Polo necks forever

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It’s only right and proper to start out by noting our thanks to everyone who sent us lovely messages of congratulations and such like following our marriage announcement. Very much appreciated indeed and we were nicely surprised by how excited and happy so many bods were upon hearing the news. You will no doubt be delighted to hear that divorce proceedings have not yet been started and to help celebrate our first week of being married, we took a wee jaunt by boat to St Malo in France.

The only other proper boat I had ever been on previously was from Oban to Barra a couple of years ago which was a bit of a stomach churning experience. Am unsure of technical sea faring term but choppy would be an understatement. Happily in contrast, our journey to St Malo was smooth and uneventful despite Robbie doing his best to plant doubts in my head… While waiting in the departure lounge I said that it seemed rather like waiting to board a plane but without the fear to which he replied ‘remember what happened to Titanic’. Lovely.

Anyway, we made it to St Malo trauma free and spent the day having a good old wander around the old walled city. We didn’t exactly gen up on information about the place so I am unable to dazzle you with interesting facts or figures but I can say with conviction that it is lovely and picturesque with lots of very grand buildings, cobbled streets and even a few beaches to choose from.

We put our rather rusty French skills to the test and almost passed with flying colours. At lunch Robbie stepped up to the challenge of ordering and we both smiled smuggly as the waitress walked away with her notepad having not had to utter a word of English. Our smiles faded slightly when she came back with 2 steaming cups of coffee in place of the 2 beers we thought we had ordered... Not quite sure how we managed that one given that ‘café’ and ‘Kronenbourg’ don’t sound remotely similar. On the up side it did mean that we got to look sophisticated (in my mind) drinking proper coffee in a proper French café of a Saturday afternoon and we did have a beer afterwards anyway. If only I looked a little more like Emmanuelle Beart… Maybe should spend our travel budget on large amounts of plastic surgery and move to France. Hmm.

After lunch we popped down to one of the beaches and whiled away the hours watching the world go by and getting sunburnt despite wearing factor 25. Need to correct that slightly. I got sunburnt. Not Robbie and not a single other person we saw looked even vaguely pink. I long not to be a shade of blue, grey or red but I fear it is not meant to be. Not that I want to be orange either but it would be so nice to not have such a luminous quality. Am sure I regularly dazzle passers-by whenever I dare to expose even the smallest amount of flesh. Perhaps it is some greater force trying to tell me that I need to buy more black polo necks…

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Photos

Luminous legs
But look, I'm not wearing black!