We have been camping in a municipal camp site, surrounded by thousands of cicadas serenading at full volume. The noise reached a crescendo last night and then stopped abruptly. This morning Chris went to unlock our bikes and let out an unholy shriek. “There’s a creature on my bike, it’s like a praying mantis crossed with a spider!” Close inspection of said beastie showed no more than the empty shell of a cicada. Last night they all morphed into their adult forms, leaving behind a littering of empty skins on the trees, like discarded beer cans after a heavy drinking session. It must have been quite a party!
Once again we cycled into the old town (swerving carefully to avoid the slightly more swollen form of Mr Cane Rat) and attempted to get into the amphitheater. No such luck, another celebrity (this time a name we didn’t recognise) had monopolised the place.
Jeudis (Thursdays) in Nimes is market day and every square is fully kitted out with stall holders and musicians of varying abilities. We watched a few minutes of a crazy saxophone player who seemed more like a man wrestling a python (and failing miserably) than an artist. We tried Vietnamese food for the first time – an unusual choice perhaps given the setting, but an excellent one. Luckily the food was a lot better than our attempt to understand a Vietnamese-French accent.