More search for sea and sand between the toes on Saturday, after starting with a visit to the market.
I would have said French Market, with its calvados, fromage, huitres and smokey saucisson. Très magnifique as they might say.
Luckily our local friend was able to point out the tell tale signs of us being treated as tourists, although even I suspected something when the milk for the coffee arrived in a little cow shaped jug. Small children passing were saying 'La vache' - so I suppose it was still broadly educational.
Many locals were meeting and greeting one another and then with perfect timing, two people I'd met for the first time the previous day strolled right past our table. So we greeted one another in a proper French style and then they looked at our little cow and we looked at their leeks. You had to be there. Emily handed over the dozen eggs destined for the evening's omelettes and we headed for the coast with the lid down on the car.