Sun on the tent; oh lord it's work. Corsican Battle to get motivated, I can hold my own against Angela now, she taught me the game in the first place so I feel proud. Angela asks to be placed on a different beach today because she's not making money at the one where she works now and it's too big, meaning miles and miles of walking around with the stupid chariot. We drop her off at a small beach where there are lots of families and a large campground nearby, guaranteeing a steady amount of traffic and what promises to be a better income. I start work at 3:30 p.m., weird after all those days doing nothing to supposedly be working again. I meet an American art dealer who lives in London and his mom, I think I scare them a little because my English-starved brain latches onto the conversation and I am practically sputtering I'm so excited to speak in my language.
A young man accompanied by two beautiful blonde little girls buys ice cream from me and asks if I feel like conversing a bit when he hears my accent. His name is Clement and he works in a small, quaint hotel on the island which is run by his stepfather.
The girls are his stepfathers' daughters, part of his job is to babysit them in the afternoon and they usually want to hang out at the beach so he finds himself babysitting and suntanning at the same time, not a bad situation. I finish the day having made 15 euro, not exciting but enough to eat for a couple days.
Back at the campground the Korean/French couple change their tent placement and end up right next to us, it's strange to eavesdrop on their conversation, the Korean girl's French is so heavily accented I have trouble deciding if it's French or some new Euro-Asian conglomerate language, refreshing. The two have a quarrel within an hour or two of settling in, christ not again....
Dumpster diving in the evening yields a beach chair, a nice iron skillet, and a brand-new reusable shopping sac.