A bad morning for me after a sleep challenged night. We had a quick bite in the View buffet before catching the tender to Cannes for our wine and cheese tasting trip to Château de Saint-Martin. No one looked at our tickets at all, instead the French woman guide called names off a list and relied on expected numbers. It felt a little disorganised. A long journey there and back but French roads are better than English ones, and the coach had reasonable air conditioning on this hot day. There's a tradition at "Château de Saint-Martin" of mothers only bearing daughters and so the winemaking being passed down matrilineally. It was a competent woman and her 11-year old daughter who talked us round, and handed out cheese and a variety of wines for us to sample. They mature some of the wines at least in large stone 'vats', nowadays coated with epoxy. Discussion of the fruitiness and flowery scents of the wines went over my head. Virginia and I escaped the shop without spending anything. We were worried about being back in time for our first sitting - we did make it in time but I again suffered going through security having to remove my belt. Must get a plastic belt. A choppy tender ride back to the boat, and exciting taking that final step between tender and the Bolette. We were the only couple at table 79, I felt sorry for the waiters. We sat right by the window but it felt like being in a greenhouse even with the blinds down so we moved to the end. I hope we haven't given Ted and Joan my cold that Virginia has now. Went to another Bolette Theatre Company show this evening, supposedly based on a Netflix show "Bridgerton", the costumes perhaps but the songs not so. The players were as energetic and committed as ever.

A long pilgrimage by coach to worship at Monet's house and garden in Giverny. This is a very popular site, and the narrow paths were packed making getting round difficult to impossible. Pilgrims had come from all round the world. The gardens are well tended and there is a lot to see, the Japanese gardens over the road (accessed by an underpass sponsored by a Japanese) are very photogenic. In the house you see shadows left by Monet. I did wonder why everyone had come to this temple of Art. Was it in the hope that some greatness might rub off, like people visit temples in the hope holiness will rub off? Or was it on the official bucket list? Our guide explained some details of Monet's life, but she didn't try to explain what impressionism was. You don't need the theory to appreciate the art, but I felt despite being where Monet painted masterpieces any appreciation going was superficial. The shop was big, and well stocked - we got Monet place mats and a fridge magnet and socks. I wonder what Claude Monet would have made of his pictures on shopping bags. Perhaps he would have been pleased. Escaping from the scrum we had a drink and creme caramels at a nearby cafe, kudos to them for catering for the language limited Brits.

We docked at La Seyne sur Mer then after a very early breakfast caught coach 5 (moving from coach 4 which we were at the back after they filled the coach without counting how many were on it) to Aix en Provence. Pretty scenery with hilltop villages and vineyards (first in France but the original grapes killed off by phylloxera worm so replaced from California and Texas). Aix is an interesting place, rundown mansions slowly being restored by Unesco. Apple store like a glass pavilion on Mirabeau Avenue (Mirabeau was a dubious character who bought it during the French Revolution). One of our party tried sitting on a rising bollard which slowly descended under him and he slowly fell to the ground! Aix has artistic connections - Cezanne walked each day to paint hills and his path is now marked by gold nails in streets. Emile Zola and Darius Milhaud and others have plaques to them. On our tour of the artistic streets we saw an elderly Frenchman 'park' by bashing his well damaged car into another. We had some free time after the walk to the cathedral, and patronised some biscuit shops. As elsewhere being offered samples to taste forced us to buy something to take back for work and family. The biscuit shop sold empty boxes which you could fill yourself. We had a drink in a cafe on the Mirabeau avenue, I admired the electrical wiring in the section we sat in.