Back In The Day

The Obsessive Diary - July 24th

It was teeming. The gawping, sweating, covetous crowds bottle-necking in ancient alleyways, restaurant tables taking over the narrow streets, those intersecting passageways impossible to traverse now, in summer. St Tropez. Shall I do some, back in the day, I remember?

Back in the day I remember the ships in the harbour being tall mast pirate schooners, long wooden prows proud and anarchic in the slanting light. Yes, there were places to eat, port side, but as we walked back along the front last night, the lights were so bright, the music so loud, the guests so shouty it was impossible to believe they were really having fun. Back in the day, wandering up to La Pesquiere through cobbled streets, the fish market slopped down with sea water, the floor still slippery, I would hold my father’s hand and we would smile at passersby, there were so few. We would choose the boat we wanted. That one! Elegant in oak and three masts. We might stop first at Sénéquier for a drink.