Well, Saturday was excursion day. To Mont Saint Michel. Remember? I told you. It was a nice sunny, if blustery, day for it. Instinct told us to go sit at the back of the coach. We looked cool, even if it was just in our minds. We got to Mont Saint Michel, and we had to try and have a group photo taken. I'll be honest, France cannot do anything right. If this was an English excursion, we'd have had people shouting "tall people at the back" etc etc, we just got told to get in and get down. Anyway, long story short, I'm pretty sure it failed. Mont Saint Michel is lovely, it just has two flaws: it is REALLY expensive, and it is full of tourists. The town is lovely, with lots of narrow rues and the like, but it has alot of steps. From the top though, the view is quite nice. A pleasant day was had by all, until we returned to the bus. It had been sat in the sun all day, and had basically turned into an oven. So, still sat at the back, we spent the entire journey back sat looking very unaccustomed to such heat, fanning ourselves with whatever we could find. My fan of choice was a postcard. Which will be sent off, and whoever receives it will learn of it's previous function.
In the evening, I purchased a rather overpriced bottle of Martin (Rosso, naturlich) for pre-drinkies at Maire's. I remember more or less downing the second half of it. Then it becomes a blur. I definitely remember ordering two glasses of Merlot in town, and knocking over a chair. Most of the night was just me being told to shush.
I learnt my lesson. Sunday involved a terrible headache/hang over, and there was definitely sick upon my return to the ghetto. In the sink, obv.
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