A couple of days ago as we wandered along the local beach a woman hailed us. "How's the leg?" she enquired from her sunny spot beneath the campsite wall. We wandered across to where she was sitting on the sand resting against the warm, sunlit wall and casually flicking a small blue rubber ball towards the waves; each time it was dutifully retrieved by her manic looking, but amiable collie. We immediately recognised the friendly stranger as someone we had camped beside when we stayed here previously a couple of months ago. In the ensuing conversation Gill assured her that the sprained knee was on the mend, sympathy was suitably forthcoming regarding our latest mishap, and the topic moved on to swapping travel plans. Whereas we would be moving-on in a day or two, the woman explained that as she was partly funding her travels by renting out her house, she would not be heading home until May or June. Given that when we arrived originally in late November she already appeared well established as a long term resident, it seems that she must have been nested here in Punta Braccetto for eight or nine months.
|hibiscus hedged paths|
|great individual facilities and direct beach access.|
|Punta Braccetto beach|
|complete with aged jogger|
|boules is not merely a past-time - honour is at stake!|
|8.30am. - morning rituals - beep! beep! PANE!|
So for the moment I think we are likely to remain inveterate wanderers, happy to observe and move on. We have spent this morning thinking about where next - the mosaics at Villa Casale, the temples at Agrigento, maybe a lunch-stop at a quayside restaurant in Sciacca or Secca Grande, it's almost a plan! The tyre pressures and oil has been checked, windscreen wash topped-up, white water tank filled and grey water emptied. Tomorrow we are heading off. There is no tonic quite as good as the blue yonder.