South France - The Beach

In London we used to religiously run with Vick every day at the dawn time. I generally think that is the best time for running partly because of the evening air and light breeze underneath the sweaty T-shirt, partly bacause I am a photography freak and the setting sun gives the most pleasant lighting to my eyes. 

In France it became a little bit of a problem. Generous sun there starts shining at 7 am and doesn't stop until like 9 pm. This is when you already feel like a peach seed: drained and miserable. 

So we ran in the morning. Twice. 

The next day we've agreed that we need some motivation and decided to run down to the beach and stay there until lunch. So I strapped on my backpack looking like an absolute retard, which made Victoria laugh a lot! And we ran.
If you ever feel that your life is plane and boring try doing so me exercise under the sun in the middle of summer, preferably with a heavy-arse backpack. Than, straight after finishing the circuit jump into the cold water without taking off your clothes or even preparing your breath, just let the waves cover you completely. That's what we did and (without exageeration) this felt like the most revealing and satisfying moment of the holiday. I stayed swinning on the surface of the water for ages, Vick got scared of "not seing what's underneath her" so she waited for me on the beach.

We took a disposable camera with us because it's light and because we didn't care

We had breakfast in one of the beach caffes surronded by palm trees and sea songs. It was a (very surprisingly as I was wishind for the sun to burn itself for a couple of days before) windy morning and...ok so long story short: we felt great. Now pictures.

Despite the feeling of satisfaction that we have experienced after the run, we haven't risked doin the same thing ever again. Althought we had bike rides.

Vicky in the grape plantations. Chillin'