The Lifeguards have arrived.

This year the lifeguards are dressed in striking red and yellow uniforms. For some reason they are all wearing rollerskates. This struck me as odd because the beach that leads to the sea, where people sometimes get into difficulty, is made of sand. It was also strange that none of them seemed to actually know how to skate but were wobbling from side to side with their arms outstretched, flailing at the boiling air. Another group of lifeguards were riding brand new shining bicycles. The lookout chairs dotted along the beach were empty. I am missing something here.

The local council has decided to dig up the beach as well as the main road now so there is massive construction of a bridge which will connect this village to the next village for pedestrians. They have been working on it on and off for months but seem to be making no progress. There are only about four workmen who spend inordinate amounts of time in the shadow of the pine trees or huddled together in the air-conditioned cab of a mechanical digger.

Lottery fever is running high here. The Saturday draw is worth 20 million euros. We have a ticket.