Yesterday was the coldest day we've had so far... So we decided to go to the beach.
It felt vaguely reminiscent of those 'summer' family outings to the coast, armed with cheese sandwiches that became cheese and sand sandwiches, a bucket and spade, waterproofs and the promise of a Mr. Whippy for good behaviour.
Except our trip had a French makeover. Obviously. Rather than 5°C it was 15°C. Beige trench coats replaced the usual waterproofs. The cats were loaded into the car (is this normal pet-owner behaviour?) Alongside a baguette, foie gras and a couple of steaks.
On y va!
I felt the need to defend my Anglo-Saxon heritage, by dipping my tootsies in, thus proving i was impervious to cold temperatures. I am not. It was cold. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Yet, sporting a pokerface Lady Gaga would kill for.
Don't be fooled. Aleyna still had her shoes on.
And she's Swiss!
In true British summer style, we fired up the BBQ. Unlike your typical British summer BBQ, it was not raining. Nor was there a dutiful dad stood over the BBQ with an umbrella to protect the sausages. And it was steak. Sanglant.
Eeyore
Laughing my ass off!
Aleyna, Me & Mère Française!
Somebody then pointed out we'd arranged ourselves (and our converse) in the colours of the French flag.
So i took a photo!
P.S. Happy ?th Birthday to Mama & Papa Hew. Santé!
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