Winter’s back here in SW France.

Just over a week or so ago, it was 28 degrees in biarritz and there were chicks with their baps out on the beach bronzing it up while blue-faced rollers crashed pleasantly in the pine resin scented, springtime offshore. Then the wind went north and it went really cold. The water went gray/brown and looked considerably less appealing. Everyone got sick, including me, suffering with a sore throat and reeking guts. Yesterday morning there was actual frost on my wetsuit that I’d foolishly left on the lanai of my apartment.

Timo went to England on a spring equinox tidal mission. I think he’s having fun, he sent me a texto this morning saying, ‘st agnes, in pub, after hours beers… hooligans and all. Now it’s time for a healthy english brekkie. England rules.’ Yes it does. He saw a pub dessert menu that was offering spotted dick, which i guess is amusing if you were previously unadjusted.

Anyway, if you’re as disturbed as we are by pictures of Archi’s naked torso that he seems to like putting up on the site, here he is today, clothed in his favourite outfit, the Candian Tuxedo.