We went to Jonzac and wandered from Les Carmelites to the château, while I pointed out the various possible music venues: Piano Bar, Café 31, Carmelites hall, Theatre Geoffroy Martel. On the way back towards the car we were seduced by the meringues in the window of the little cafe next to the Coq d'Or. When you try them, remember that, light and delicious as they are, they are also the size of a football: one between two of us would have been ample.
In the evening we stopped for a meal at Le Patio on the docks at Mortagne-sur-Gironde. J had an enormous pot of moules, I had steack poivre, and very good they were. There was some excitement at the next table when the bread being thrown to the begging ducks was caught by some huge fish.
After coffee, it was time to experience the marshes by sunset. We drove down the little coast road, past the ruined house with a full-grown tree inside it, and saw hundreds of herons, storks, kestrels, cows, and what I thought was an owl but J reckoned wasn't, as it had curly wingtips.
For the first time, I followed the road all the way and discovered it goes to the water's edge, where one of the small streams meets the estuary. The tide was right in and very high, washing over some bushes, but not as high as the base of the stilted fishing-huts. There was something very atmospheric about the huts in their setting of ruffled water, reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier. Some of the huts and their nets are in good repair, and others have been left to fall down; they range from completely new, through mature (with curtains) to only a skeleton. It looks like a hut-and-net version of The Seven Ages of Man speech from As You Like It.
The sun was sinking into the water, and there was just enough cloud to make patterns of blue and purple in the red. J spent some time collecting photos of huts, sunset, and a wind turbine in the distance (links will be provided when they have been uploaded).
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