SÈTE

LA VIE EN SÈTE

They call it the french Venice, and I believe it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but because I still haven’t been in Venice I’m not totally sure. A small coastal city which was our third visit point onboard of Shipsomnia, the relaxed sunny afternoon after three days of non-stop music all the passengers and tribulation were looking for.

I did what they told me; I ate a crêpe, I walked by the canal, I laid by the sun in good company for a drink, and from nowhere, a sport show of a medieval quality started right by the canal: two boats manned by at least ten men each, using some kind of big and large sticks I haven’t taken the care to search for their name, starting to throw each other at the water. The stronger was left standing, and the whole spectacle repeated over and over again until the boat was sans hommes. Medieval quality, no doubt.

That’s how I summarize Sète: small, gorgeous, quiet, sunny and unexpected. Yes, of course this isn’t Paris or Lyon, but I believe its warm and simple charm deserves a visit to eat a crêpe (or two, I don’t judge).