I ended up sleeping on some scaffolding above the restaurant under the shelter of the roof. While it was nice to stay dry as rain hammered down, I woke up at 4 am, my face and hands puffy with mosquito bites. I spent another couple of tormented hours with mozzies whining around my face before I couldn’t take it anymore.

I went exploring and found a comfy sofa in the Darwin ecosystem to write my blog from. This area on the Eastern banks of the Garonne is an urban wasteland, formerly a military area and full of industry. Now it is being regenerated, art installations and hip restaurants embracing the graffiti and the run-down feeling. Amongst the new growth, migrant squats persist. The camps looked desperate and miserable in the rain.

I walked over the Jacques Chaban Delmas Bridge and spent a few hours wandering around Bordeaux. The place is an assault on the senses, especially after a few weeks at sea. Faces telling stories everywhere you look, beautiful architecture, bustling markets. The Monument aux Girondins, the Bordeaux Cathedral, flea markets selling the most random collection of junk.

By 4 pm, the tide had started to rise and it was time to leave. I waded down the slipway, up to my knees in stinking mud. A brass band was playing on the promenade and all of the city sounds converged on the river. A motorway followed the river out of the city and banks were industrial.

I relaxed as I left the noise of the city behind me and the banks became green. Just the sound of the wind in the trees and water streaming past debris caught on the banks. People were sat in their carrelets and waved at me as I whizzed past. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of a conical roof through the trees and some beautiful châteaux.

The tide slowed down and I pulled up on the river bank to pitch my tent. It was mercifully mosquito-free.