| Day 14 - St Martin de Ré |
| Written by Kevin | |||
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We had a bit of a rough night with the Izzy-monster again. The heat of the last couple of days was making her skin very itchy and there's not much we could do for the poor little mite. However, after last night's festivities both girls thankfully held out until a reasonable time, Izzy around 7:30 and Ami a bit longer. All very welcome, given that Grandad has gone home. Kas had as much of a lie in as she could manage while Kev failed to feed either daughter properly and also failed to engage them in mindless TV watching. Just couldn't get that satellite box to send a signal to the TV.
So we set off somewhat later than planned for a brief trip to the lovely little town of St Martin de Ré ( www.st-martin-de-re.fr ), capital of the island of Ré, and hence involving a trip over the bridge again. Subsequent research uncovered that the bridge owners do, in fact, add a supplement of €7.50 a trip during the French summer holidays in July and August. St Martin de Ré ( www.st-martin-de-re.fr ) was built as a fortified port and in the middle there's quite a bizarre arrangement of a near circular (except for one walkway) harbour with a little island in the middle. The tide flows up and around the boats parked at their no doubt very expensive moorings.
Once around the water's edge, two things became obvious fairly quickly. Firstly, the sun was out, so no sign of the thunderstorms yet, but because we all came out with no suncream on then the sensation of buring skin arrived pretty quickly. Second, Ami was having a grump because she was tired/hungry/bored (take your pick). We think it was most likely just tiredness, but a five year old will never admit to that. So it took some effort but we eventually got her back to a direct course and reasonable speed with the promise of a chocolate crêpe. We stopped at a creperie called the Phare - on the harbour "island" right near the walkway. Nice, except Izzy ate nothing and Ami didn't eat much. Guess she really was more tired than hungry.
We noticed that the clock had somehow crept round to nearly 4pm, and decided to call it a day, albeit not a very long one.
When we got home, all was fairly quiet. Everyone else seemed to be out. We had a quiet tea indoors ( because the thunderstorms were trying to arrive ). We have begun an attempt on the summit of the European "Terrine de Campagne" mountain, which had been building up quietly over the week. There were also some sausages from last night and a salad including a massive cucumber grown in the owner's garden and given to us a couple of days ago. Shortly afterwards Edward and Lucy arrived home from an afternoon in La Rochelle ( www.ville-larochelle.fr ) and they played with us out front for a little while before they went for their tea. This was interupted a one point by a nappy of mass destruction and the consequent requirement to empty the rubbish bins. Another one of Izzy's finest that wasn't ever going to be allowed to sleep in the house. Alex wandered over a little after Edward and Lucy left too. He and Ami played nicely in the sandpit for a while, with both acting like typical kids of their age, i.e. making up games with rules that neither understand and then getting upset about it, and attempting to occupy exactly the same small piece of sandpit despite the vast acreage of available space, or fighting over the same bucket when they had four to choose from. I will never understand this aspect of small children's play, but that's how it goes, apparently. We found a moth on a wall which Alex decided needed to be sandblasted, a crime which resulted in the mandatory minimum sentence of a trip back to his bedroom. Izzy was being a pickle thoughout and ended up in the naughty corner (in fact, just sitting on the grass looking away from us all) a total of three times. If she was in California she'd be on death row by now. After Alex left, William came over to display some fine gymnastics on the swing and the asymmetric bars (which hold the swing together), but by this time it was past 7:30 and therefore plainly time to get the little darlings off into snoozy land. Apparently, the asymmetric bars have been officially renamed the Uneven Bars by the Fédération Internationale de Gymnastique. This day could have been much worse given the late night yesterday, but neither child was particularly stroppy for an extended period. Maybe between them they've realised it isn't going to get them anywhere. Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt......
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| Last Updated on Friday, 18 September 2009 23:27 |
| The magic of photography is metaphysical. What you see in the photograph isn't what you saw at the time. The real skill of photography is organized visual lying - Terence Donovan |