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Its grey and cloudy this morning as we say goodbye to the Owners and set off at 10:40 to look at Beziers. We pass the cathedral and go on into the city but there is no where to park a motor-home or two. Much of Beziers is busy and feels run down, and there appears to be a lot of North African styling and people. We leave the city and head back out into the countryside to find the Mediterranean. The scenery is different now, scrubby trees, Mediterranean shrubs and grasses and cactus. We drive to Le Cap d'Agde and get our first glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea which today is grey rolling surf with spray off the rocks. The town is very touristy and doesn't welcome motorhomes as every car park has a low barrier. Most of the buildings are typical 70's resort, pastel coloured cubes with verandas but now looking quite run down. We find a beach side Aire and stop to make coffee before carrying on towards Sete along a causeway where we spotted our first flamingos, thousands of pink blobs in a blue lake. Approaching Sete we could see the busy port ahead with cruise ship Silver Whisper dominating the skyline. The port area is lined with colourful restaurants, bars and cafes. Continuing across the causeway we see more flamingos as we approach Palavas Les Flots (a place Ali knows well from her school exchange trip in 1976). We drive all round the town looking for parking but from a very expensive Aire there was none to be found so we headed for a layby on the main road where we had lunch in view of another flock of flamingos. Continuing towards Aigues-Mortes we see yet more flamingos (Nick W comes on the radio singing a well known song) and lakes which look almost blood red, we make a note to look up what causes this phenomenon whether its algae, plankton or minerals. We also see our first Carmargue white horses grazing in the marches. We drive all the way round the huge fort. It is built from ochre coloured stone and very well preserved. We continue to our stop for the night north of Stes- Maries-de-la-Mer arriving at 16:40 along a sandy lane flanked by fields of horses and black bulls with lyre shaped horns. The place feels very Spanish with sandy fields and a small bull ring where they practice the local form of bull fighting which only involves tearing rosettes from the bulls' horns. We go for a walk along the sandy lane accompanied by a large black dog who is fascinated by the wheelchair and will not leave Nick's side until his owner comes down the lane in a car and whistles him home. More motorhomes arrive until there are six in total. In the evening the wind gets up blowing sand everywhere so we spend it in the van.
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