It was my last day in France, I'd got back to Boulogne close to the ferry port and had been round the hypermarket to get some brief French underwear including a silky black thong. Stocked up with food I drove down to the beach and parked facing the sea and began to eat. It had been a good trip, I'd driven to Brittany and back, seen the Valley of No Return and the ancient stones of Carnac, I had swum both in a lake and in the ocean. I tasted the cheese, a little sausage, some fresh French bread and then a bit of salad, perhaps a litlle more cheese etc.
What better way to wait for a boat than to eat good food and watch the sun sink into the sea. Then the runner came past, dressed only in grey brown squarecuts that complimented his tan, he ran along the sea wall looking relaxed and confident as if he belonged there. He had appeared suddenly and it didn't take long for him to run out of sight but he had made the evening memorable and complete.
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