Almost breaking my neck in the name of "Art".

Up early to take my snare drum down to the beach to practise upon. What makes drumming difficult for me (perhaps for everyone) is controlling the contact that the stick has with the skin of the drum. Even a proper drum pad does not quite present that unforgiving tension that a drum skin has. The particular challenge for me is to stop the stick bouncing when it strikes the skin. Sometimes a bounce is desirable but in the main one wants clean single sounds.

Therefore, I have to practise simple routines on a drum itself and not just a pad. Therefore, I have to find an isolated spot and time of day when I'm not going to irritate anyone.

So, down to the beach to a spot which I'd identified last night - a flat rock at the base of a small cliff. This morning there were only two people about - girls bent over a rock pool collecting shell fish.

What I had not anticipated was how bloody slippery the rocks were; covered in a green slime and trillions of flies. Anyway, there was no choice.

But it was precarious getting into position and even more precarious climbing down afterwards, especially wearing sandals.

The drum.

The view.

The sandal.

The set up.

Side view.

The slime that had to be traversed. (The drum is to the left of the orange carrier bag.)

Practised for 45 minutes. Presume that I will get slightly more proficient with each session.

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Last night's dinner:

Spaghetti and tomato sauce and salad at the cabin.

Followed by a walk along the beach at sunset.

Today's lunch:

Walked into St Georges de Didonne (me twisting my neck backwards every few metres hoping a bus would come along - it didn't).

Typical house in St Georges

 Found this great wee cafe which served low alcohol cidre.

Naturally poured it into a glass.

Then noticed the cidre cups on the table in front of me.

Superb galette.

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Currently reading:

I've struck lucky with a fantastic autobiography on my Kindle. Hilarious, riveting and right up my street.