The sun has come out to play so we packed our bathers (well, most of us did), AJ decided to leave his on his bed, grrr!
Our destination is the seaside village of Pornic and on the way we stopped for a gorgeously simple baguette picnic in a shady little park with enough room for a bash of cricket.
Pornic was beautiful and shone as bright as the brightest star on this blue sky, sunny day. The port bobbed with small boats, people strolled the shores arm in arm, children skipped and giggled – where else would you be? An artist painted a canvas of the Chateau before him, its foreground busy with small, masted boats.
The same native Indian group we saw in Place Bellecour in Lyon, played their enchanting music by the sea. The sea wall was lined with ice-cream licking spectators. Julie bought a CD to take home as a memory. We walked along the water for ages until we came across Port de la Noeveillard with a small cove-like sandy beach finishing in a wall of dark rocks. JR took off to capture a few shots while the three of us wandered along in the shallows of the cold water and rested in the shade of the rocky cliff wall where we were to meet. Time passed and JR was no where to be seen. Lucky I have good eye sight as I saw him with hands on hips scanning the crowded beach for our familiar faces. Reunited again, and somewhat a little miffed, we headed back into town for ice-cream at Reve de Glace, we all agreed the ice-cream was superb, and so it should have been at $44 Aussie dollars for 4 cones! Ooh la la!
AJ wanted to revisit another beach before heading home. After a little u-turning back and forth we found a little beach lining a bay called Plage des Sablons. The water sparkled with a silver sheen in the late afternoon sun. We began a game of beach cricket much to the disgust of the demure French beach sitters. They gasped audibly with every crack of ball on bat. There was no reason to, we were well clear of most of them and certainly weren’t cutting loose. As usual, we were the loudest ones on the beach. A delightful little girl joined in our game, Alex coaxed her to have a bat and a bowl, he took her hands and helped her hit the ball across the sand, and she giggled with delight. We stayed for ages before returning home completely and utterly exhausted from our fun in the sun.
Our destination is the seaside village of Pornic and on the way we stopped for a gorgeously simple baguette picnic in a shady little park with enough room for a bash of cricket.
Pornic was beautiful and shone as bright as the brightest star on this blue sky, sunny day. The port bobbed with small boats, people strolled the shores arm in arm, children skipped and giggled – where else would you be? An artist painted a canvas of the Chateau before him, its foreground busy with small, masted boats.
The same native Indian group we saw in Place Bellecour in Lyon, played their enchanting music by the sea. The sea wall was lined with ice-cream licking spectators. Julie bought a CD to take home as a memory. We walked along the water for ages until we came across Port de la Noeveillard with a small cove-like sandy beach finishing in a wall of dark rocks. JR took off to capture a few shots while the three of us wandered along in the shallows of the cold water and rested in the shade of the rocky cliff wall where we were to meet. Time passed and JR was no where to be seen. Lucky I have good eye sight as I saw him with hands on hips scanning the crowded beach for our familiar faces. Reunited again, and somewhat a little miffed, we headed back into town for ice-cream at Reve de Glace, we all agreed the ice-cream was superb, and so it should have been at $44 Aussie dollars for 4 cones! Ooh la la!
AJ wanted to revisit another beach before heading home. After a little u-turning back and forth we found a little beach lining a bay called Plage des Sablons. The water sparkled with a silver sheen in the late afternoon sun. We began a game of beach cricket much to the disgust of the demure French beach sitters. They gasped audibly with every crack of ball on bat. There was no reason to, we were well clear of most of them and certainly weren’t cutting loose. As usual, we were the loudest ones on the beach. A delightful little girl joined in our game, Alex coaxed her to have a bat and a bowl, he took her hands and helped her hit the ball across the sand, and she giggled with delight. We stayed for ages before returning home completely and utterly exhausted from our fun in the sun.
