Red Flag Day

It being a Thursday we were advised to visit the twice-weekly artisan market. An idiotic outing really - we had no interest whatsoever in buying guff. I’ve done my two postcards.
Anyway it was on our way to get the bus out of town. Well that was the plan. But the half hourly bus rolled up - completo! Bloody tourists everywhere. Back to the taxi rank and off to the Dunas. But no swimming - a red flag day. We had a coffee and lay in the beil behind a dune, escaping the blowing sands.
Back to the Hotel to lounge and dip and start a new book - Paul Lynch’s Prophet Song. Couldn’t get into Orbital at all. And horror of horrors, we made friends after dinner. We may go out to eat tomorrow to escape them.