It turns out that statement is only half true.
The beach itself is a forgotten strip of fine sand on the farthest possible point of land after L’Escalet, protected by the entirety of Cap Camarat from the obnoxious tourists and obscene costumes of Pampleonne. And it is beautiful.
But, it turns out, I have been here before. After Ludo’s father died we came here to eat, and there was a dead seagull. I was six and remember nothing about it except the stories…
Although, as I hiked back to the car, I saw a tiny boat delivering ice cream to the children on a nearby beach, touring the coast the way an ice cream truck circles a neighborhood. Seeing it I was overwhelmed by déjà vu. (Family, is it true? Have we had ice cream delivered by boat before?)
This time, we took a picnic... Somethings are better explained in pictures:
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