I got up and dressed – but as soon as I started walking, my sandal broke. Disaster!  I’ve been living in sandals. Time to hit the shops.

Both of us were somewhat saddle sore today so we vetoed the bikes and pulled on our walking boots for the 8 or 9 miles into Sete. The straight line of the cycle path seemed somewhat dull on foot, but we noticed certain things which had passed us by: the starlings lined up on the telegraph wires across the road, then suddenly taking flight and “murmurating” before diving in to the bamboo plants, perhaps to escape the wind, which was very strong today.

Once in Sete, we stopped to buy lunch at a boulangerie – a leek tart for me and a sort of anchovy and tomato topped bread for David – you wouldn’t find that in Greggs!  Then we set out to explore the town a little more, venturing into the central area around the station.  Things were a lot quieter now that the weekend was over and the wind made it difficult to walk in a straight line, so we dived into a junk shop. It was an interesting shop with an eclectic blend of vintage and antiques including a good collection of Velos Solex, which I know Mervyn, my father in law, would have enjoyed –  but the prices were crazy so we didn’t stay too long. We debated walking back to the campsite but by now our legs were screaming in protest so we decided to get a bus but had just missed one. It was a couple of hours until the next bus. We opted to stay in town and wait. We found the shopping street and I had a look for sandals, but French fashion shops only seem to sell little strappy sandals which wouldn’t stand up to the kind of punishment I put them through. No sandals for me today.

Despite the wind, the sun was out, so we found a bar by the canal with tables facing the sun to wait out the remaining hour until the bus came. What a hardship. When the bus came, the fare was 1 euro 30 to anywhere you like. Cycle paths, public toilets, bus services – it is striking how much the French invest in their public services. Ho, hum.