Tuesday

I figured that you’ve already seen enough pictures of the walls of Aigues Mortes, so I focused on more important things.

Such as bakery delights. These cakes may come in delightful and enjoyable colors, but they were made of nougat. Nougat with chunks embedded in it. Blehh.

Fun fish perhaps, but would you pay five bucks for one?

Mr. Duck welcomes you to the boat. He looks suspiciously like the duck from Avignon.

Spacious and roomy.

These people were really annoying. First of all, they brought a baby on a seafaring voyage. Then, they kept fussing with the darn umbrella stroller attachment, when any second we were going to start moving and the sun would change position anyway.

Ahh, the Pescalune II. This was not our boat. The promoters for our (rival) boat lured us in by promising a docking excursion to see the Camargues bulls.

Horses and a fort!

This was about the point when the sky began to darken and we felt pats of rain on our poor, naked, unprepared arms. The day had started so nicely. Quel calamity.

Dad and I braved the docking excursion because Mom was a sissy and stayed below deck. Here are some ranching boys.

Tending to the regional bull population. What’s nice about Camargues bullfighting as opposed to Spanish bullfighting is that the bulls don’t fight to the death.

I could make a very humorous observation about what this is, but I run a family site here.