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Last night the weather looked a bit iffy, but this morning the wind and rain has gone and it is bright and sunny, but a nippy 11C
No one from the passion has bothered to say hello so we don't feel guilty to leave without buying. We set off for Honfleur only 21 miles away which includes a short ride on a free ferry and arrive around 11:30. The aire at basin de cabot is already quite full but we find a good space although there are none of the electricity points available. Some vans are trailing 60 feet or more of cable across the road but it's first come basis so nothing to be done. Luckily by the time Ali has unloaded the buggy the van next door is about to leave and the owner offers to plug us in as he disconnects his van, bringing a serious po-faced look to someone approaching with a selection of adaptors and a cable drum.
It's a short walk to the old harbour and in the sunshine it's picture postcard perfect. The old timbered and slate hung buildings glow in the sun and cast perfect reflections across the basin. Copper lanterns hang from wrought iron brackets, flags flutter in the breeze and artists sit around the harbour daubing for tourists. There is a festival for something here today and old wooden working boats are dressed with flags and bunting. A stall is seeking sponsorship and donations for a local man who is planning to set off to row around the world next year, his sturdy pod shape craft is on display with a map of his intended progress. [Note to self; look up 'optimist' in French dictionary].
All around are smells of seafood cooking in the restaurants that surround the harbour, and every one of them is virtually full. Huge platters of fruits de mer, langoustines, moules, cocquilles st jacques and sea snails are being devoured. The waiters and waitresses are amazing the way they scoot between doors and terrace tables with plates of food or trays of drinks straight across the two-way flow of promenaders, never slowing or weaving but apparently trusting some invisible shield to prevent collisions and not spill their load. We are lucky to spot a couple just leaving and grab a table. Service is on the slow side of relaxed but who cares? We are on the water's edge, people watching and enjoying a nice, relaxed meal in the sunshine. Yes, warm sunshine in October. That is until a parade of tree-throwing-transvestites in full 'Black Watch' garb come screeching past strangling their bagpipes. Some diners stand and applaud, then as they march off quay and the din fades around the harbour, the two Gay Gordons on the next table hold hands as they re-live all these men in skirts by playing back their i-pad video. Nearly two hours later we vacate our table and make our way into the small side streets where there are more timbered houses and small cafes and shops selling souvenirs and cidre.
We reach the banks of the Seine where a few small boats are moored but the cobbled wharves are too much for the buggy and we return to see more of the old town, including popping into a little maritime museum housed in the old seamen's church.
At 16:30 the inner harbour is still packed, and the bagpipes are still attracting a large crowd as we squeeze through the crowds at the helium balloon stall and the prawn-cooking demonstration and make our way back to the aire. The air in the aire is cooling rapidly as the sun weakens so we get back inside for coffee.
Early evening Ali pops back to the restaurant to use its free wi-fi for the wages job, then brings back a pizza for dinner. It's a quiet evening and good to have mains electric after three nights on passions. We stay up quite late watching a film and looking at photos. We also get news that French F1 driver Jules Bianchi has been badly injured at the Japanese GP.
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