Days 41 & 42 – If a picture says a thousand words . . .

. . . then these have saved me a lot of typing . . .

Our view across Hydrobase de Biscarrosse from our pic-nic spot

The shallow water stretches into the basin a good 100 metres. But not shallow enough to prevent this short legged Beagle needing his periscope.

Day two and looking forward to a steak, salad and red wine pic-nic. We pad over the fifty metres or so and set our-selves up on “our spot”. Ready for the evening’s final two hours light show.

Have you ever forgotten to remove the elastic from around a roasted chicken wing and ended up performing a 9.7 inter-dental trampolining routine? Well, that just about sums up what we need to do with, as the label descibes, our “faux fillet”. We should have guessed that the clue was in the first word. When even your fork bounces back attempting to capture a morceau, then you know for sure that your pearly yellows and jaws are in for a serious work out. Good job we took a doggy bag along.

They say things happen in threes. Well, I’ve lost three things so far. So, I’m in the clear for the home run. N’est-ce-pas? First, a nearly full bottle of washing up liquid after my breakfast wash-up. Second, a nearly full bottle of shower gel. Neither, no big deal. Thirdly, my electric razor. Last seen at Tarascon-sur- Rhone. Who would take it from the sink I left it at? Can they use it without the charger?

Therefore,  the phrase “what are you like Brian” gets repeated frequently whenever I slip into search-about mode. So it was a strange comforting feeling when Mary-Ann revealed she’d lost her shower gel yesterday evening. “No worries” I said, “I have my nearly new gel, so we have two options”. Option one, “you wash my back and I’ll wash yours”.  “OK, OK – let’s go for option two”. This involves using separate cubicles that back onto one another. The idea being that Mary-Ann washes and then throws it over to me. Good theory. But not in practice. The reason? The cubicles appear to back onto one another, but in fact unbeknown to us, there is a four foot dividing gap, housing the water runaways.

“Finished?” – “Yes” – “OK, lob it over then” – “I have” – “Where to?” – “To you of course” – “Which direction?” – “Don’t be stupid!” – “Did you throw it left or right?” “Straight ahead, like we agreed” – “Are you sure?” (not a good reply at this point) – “You idiot!! I know where and whether I’ve thrown it or not” – “Oh, OK then. Well, how hard or far did you throw it?”  – “Oh, I don’t know, just over the top and into your cubicle” . . .