Hello Dear Reader,
Today we cycled a short distance to St Colomban and then onto the oyster farms at Po.
There are oysters or the remains of them on rocks.
Row upon row of oysters growing at different stages and ages.
They get pampered. Washed, turned, cleaned, shaken. Tiny mussels grow on them, get washed off only to bury and grow in the sand beneath. Locals furtle around in the sand with nets gleaning the mussels. I don't blame them; they're my favourite food.
It's no wonder they're expensive as they take ages to grow and a lot of labour. We only ever eat them in France as they are monumentally expensive at home.
I love poking around in rock pools, watching the birds, holding wringling tiny crabs.
DB loves tractors and was more interested in what the workers were doing. I dawdled and watched oysters and egrets.
We cycled back in muggy warmth and sat around in the garden reading.
The best days really don't cost much.
Until tomorrow,
Love Froogs xxx