A wonderful holiday in two parts. The first week went something like this:
Saturday 5th: having collected the Sogwig from the airport late on Friday night, the three of us pack the car and the roof box and head south in warm sunshine for the 420km drive to La Favière. Four and a half hours later we arrive, collect the keys for the waterside apartments and settle in to await the arrival of the DenEfamily. Two hours after they are expected, I finally receive a phone call from the DenEdad, lost in a hire car somewhere between Marseille airport and La Favière without a map or a satnav. The trio finally reach their destination and the DenEmum, with calm control, relates the reason for the additional delay - her husband had hired a car with no idea from which hire company. The local mairie puts on a fireworks show on the water yards from our balcony to celebrate everyone's safe arrival.
Sunday 6th: a day of relaxation and recovery, interrupted by a short drive to Toulon airport to collect Professor Margarita, the final participant in the first week of celebrations. The weather holds, the Tinkler discovers the joys of sand castles on the beach and six adults to share his dinky cars with. Everyone enjoys a swim in the pool despite a non-functioning electronic key. The eating and drinking begin in earnest with dinner at La Rade, a quayside restaurant. The soupe de poisson earns a mere 6.0 but the dark chocolate mousse has the Sands of North Berwick in raptures.
Monday 7th: the first day of diving. A gentle start - a potter round La Formigue in the morning and an aborted trip to la Pointe du Vaisseau: the French military is carrying out test missile firing, so we make do instead with a gentle pootle up and down la Pointe de la Galère. Dinner in this evening - G&T aperitifs with delicious roast chicken and salad followed by a la bienheureuse special dessert. Cherry clafoutis, mmmm.
Tuesday 8th: a great day of diving - a trip to the Rubis laid on by the dishy Bormes Plongée boys by special birthday request, followed by the delayed rendezvous with the groupers at la Pointe du Vaisseau in the afternoon. Another restaurant dinner in the evening, a stroll out to an old favourite, the Copacabana Beach, where the DenEson discovers the delights of digital cameras and spends the evening amassing an entertaining portfolio of interestingly composed photos. The soupe de poisson earns a 7, alas no mousse au chocolat but the colonels provide cool consolation and leave everybody decidedly happy.
Windy Wednesday 9th: the big day dawns fresh and rather breezy. The boat surprisingly makes the trip out to Port Cros, battling through the wind and big waves, and we enjoy a lovely dive on the ski slope and pinnacle of la Pointe de Montremian. It is post dive that the problems begin. Large swells make getting back on board rather interesting. The more sensible among us hang about at three metres waiting for a free ladder and the boat to swing back towards us. Others with little legs and a suspect finning action are swept away by the wind and waves at the surface and are rescued by a heroic divemaster. A few poor travellers spend the trip back to port looking distinctly green but manage to keep their breakfast down, only to see it make the return journey as soon as we reach the haven of the marina.
Diving for the afternoon is cancelled, so we all go swimming in the pool even though the non-functioning key is still theoretically bars entry. In the evening I receive gifts including a silver topped marmite jar and an evening at the Ritz, sit back, watch and am waited on while my friends cook a bountiful birthday meal. While we sup caipirinhas and nibble breadsticks and dip-dip, The Margarita Man and the Soggy Diver prepare salmon, cream cheese, tomato and mozzarella toast for starters. Then the DenEmasterchef conjures up a marvellous main course - succulent steak and salad - while for dessert ma bien-aimée creates another specialty, the birthday boy's favourite, tasty tarte tatin. All washed down with champagne and wine. Delicious. An excellent evening ends with chocolate birthday cake and stuffed but satisfied tummies.
Thursday 10th: the wind still howls, the yacht riggings still clink, and the diving is cancelled again. We spend the morning on the windswept beach, where the DenEboy and the builder-gardiner build boats and planes respectively in the sand for the DenEtinkler, and la bienheureuse spends hours driving the sand-boat at its owners request. In the evening I enjoy birthday meal number two. Dinner out this time, at the Brasserie du Port with the mecs de Bormes Plongée who had graciously accepted the invitation to help celebrate my 50th year and our 9th year of diving with them at La Favière. They surprise me with a lovely gift - a marvellous picture of the Rubis, made of up 80 separate underwater photos. A great time is had by all, the soupe de poisson and the mousse au chocolate both earn an 8, and le beau belge is persuaded to take us to La Gabinière the next day despite being fully booked.
And so a great week ended. We ate our final dinner back in the Brasserie du Port with the opening French game of the World Cup going on in the adjoining restaurant, and spent the remainder of the evening cleaning and packing. Saturday it was the return home for some, and the trip to Corsica for the rest. The latter group were up at 6am to finish squeezing three sets of dive kit, four sets of luggage and four adults into one small car and roof box for the 8.30am ferry crossing from Toulon to Ajaccio. Somehow we made it…
