Hump

Camels. In the market. Now that's not something you see every day. Not many of them to the pound, as some local probably quipped, but in French and with non-imperial measures.

We shopped, then lunched royally on oysters (the boys that is, including briefly but memorably CarbBoy, who I think will be following Uncle C's advice to not try again until he's 35...) There was loafing, napping, fire pit building (me, in the burning sun), showering (me, obviously), cook out, chat and very well earned sleep.