Day 3. Thursday 1st June 2017. Mileage: 0000 Total: 125
From: Mousterlin To:
Mousterlin
Weather: Hot sunny.
We both awoke at 0830hrs after
a very fitful night’s sleep. Our first task was to ring B-in-Law Pete at home.
It was his 61st birthday today and I suspect unlike last year when
they had a marquee in the garden and tables groaning with food, this year might
well be a bit low key! Especially with the Stopportons not in attendance!
We laid the breakfast table
outside and soon were sat in the sun munching away. We toasted some crumpets
then smothered them with Carries homemade marmalade. This year her secret
recipe contained some limes. This had been a going away present and it was most
welcome. As we munched away we watched various rigs pull out. Moving on. This
was our second day. This site was limited to a 48 hour stop. We are uncertain
who if anyone polices this. There is no guardian or check in. Being early in
the season it’s not jammed packed but seemingly has a pretty regular change
over.
 |
| Memorial to 17 French Patriots. |
Soon it’s 1300hrs and we feel we
need a walk. We load the bergan with swimmies, towels, water and a pic-nic,
walk the hundred meters to the beach, take in the wonderful vista turn left and
start walking. After an hour or so of walking along the water’s edge we decide
to stop for some lunch. Our preps for lunch were somewhat rushed and not to
grand. In fact hardly deserving of the term pic-nic. It consisted of a couple
of Warburtons Thins and a tin of tuna. On inspecting the tuna I notice it is
not a ring pull. Tin opener? No worries Jackie has one attached to her bergan.
No knife to spread it. No problem. Bend the lid over and use that. I’m not
doing that says Jackie. Mike gets up walks a few metres down the beach kicking
over the sand and returns with an empty Razor Clam shell and starts dishing out
the tuna with that. Jackie looks on in disbelief. “What?” Mike asks. The
sarnies were good.
 |
| "Our beach away in the distance." |
After such a hearty meal, we dozed on the beach for an hour.
As Jackie was keen on a dip, “No we cannot swim here!” We walked the hour or so
back to “our” beach. Here I was bullied into going into the water for a dip. It
was warm enough. That is until you dived in. The water was clear, blue and
sandy underfoot. It was most refreshing. We dozed a little longer basking in
the rays of the late afternoon sun. Our stomachs thought we might be due some
Gin and Tonics with a handful of Doritos and Salsa. We returned to camp.
On
arrival we noticed we had new neighbours. Jackie said “Bonjour.” They said
“We’re English. “0h sorry,” says she. “The clues in the English registration
plate darling.” Says Mike. They were an older couple, arrived in France today
at Cherbourg and had spent most of the day travelling. They were meeting with
their daughter and her family on holiday up the road in Concarneau.
 |
"Our beach at Mousterin." |
We
caught the last rays of the sun before winding in the awning and setting up the
table inside for dinner. Tonight Mike was cooking Tagliatelle. It had a few
added ingredients. We were out of fresh toms so, I had to improvise. I opened a
can of Heinz Tom soup into which I chopped some saucison. This was heated and
poured over the Tagliatelle. Slice through the leaves of some spring onions to
make ‘em look like chives, mill on some black pepper and “You gonna eat like
your Momma make back in old Italy.”
2200hrs.
It’s still light out. Crack open a Thatcher’s. I deserve it.
