It'll all settle down in a bit!

As you travel along the Cote D'Azur your eyes are drawn to towns that you have never heard of in the hope that they will be cheaper to stay in. Frejus rather than Saint Raphael was just one of those towns. 'Never heard of it, let's go there.'

 Just happens to be one of the oldest towns on this coast. Admittedly the old port was now a mile inland but we all begin to silt up after a while.

You can walk to Saint Raphael from the new port and you can walk from the new port to the old town of Frejus. We did both to earn our food and wine. Frejus has quite a bit of its Roman and later fortifications lying around. 

Apparently Napolean landed here after his Egyptian adventure. Quite a place not to have heard of.

Lovely little streets.

We had a pleasant wander around and eventually came to the square with an ancient church.

We strolled in and had a look around. Mrs K left to take a call from Daughter and I ambled out and had a look about the place. There was a sign that said Archaeological museum of Frejus 35 metres up the hill. I like to take a peek at old bits of pottery and jewellery that was painstakingly made by hand in a time when there was no telly. To consider that these objects adorned kitchens or were worn by people 2000 years ago does something for me.

Mrs K much prefers shops with things she can wear or adorn her kitchen with but she often humours me. Now I know my legs are short but we marched up the hill about 35 steps in my book and entered what could only be the entrance. We paid six Euros each and entered a pretty but empty cloister to the church. Where the hell were all the old bits. After a bit of a fruitless search we left. A further sign showed that my paces were a bit short and the entrance to the museum was round the corner. Only 2 Euros to enter. But of course it was Monday and it was closed.

After Frejus, which wasn't cheap, we made for Agay a small inlet that has mooring bouys in order to protect the sea grasses from anchor ploughing. We arrived a little early as there was no space due to day trippers but after a while a bouy became free and we picked it up.

Every now and again a strange hush falls over Mrs K and it is incumbent upon myself, firstly to establish the cause and then to seek a remedy, particularly if I am the cause. Now in this instance it was unclear. Here we were at a mooring costing only 20 euros a night, it was hot but swimming was available and we had plenty of food on board. That was most bases covered I thought.

 I was at a bit of a loss so I ventured the, sometimes dangerous, question, " Are you alright dear?"

 " No I'm bloody not." 

Now the mooring was slightly lumpy and in a strange sort of sideways on way. Waves usually come from the direction of the wind but in this instance they were coming from seaward and the boat was pointing at 90 degrees. Could this be my fault? Mrs K seemed to be pinning it on me but couldn't quite put her finger on why.

" It'll die down soon." I said reassuringly.

Everything settles down in the evenings.

We had a lumpy swim, followed by a lumpy shower, followed by a lumpy tea. " It'll settle down in a bit."

We rocked all night. The sort of rocking that is just beyond settling, That stops you from sleeping on your side, That's like being just tipped in to a roll before being righted. I didn't venture any further reassurance.

Morning told me that this natural phenomenon may have begun as no one's fault but  it was now entirely mine.

Should we move on dear?

Yes, the look said it all, we slipped and left.

Anchored for lunch besides a Cistercian Monastery, Apparently St Patrick was here for nine years before he sorted out the Irish.

Then in to Port Golfe Juan, the best kept secret on the Cote D'Azur, between Cannes and Antibes and only 30 Euros a night. Oh and not a bit of rocking. All has settled down.