Today has been our first day without sun. There’s even been a soupçon of light drizzle. It feels a bit like being on holiday on the west coast of Britain in summer. Although it is still 17ºC, so it would have be a very lucky day on the west coast!

Yesterday we started to get a bit of campsite fever. There’s nowhere particular to walk other than to the beach and down the river to its mouth and we did both. It looks as if the area is busy in the summer. The campsite has hundreds of places for motorhomes/caravans/tents and probably more of various types of chalets and ready erected tents. There are also numerous restaurants in the area, most of which are currently shut.

The River Herault is clearly important for fishing with various sized boats tied up on its banks, including some quite big ships. There is a small passenger ferry but when we’ve walked past it is sometimes present and mostly isn’t. So not very reliable at this time of year.

I have managed to find some interesting history, even here. During the Second World War Hitler had ordered a “southern wall” to protect against a possible invasion from the south. On our campsite about 50 large reinforced bunkers were built, including a 200 square metre field hospital. About 30 of them are still standing on the edge of the beach and even within our campsite. A local associated has started to rescue some of them and gives guided tours each Saturday, which we will miss.

I made a bit of a rookie’s error on the toilet front. The toilet block nearest to us is closed, because it’s out of season. However on the first night I was able to empty our toilet in the specially designated area and flush it clean. Last night I did the same thing but unfortunately when I came to flush the contents of our onboard toilet away I found there was no water! Some time in the last two days the water to that toilet block has been turned off. It’s a good job nobody is camping near it because a nasty aroma will be emanating from that area until the water is reactivated.

Skye has had a great time on the beach chasing gulls, balls and sticks invariably returning to Basil covered in sand. She’s either had to be washed or brushed thoroughly to be allowed back in.

I think this will be our last beach until later in the trip but I haven’t had the heart to tell Skye that yet!

Finally, anyone who has been reading the blog since the early days will remember there is one bane of my life in Southern Europe – the Scops Owl. Well he’s tracked me down on this campsite. It must be early in the mating season because his irritatingly piercing yet monotonous calling has been intermittent. My bird book says he can tolerate the weather as far north as the Loire valley, so it may not be last of him.