Monday 27th September 2010: Carnon to Marseillette nr Carcassonne FR.
Waking up next to the canal was a real treat, and we awoke to find most places along the canal filled with fishermen who were taking the challenge to catch their daily fish. I knew the Pilot wanted to try this out as well, only I was desperate to get back to the beach after our wonderful day yesterday. I wanted him to come with me, although I knew that a few hours apart would help us.
He had enough bite from yesterday, so I got on my bike trying to buy the necessary requirements for catching more crabs to eat. I went back to the little shop on the corner and managed to find a snorkel and mask that could help us in the future ‘free-food foraging attempt’. I also bought a child’s bucket and spade. It may be what the crabs need to be carried home in!
I sat by the rocks and gazed over the beach. The biscuit coloured sand that was hugely populated yesterday only had a handful of people dotted around. They looked like washed up shells. I had to remember that it was a Monday morning. Everyone would probably be at work unless like they were on holiday. I have to say, it was a great way to start a Monday!
I phoned my mum and managed to catch up with her properly. We talked about things that only we can talk about and shared ideas and concerns. It was great to hear her voice. I wanted to talk to her longer, but I was afraid that she would miss the bus. She was going to meet my Dad in town, then travel back together on the bus. Since they have both retired they love going on the bus. It probably takes them twice as long, but they say they get to see things that you don’t get to see when you’re driving. Very true!
It was creeping up to midday and I knew that we would be leaving for Carcassonne this afternoon and I didn’t want to waste my time at the beach. With my snorkel, my bucket and spade, I was sure that something was on its way.
30 minutes later, my back was aching after crouching in the rock pools and I was being lapped up by sea water every few seconds. I had only managed to catch one crab, and although I was proud at my attempt, we couldn’t have a suitable lunch with this. Another 30 minutes passed whilst each crab I spied scuttling off down a tiny crack. I have to give them credit, they are really clever creatures, and not stupid either. The ones we caught yesterday were tightly squished into rocks; it took us two and the skewers to prise them out! It was much better catching them between us. To catch them by myself, I had to have a small child’s spade tucked into one side of my bikini bottoms and a plastic rake tucked into the other with the bucket over my arm trying not to let it drop. Ursula Andres in the Bond film I certainly was not by any standard!
I decided that enough would be enough, and I had been blessed to visit this place twice, I should make the most of the sunbathing facility. Over the past few months, being in vest tops, I have managed to gradually develop a nice brown tan, which is nicely topped up every few days. But my white bits are still white. Not much chance to expose them, its not like I have a body I would be proud to parade like a playboy bunny! So, with greater confidence because there was nobody here, I walked along the beach and found a spot. If I had thought about my strict ‘no getting burnt’ principle then I would have remembered that my white bits hadn’t received the necessary build up all of these weeks, I was literally toasting myself, only I wouldn’t realise it till hours later, and the lobster flesh that was now in place of the white would piss me off for most of the evening and all of the night!
I returned with another box of bite for the Pilot who had already caught three fishes and was aiming for the fourth. His line would be tugging, but before the fish would be lifted out of the water, it would eat the bite and then go off. He was not happy. Whilst waiting for him I saw some discarded fishing line by the side of the canal, it was tangled in an awful mess, but it took me time to untangle it, attach it to a stick and have a fishing rod all to myself. Standing next to the Pilot, I looked like a little kid trying to imitate her dad! Anyway with a rusty washer as a weight and a bit of crab leg I caught earlier, I was able to catch 4 more crabs. Little ones mind you. We decided after cooking them that it’s not worth catching anything smaller than your hand.
Time was moving on, and we had to make a move. The Pilot managed to catch the next fish and we set off for the journey to Carcassonne.