Stepping off the boat in Porquerolles at midday and watching the other tourists disperse, we chose to walk left, taking in the lovely Mediterranean as we went. Soon, however, we came up against a rocky ledge.
We could see beach on the other side, so inviting. So naturally, disregarding the existence of the pedestrian path we later discovered was nearby, we scooted and rock-climbed our way over. Alice Wang also expertly changed into shorts behind one of the shrubs.
Fail.
But the bit of escalade was worth it. Though the beach was crowded – ranging from elderly people to tanned Provençal lycéens out for sport practice – it was still calm, charming and tranquil, especially on as glorious a day as that one. It was as nice as any of the beaches in Martinique – nicer even, what with the radiant Mediterranean blue I love so much.
After relaxing for a bit on the beach, we went on a randonnée. We tried to follow the signs for the shortest path, but I’m not really sure where we ended up, in the end. In any case, we passed luscious vineyards (below), tree-lined paths and hills, and eventually came to the top of a cliff, where we saw a fenced-off power plant (was that what it was, Alice Wang? I need your memory!), which we climbed all the way around, at our own peril.
The view from up there, the cliffs jutting out into sprawling, homogenous blue ocean, reminded me of Martinique.
Upon coming down, Alice Wang and I both had to go to the bathroom, but we couldn’t locate any serviceable public toilets. So we ended up ordering boissons from a waterside seat at an overpriced café. I still thought it was pretty classy, though, next to the sea and all. I can see why sickly people used to come to the South of France in the olden days. Thalassotherapy, they call it, or something.
Can I just re-emphasize how freakin' blue the water was? It was really blue. As blue as blue.
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