We are on the beach again, the sun is out although it is embroiled in a war against a fierce wind. I have taken shelter beside a natural sculpture of rocks. BB plays merrily in the sand in front of me, building ‘poop pies’. The twins and their Dad are embracing culture and playing boules.
As per the norm on our French holiday everyone is having a blast.
Yesterday after a lazy morning by the pool we decided to take advantage of the bikes for hire and spread out further afield.
BB chose a bike for us to share. I was nominated to pedal and she opted to sit in the back where she could spank my back if I needed whipping into shape.
Everyone else decided to ride solo.
He who helped create them took point, I brought up the rear.
This meant everytime Twin Boy tried to do gymnastics on his bicycle I got to witness and experience heart wrenching terror.
Sometimes that kid goes from being super bright to downright dopey.
He waited until a French van carrying baguettes was by his side to demonstrate what he calls ‘starfish on a cycle’. And it was only when cars were passing that he deemed it necessary to remove both hands from the handlebar.
I showed the French passer bys the true strength of an English mothers voice in a rage.
My throat is a little dry today.
However, my son’s antics aside the bike ride was lovely. We headed out to a famous lock a couple of miles away from Vias Plage.
Vias was beautiful, a quaint town, rich with a French flavour. Tiny streets hid secret boulangeries, exquisite coffee shops sat on street corners and cheeky bars beckoned us in.
Vias is worth a visit if you appreciate architectural splendour. Many doors are from the seventeenth century, and the structure of Saint Jean Baptise Church is one to be marvelled at. Also wine lovers may be keen to know that you can visit Vias’ wine estates, tasting is welcomed and the history lesson free.
We cycled back alongside Canal du Midi, looking for otters all the way but were sadly disappointed. We did spot a huge amusement park which the kids looked at in rapture. However disappointment kicked in early when my basic French translated that it doesn’t open for another week.
Inside I was a little overjoyed, some of those rides looked terrifying!
Last night was a sedate affair, a mexican meal on the strip, a game of Snap with the kids and a 10pm bedtime. The rain we have feared all week finally arrived and I drifted into slumber with the rain singing a lullaby on the roof over my head.
As daybreak dawned this morning, the only proof of rain lay in small puddles and the sun was shining again.
Two and a half days until home. I can’t describe how sad I will be to leave.
*We are reviewing the Al Fresco experience, and loving every second. For more information or to help find the perfect parc and to book, please visit www.alfresco-holidays.com or call 08436 362586