Boulogne basks in a Mediterranean heat wave. Shutters are closed, to prevent rooms becoming saunas. The streets are still. People seek shade.
The boats around Stargazer are returning to either Denmark or Sweden - where Stargazer was built. A Nordic fleet bound north. Our talk is of forecasts. The choice is motoring, in variable winds, now; or sailing, in strong headwinds, later. Or waiting, for a better alternative - and taking advantage, of a good drying day, to do the washing.
Chores done, I set off into town, towards the tall dome on the hill. Tantalising glimpses of it are visible across the city. Peeping between rooftops one moment, gone the next.
A tall, narrow, arched gateway allows me through the old city walls - which crown the hilltop.
Within lie cobbled streets. . . .
. . . . grand buildings of state. . . .
. . . . and the enigmatic dome, of the cathedral.
Fountains gush cool water.
And statuary surveys the bustling scene below reflectively.
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