Our Shack by the Sea in Bandol, France sits maybe 100 metres inland from the beach and perhaps 25 metres above sea level. If we are not at the beach (which is very often) I am looking out from our terrace or through windows at the beach.

 

I have observed a daily rhythm to the beach, so much so that you could more or less set your watch to it. It is comforting.  And I have also noticed that some days, or most days, the sun seems to move across the sky. Go figure. It plays havoc with my shade management.

With all that said, I share with you the timetable of a day at the beach:

617 am – Through the open window of our bedroom, I  hear the city tractor going back and forth across the beach in preparation for the day ahead. It is well taken care of. Thank you Town of Badol.

734 am – With the last cool air of the day, the “usuals” start to arrive to take their spots under the shade of the palm trees or otherwise. There are the sun people and the shade people. This is the retirement crowd and it delightfully quiet. A few test the water for daily temperature and meduse (jellyfish) scan and others are happy to sit on their blankets or in their chairs reading or quite respectfully chatting with their neighours.

753 am – The distinctive “ting ting ting” of metal mallot banging umbrella poles into the sand at the private part of the beach can be heard echoing up the hill.

807 am – The “water walkers” come by, waist deep walking en mass a good 600 metres or so one way from one beach to another. They are a hearty bunch and partake in the water walking seemingly year round. And a few weeks ago, there appeared  to be an International Jamboree of Water Walkers, each group with a distinct colour water shirt and cap.

824 am – A few, myself included are out for swim. I swim the buoy line which is about 200 metres end to end. It is often still and glass,  as the wind does not come up for another 67 minutes or so.

1011 am – The beach comes more alive as families make their way down to claim their real estate. Inflatables are inflated, toys are strewn on the sand, bodies are lathered with sun screen and mats and chairs are unfoled from all shapes and sizes of carry-all wagons. It certainly gets louder, but never crazy other than inevitably that “one” person who always seems to ruin for everyone, and at that, usually an adult.

1113 am – The first wave of seadoo renters buzzes the beach outside the buoy line. Schmendricks.

1237 pm – Lunch. By now it is just too hot and the beach thins out. People go home for lunch and a sieste. It is hard work being at the beach

307 pm – Families start coming back to the beach

327 pm – MaxxiBeignets, a rolling dolly of sweets followed by the guy selling shouchu et pralines (candied nuts) appear to sell their wares

513 pm – afternoon and evening picknicking commences

807 pm – Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays there is live music at the private beach that wafts up the hill. Usually but not always it is a chanteuse and load enough to be heard on our terrace, without being overpowering.

1121 – Lights out, but with window open and a little breeze, we can sleep hearing the waves lapping at the shore at our beach.

Day is done, gone the sun,

From the hills, from the lake, from the skies

All is well, safely rest.

God is Nigh