Last night’s dinner:
Pizza at the camp restaurant.
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| Sunset afterwards. |
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Drumming practice
update:
Off early-ish this morning for the last leg of our holiday
at an apartment in Vieux Boucau.
But managed to fit in 20 minutes practice with the drum pad
(left hand only), sitting on the decking of the cabin before we left.
It's the left hand that is the problem - as it would be after almost 62 years of being under-utilised.
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Pyla to Vieux Boucau:
The journey is approx. 90 minutes. Stopped at this Brocante
on the way but they had no HO scale trains or cars.
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| Old Renault van beside the Brocante. |
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WI-FI
We won’t get our appartment's Wi-Fi connection until tomorrow, but the
woman in the cycle hire shop in Vieux Boucau said that I could use her
connection to send off today’s blog episode.
That was kind of her, but I think I’ll keep the blog short
today.
She set up a little table and chair for me and I proceeded to log on.
Then the dog's head arrived atop my right thigh. I'd seen this dog in operation earlier - a total brute, whose favourite activity was to be dragged around the cycle hire courtyard by one of the assistants while gripping a padlock chain in its jaws.
At first, the weight of the head on my leg was surprisingly pleasant. But then the head switched to snarling mode. To have a head full of vibrating teeth in such intimate contact with a limb was petrifying.
Knowing nothing about human-dog etiquette, I decided to finish up the blog as speedily (ie instantly) as I could, express my thanks in a loud enough voice that the woman in charge would call off the dog, and hope that I could escape with my body unpunctured.
And, fortunately, that's what happened.
Didn't attempt to take a photograph in case the dog was trained to respond savagely to the sound of a click or a flash of light.
She set up a little table and chair for me and I proceeded to log on.
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| The little table. |
At first, the weight of the head on my leg was surprisingly pleasant. But then the head switched to snarling mode. To have a head full of vibrating teeth in such intimate contact with a limb was petrifying.
Knowing nothing about human-dog etiquette, I decided to finish up the blog as speedily (ie instantly) as I could, express my thanks in a loud enough voice that the woman in charge would call off the dog, and hope that I could escape with my body unpunctured.
And, fortunately, that's what happened.
Didn't attempt to take a photograph in case the dog was trained to respond savagely to the sound of a click or a flash of light.
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| The bike. |
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