Out on our own again, and not really sure of where to go, we picked a spot on the coast and drove to it. This spot was Gruissan. Driving there we noticed the environment shifted to give more of a Spanish feel. This is to be expected as we were driving closer to the Spanish border. Stone houses we being replaced with concrete apartments to rent and little retirement homes. Still some stunning scenery around with the man-made harbour and snow capped Pyrenees towering over the horizon. We were back in tourist land though and we could feel our disapproval as we drove towards the beach.


We happened to time our visit to coincide with a windsurf festival, so the beaches were heaving. This wasn’t a bad thing as we camouflaged ourselves in with the other million and one campervans, and took a walk along the beach before settling in for the night. To Verity’s disapproval the thud of bass started from the nearby festival and boomed out into the early hours. She gave a valiant effort at an old woman grumble towards the noise, before I heard snoring coming from her direction, and found her sound asleep. She remained this way right through to around 8am when we were greeted with a scorcher of a day, with temperatures well into the thirties.

We drove down the coast but found every area to be the same as the last, so we didn’t stay in any of them. Time for a new plan.

We want to head over to the west coast of France. Starting off in the south moving northerly into Bordeaux.  La Rochelle being a destination recommended by almost everyone.

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