I followed some excellent advice and went to the village pool at about 10am. At that time of day there aren't a great many people there and those who are tend to be on the serene side (later it's more populated and almost all are sylph-like bronzed school-students diving and flirting). And in the morning there's a little shade too. I was sorry I hadn't taken my camera, but I'm not in the habit of taking it to places where people I don't know go bathing. In fact I would have loved to have blipped the view up the hill from poolside, but perhaps I'll have to leave that one to Veronica, unless I'm very well prepared tomorrow.
At the pool I met the friend with whom I had spent five happy hours the other night and she asked if I would care to join her at the communal village Sunday lunch, and I was delighted by her thoughtfulness.
But by noon I was not on my best form, I felt a little faint, could barely eat, made my apologies and left for a siesta.
I now realise that this is a symptom of anxiety, most likely triggered by this being my final sleep here, so there's still packing to be done, and when I arrive I'll be facing a terrifying 40°C, then only a few days to settle before starting my 3rd new job, the one I didn't actually fancy at interview. Of course I feel a bit delicate.
This shot is taken from the seat where I have spent most of the last fortnight, advancing my embroidery and listening to Radio 4. It would be a pity not to record this view and I'm sorry that it isn't as crisp as I would have liked. Perhaps I'll re-take it in better light tomorrow.