… morning where I was up and about before the second alarm.

It wasn’t quite such an early night as I was expecting, but once I’d gone to sleep I’d really gone, And it was the deepest, most comfortable sleep that I have had for quite some considerable time.

I had been on my travels too, at the airport in my red Cortina estate. Taxiing of couse, picking up a crowd of people and their luggage. And it was a tight squeeze to fit everything and everyone in.

After breakfast I had a little rest and then cracked on with some things that needed doing on the Internet. I ended up at the Siege of Sidney Street and the Aliens’ Act of 1905, and when you research into all of that you’ll find out that there is nothing whatever that is new under the sun. The names might change but the news remains the same.

After a lunch, I went for a walk.

It’s half-term here in France so there are loads of people about.

The tide was going out so despite the cold wind that was blowing, people were down on the beach having fun, although it wasn’t like summer of course.

I walked around the walls to the steps down to the back of the casino. There were even one or two people swimming out there farther around towards Donville-les-Bains. Sooner them than me, that’s all that I can say.

First stop was the bank. Check on the state of the bank accounts (which are not too healthy after my exertions in North America) and to liberate some cash. First cash that I’d drawn out for quite some considerable time.

Next stop was the library to fid out what courses and exhibitions are taking place. But a pair of more unhelpful librarians I have yet to meet. They looked at me as if I had just landed from the moon.

I went round onto the port afterwards. And it looks as if either Victress or Pluto is about to pay us a visit.

This last couple of days a huge pile of gravel has accumulated on the quayside and we know that they come in here every couple of weeks or so to pick up several thousand tonnes of gravel for the UK.

That’s about a good ship-load to go back to the UK. But it shows you what kind of bad state the UK economy finds itself when it even has to import its gravel from abroad.

That’s not all either. Here, there’s a pile (and I do mean a pile) of insulation, a good couple of lorry-loads of steel pipes, several pallets of water, and tucked behind a container is a Ford with a Jersey registration.

All of this can only mean one thing. And that is that Grima is about to pay us a visit too.

She’s the old Shetland Islands ferry that brings the scrap over from the Channel Islands and goes back with a return load of whatever it is that they need over there.

Back here I crashed out for an hour or two. Well away I was too, and I wasn’t particularly polite to the door-to-door religious person who disturbed me.

And later I went round to the public hall here. There’s some work to be done in the old town – some of the water pipes are almost 100 years old and still contain lead, so there’s a project to uproot and replace them.

Not that it interests me, but it’s a way of meeting people. Brigitte, one of my neighbours, was there too and we had a chat and went for a coffee. And a coffee was essential too. It’s the first time that I’ve ever been to a public meeting in France where there has been no buvette.

They have a lot to learn in Normandy.

My stuffed pepper was delicious. Boulghour, tomato and onions seasoned with black pepper and olive oil was the stuffing. With frozen peas, fresh carrots and pasta in tomato sauce it really was beautiful. I’ll have to try some more of that.

Having been out twice today, I didn’t go out for my evening stroll. That’s quite enough.

And tomorrow I’m off to the dechetterie (I hope that it’s open) and some more frozen food.