Back from my French hols feeling de-stressed, with what would have been a striking tan if wasn’t for a few very prominent tan lines.
I have had a lot of ice-cream (age does not lessen the disappointment of having a chocolate scoop of ice cream fall from your cone), too much pink wine, and as every other vegetarian, shit loads of oysters and other fancy crostacea. Don’t hold it against me tho, I paid a fair price for my temporary hypocrisy, and I’m not talking Euros.
Best part of the hols besides the overwhelming amount of art deco buildings, was the amazing kayaking trip, 18km of (small) rapids, with the occasional intimidating wave. Large rapids that require careful manoeuvring had been cautiously avoided, but I did jump from a 5mt high rock. Or was I pushed? No, I think I definitely jumped of my own will.
Next hols in 9 weeks, the countdown has already started.

Halfway there – that was the easy part.

Halfway there – that was the easy part.
I did it.










