Here comes the sun

Well, it didn't, so we set off to find it. Thanks to the Internet, you can now lie in bed with the laptop looking at webcams in order to decide where to go for the day. Actually we'd already decided to go to Sète, where we haven't been for years, and the webcam just confirmed that it wasn't raining there. Some people allege that Sète is "the Venice of the Languedoc". It's not. It's a real, working, slightly scruffy port, with big tuna boats and small trawlers that fish for cuttlefish, sardines, anchovies, and mackerel. The tuna boats spend most of their time tied up at the quay now, thanks to European legislation, while Chinese and other non-European boats empty the Mediterranean of tuna.

Armed with two cameras, I took loads of photos and had a hard time choosing a blip. In the end I picked this because it best conveys what Sète looks like on a sunny day. My blip assistant preferred the very first photo I took (it's got people in it!) or possibly this one. I made a set on Flickr of a few more.

The colourful buildings lining the canals give the town an Italian look. As we walked along the quay, S spontaneously bought tickets for a boat tour that was about to leave. It only took 45 minutes, just a quick trip down one canal and back along another one, but the young local guide was entertaining and had his small group of tourists falling for some tall stories. It was a good way of seeing parts of Sète we'd have missed otherwise. And he also pointed out to us the boat that used to be owned by one of Sète's most famous sons, Georges Brassens -- still in the family, and still used.

I'm not keen on chanson française in general, but I'll always make an exception for Georges. The French humourist Pierre Desproges said, "Brassens est un vaccin contre la connerie, mais il faut de temps en temps? une piqûre de rappel" ("Brassens is a vaccine against stupidity, but you need a booster jab from time to time"). His most popular song was Les copains d'abord, endlessly reprised at parties and fêtes. He was always an uneasy stage performer, but his deadpan delivery is inimitable.

After our tour, we chose a canalside restaurant based purely on its classic bistro decor. Well, they all had to be tourist traps in one way or another. And actually our lunch was excellent -- lovely fresh moules frites for me, and a copious and perfectly cooked mixed grill of fish (not including tuna) for S. Admittedly we were only about 100 metres from the criée where the fish comes off the boats, so there would have been no excuse for less than perfect fish!

After lunch, we walked along the canal to La Pointe Courte, an area pointed out to us by the guide on the boat. It was originally fishermen's huts which over the years have been transformed into more solidly built houses, on the original grid of 6 metre by 4 metre plots. Very charming and authentique, it reminded us a little of the chalets in Gruissan, except that people actually live here -- our guide's neighbours were drinking their aperos on the quayside when the boat passed by.