So with a rest day called I get to relaxing as best I can but I do need to go to the shops and being this map-close to what looks like one of Europe's longest and most stunning beaches (well on the map anyway) I have to go right? Only a twenty mile calf stinging round trip. Ouch. Probably shouldn't have done it for current/increasing the current injury problems; definitely should've done it for awesome beach reasons. Now I'm not much of a beach person but what a stunner it was, soft light yellow sands, inviting blue waters but with a surf to challenge anyone seeking anything more than a dip. Mind it did make me more that a little body conscious. There were some stunning attractive bronzed goddesses, each more beautiful than the last and each knowing it more than the last; looking through my expertly under-tanned (but with highly amusingly cyclist tan lines) pudgy body, only seeking the eyes of the muscular tanned elite, of which there were many.
Mind you I did forget just how naked the French get at the beach. There were sights that could've made you blind and sights that would make you wish you were. I mean I'm no prude, if you want to rock out with your cock out it's up to you but heavens to Betsy, please don't walk around the tide line bending down from the hip to leisurely pick up sea shells. I mean the eye of Sauron has a less intimidating stare than the anal wink I was given by Mons. Middle-aged-spread-all-over-tan-man. C'est la vie. Back to camp for some proper rest and dinner, for tomorrow it's back to the road, pain-killered up and hoping for good times.
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