Day spent swimming off (and reading on) a rock ledge under Les Calanques, then driving back to Marseille(s) where the Peron Hotel now has a room free! mark s wanders city alone looking for fruit and meets the most thuggish-looking cat in europe, which hides behind a thistle when he tries to photograph it. The Peron seems to be home to mysterious unidentified Graham Greene activities and types (inc.several little old ladies, a man in a panama hat and a giant photo of the late M.Peron on the dining room wall), plus also a dusty stuffed duck tied to the landing wall. When we try and phone home, we have the correct code for phoning UK from France, but not the correct code for phoning 2004 from the 1930s. Over breakfast next Day, the management first plays ‘World Football Chants Done Disco-Fashion’, then ? to our infinite glee – the Authentic Sioux-Celtic Red New Age Stylings of our war-painted buddies from Le Ciotat. But only one day to go :(