Travelling Companions at the Mediterranean

Posted on 26 July 2005

Travelling Companions at the Mediterranean
Originally uploaded by Barbara Y.

The first sight of the Mediterranean and we all cheer. Shirley is driving. We head towards Narbonne Plage, miles of sandy beach and Gill and Rowan are more animated than we’ve seen them. This is what they have been wanting – hot sun, white sand, and dips in this famous sea. (I think I want to dip also but when I wade in later, it feels too cold.) We stop at the tourist office and are told only one hotel has a vacancy. It isn’t beautiful but it is cheap and directly across the street is the beach…

Our two beauties go to their room, don their bikinis and are gone to lie in the sand. (Later they tell us the wind is too strong and sand keeps covering them. They move to the rocks.) Shirley and I, hot and sweaty from driving, sit in a restaurant under the hotel and drink a beer – and then fetch water, lots of water, fruit, and croissants for the morning.

Later that evening, the four of us look for a restaurant and decide on one in the middle of town (actually, we let Gill decide), not one along the tourist strip, and eat well, the ambience better than the food, but still the food is more than adequate and the desserts, much to Rowan’s glee, are superb.

I, as usual, fall into a deep sleep immediately while Shirley tosses and wakes with each truck, motor cycle, baby screeching in the restaurant below.


The next day we leave and drive to the next town, Gruissan, and again are lucky. We find a hotel, directly across from the beach. (The four of us are in one room but again the price is right and the beach calmer.) Gill and Rowan hit the beach and Shirley and I walk, then sit in the hotel’s restaurant and read and write, hoping the other two of our writing group are writing as in Vancouver it’s Saturday morning, our meeting time. Too bad we didn’t think ahead and tell them and write to a common theme. No matter. We wrote.

Later that evening, we drive into town and found – or rather Gill found – a restaurant on the street called “Entre terre et mer” – and though the wind blew and we were cold, the food was superb, and we felt decadent and blessed.

*** (I think this blog a mite boring, a travelogue.)

The next day, Sunday, was market day in the small town – see picture – and Shirley and I once again sat and wrote and then wandered the streets with Gill and Rowan.

We drove home the slow way via Castres and had a picnic of bread and cheese, apricots and apples in the gardens of the Goya museum and then strolled through the museum. What kind of creeps me out, yet fascinates me are Goya’s sketches – a series on human follies and another series on war – grotesque people doing crazy things.


On Monday, Shirley and I went to another town for a literary lunch with Susan who loves good food, aligns it to the pleasure of orgasm, and it was pretty damn good but my memory is failing. What does an orgasm feel like? Afterwards, we sat in Gaillac’s large park and talked about our latest writing projects… lots to chew on…


and the next day, Tuesday, today, we went to market in town in the morning and though we intended to sit in the square and write, it was too crazy – too many people to greet, too much noise… but we did manage to steal away before lunch and write again… and all afternoon, in the 38 degree weather, we have been writing and editing, sewing and doing laundry.

Oh yes, thoughts are brewing in this heat but I’m melting. More later…

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