Aura and Lea had decided to explore the east coast of the island behind the reefs, but in addition to the above jobs list, I was slightly worried about the possibility of geeting 'trapped' behind the reefs with the return of the prevailing easterly wind. We also needed to do some more provisioning and Mick needed to get some prescription medication. So back to Le Marin it was.
We had a great sail back including tracking up the slightly contorted approach to the Le Marin anchorage. It provided an opportunity for the mate to get a good workout manning the Genoa sheets!....
The following day was Easter Sunday and so we deferred our day of labour in favour of taking a gentle country stroll across the island's southern Penninsula to Bais de Anglais, which of course, we had only just sailed from! Superficially, a somewhat peverse decision, but the wind on Saturday had been ideal for the sail to Le Marin whereas it was not on the Sunday and this way we would see more of the island.
So, in keeping with the finest traditions of eccentric English lore, we set forth like the proverbial 'mad dogs and Englishmen' at around 1100 for our hyke across the island. We had the foresight to take food and a little water and were confident in our expectations of finding refreshment stops along the way.
Unfortunately our pre-departure planning had been a little rushed - our route was actually rather longer than I had judged and rather more of it was on roads than I had realised and the road for the most part was busy with Sunday traffic and was devoid of a footpath, or as one notice we passed, quaintly put it, "Absence de accotment" "Absence of the shoulder". Where we wondered, had the shoulder gone?
However, we were comforted in the certain knowledge that it would therefore not be long before we came across a bar where we could refresh ourselves with a cold beer. After a couple of miles we came across a service station but passed it without stopping in the expectation of finding more decorative surroundings for consuming our much anticipated draft.
Another mile passed and we were now in the hottest part of a hot day and firmly of the opinion that surroundings no longer figured; we just needed a cold beer. Then, a few hundred metres ahead at a roundabout, a mobile roadside café hove into view. It became clear that all sorts of delicacies were available; from beer, to home made fruit juices and smoothies, to ice cream. I was pretty sure I could manage all three, but we decided to start with the beer. Our hostess was extremely talkative and friendly and the two bottles of beer stood there unopened on the counter for a good 5 minutes while she talked nineteen to the dozen only pausing momentarily when it became clear to even her, that we understood very little of what she was saying. Although, to be fair to Mick, he understood rather more than me.
Finally, she reached for the bottle opener... "Stop" said Mick. Her hand froze above the bottle. Mick looked at me. "Have you got any Euros"? The penny dropped! "No" I croaked. "I think I may have five" he said. Our hostess looked on puzzled - not surprisingly! Once our predicament had been explained she confirmed she didn't take cards! "I bet that bloody service station did" I thought. "Combien coûte la bière ?" Mick asked. "€4" came the reply!
So we shared a small bottle of beer and continued, a little crestfallen, on our way. "How could we be so stupid"?
To rub salt into our wounds, the footpath shown by google was fenced off and we had to continue another mile on the busy road with its absent shoulder. Then I misread the map and took a wrong turn up a footpath up a steep hill and only after 20 minutes of hard climbing did Mick spot my error.
Eventually we found the right path and were able to enjoy a pleasant walk through some woods and eventually at about 1400 we emerged on a ridge overlooking a crop of what looked young Maise above the Bais de Anglais....
There we had our lunch and nursed, what was by now very clear to us, a very inadequate provision of water.
After 30 minutes with time pressing on, we decided against descending into Bais de Anglais and continued on our way across the peninsula to a beach on the southern coast. It was well worth the walk...
We immediately donned swim ware and cooled off in the Atlantic Ocean.
Aftewards we continued southwards down the beach and then into a most strange desert like terrain of shingle with cacti of various types scattered across it, which then gradually morphed into scrubby mud/salt flats
This took a good hour to cross - sometimes the mud became so soft that we had to retrace our steps. Eventually however we emerged onto another beach lined with trees. Soon we came across tents and camper vans in the shade of the trees. We had stumbled across a campsite that seemed for miles along the beach. It seemed that thousands of locals were out on an Easter camp. We found an outside shower fixture and stuck our heads under the shower water to cool down. I even drank a little - fortunately to no ill effect. We also filled our now empty water bottles just in case.
A check of our route showed we still had 3 or so miles to go to the town of Saint Anne where we hoped we could get drinks, cash and order a taxi to take us the final 5 or so miles back to Le Marin.
On we trudged. By now it was around 1600 and we were both done in. We finally reached St Anne around 1700 (Google Maps' "mostly flat" annotation was way off the mark for the duration of the hyke).
We found just about the only shop open and bought beers, water and a variety of soft drinks before collapsing on a bench in the town square overlooking the bay to guzzle the lot.
Then we found a cashpoint and wonder of wonders, Mick managed to order a taxi over the phone. I don't think either of us would have made it back on foot!
We were back on the boat by around 1900 - thoroughly knackered. That night we slept as soundly as I have ever done!
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