Imagine a sunny, blustery day. You’re gazing at a long, sandy beach that seems to have no end. In the very far distance, the Pyrenees with Mount Canigou glinting with snow. In the other direction, the spit of land that is Cap d’Agde.
The sun is bright, there is not a single cloud and the wind is off-shore so the sea is almost calm, with just a few white horses further out. And along the entire beach, as far as the eye can see, not a soul. The place is empty save for the seagulls.
This is how the beach at Sérignan looked last week. Devoid of walkers, no tourists, primeval. What a glorious sight.
The Languedoc has so much to offer visitors in the winter. Space, light, magnificence. And then there are the cultural gems; the food, the Christmas markets, the concerts. One wonders why more people don’t come here out-of-season.
And then, far away, two little dots growing and forming. One man parcelled up in his padded coat and his faithful Labrador, trudging over the sand. They might just reach Agde by sundown.
