Well mon petite lupins

It's been an interesting sojourn. Started on a bit of a downer for Bish as he now comes to terms with the fact he really should have gone to specsavers so he can take with him the right passport.

Then whilst lost in Rouen insisting we stay left, meant a trip through an underpass, reported to be 2.6 metres high whilst the bus is 2.7 metres tall...o dear! However we survived with millimetres to spare. Although the French BMW driver behind us probably needed a change of underwear!

The spiritual home basked in hot sunshine. We were warmly welcomed and it was lovely to catch up with Joe and his good lady again. One problem....no swell. Not a wave in sight. Flat as a pancake, still as a mill pond, tranquil as the Dalai lama. Very frustrating given the 700 mile trek via Portsmouth, Dover and Dunkirk  to get there.

A man in need of a wave ....

Not even a wind to air the kite

A little peeved at lack of swell but not down heartened.

The obligatory selfie......

Still we had our bicycles to play with and well known bars to be reacquainted with - which we did with much gusto.

With Dutch chums at the Swordfish bar

Huites - of course.