet. We always use 'potable' (drinking water), or bought bottled water for drinking and cooking. Once on the coast, fresh water is normally chargeable, so this was an important stop.

We arrived at tonight's aire at around two o'clock.

After lunch, we took a walk along the beach, where we found a sheltered spot.

Despite it being very warm, the wind was brisk. For a couple of hours we enjoyed some time reading and dozing on the warm sand. By the time we awoke from our slumber, the tide had drawn back from us, and the small boats opposite were now marooned on the soft, curved banks of sand.

Back at Marge, the acorns from the oak tree above fell on her bonnet and roof, with a loud popping sound as they hit the panels. It could be an annoying night!

After dinner, we took a walk, literally a few metres, back to the beach to catch the last of the sunset. The sky adorned with whisps of pink candy floss.

Another town, another library, this one almost on the beach.