Wish You Were Here

We had deposited our luggage in the cabins and came out into the thoroughfare; we were just getting our bearings and wondering where the restaurant was when a glamorous ship-board manageress waved at us and walked over. She kissed me on either side of my cheeks and, in her lovely French accent, she said:

“I’d remember you anywhere Sally”.

“Anne-Marie!” I greeted.

“Of course, I knew you were all coming – Glyn told me to look out for you,” she added.

Glyn is Chris’s brother who lives in Le Conquet and right now I’m tapping out this blog post whilst sat at Glyn’s desk. Chris is downstairs reading his Private Eye magazine and our youngest daughter, Bobbie, and her boyfriend, Martin (who hasn’t been here before), are out exploring the town. If I turn my head to the left I can look out over the harbour.

A little earlier Chris and I took a walk down to the quayside and watched the fishing boats unloading their cargoes of live crabs and fish (not frogs or snails, thankfully). The sky was grey and the wind was brisk, and the weather may not improve over the weekend but it is wonderful to be here. We’ll be taking the day crossing back on Monday, and coincidentally, Anne-Marie, whom we met in April when last we were here, will be working on that ferry too. Jusqu’ à demain… (Until tomorrow)