Life's A Beach

The beach looked inviting but it was off to tea with our old housekeeper friend, Patricia. Sitting in her garden underneath the fig tree. She loves English Breakfast (British if you’re from Scotland*) tea but cant get any decent stuff in France. So we take a carrier bag full of boxes which should last her a year. 
 
Then onwards to admire the oyster shacks at high tide. I never tire of the flat bottom boats bobbing next to the rickety sheds along the creek. (See extra).
 
* What are you Scottish and Welsh Blippers going to call the tea after you’ve got your independence when Boris has destroyed the Union?!