Content in Collioure

 We are at Collioure by the seaside, in the atmospheric Hotel des Templiers.  The picturesque setting and ruined 12^th century forts and watchtower around us inspired Henri Matisse, and reproductions of his work are everywhere.   Reaching this idyllic seaside spot involved a meandering drive by marshy lagoons and non-descript commercial strips.  Then the countryside opened up to the most dramatic scenery of vineyards and olives.  The highway seemed lonely, with little traffic and no one around for miles – not a building, or even a barn.  This made it the more surprising to see hookers along the side of the road.  Picture a woman dressed in heels and purse, smoking,  sitting on a wooden chair on the shoulder of a country byway.  A more incongruous sight, I can’t imagine.  The first time I noticed one of these gals, I thought she was waiting for a bus.  Now I know better.  I couldn’t help hoping that one of them would think to bring along a good book.  It could be a long, albeit scenic, wait.

This morning, Doug is taking a swim – his second dip on this beach.  The water is rich with sealife and the sand is like a pillow.  The temperature is that of a perfect day in Victoria- 28c, clear blue skies and  just the hint of a breeze. The rich Mediterranean colours dominate and there is clearly some Spanish influence as we head south.

There are many eateries in this town, but our guide book (bought at Russells, second-hand and ten years old) suggested only one place, which was at the next beach.  Would it still be in business a decade later, we wondered? Well, it was and we were lucky to get a table. Many guests must have been reading the same old guide.  Our seafood dinner was very delicious and worthy of a photograph.

Our little room has classic French doors opening onto the street life below.  And it has a bathtub! But, naturally, no facecloths. 

The main excitement yesterday was believing that Doug had lost the car keys.  Happily, they were found flung on the bed.  In a short while, we will head for Barcelona, which we understand to be the theft capital of our journey.  So, my moneybelt thingy is tied to my bra – let’s see them get that!