Flamingos!
In the wild!
In France!
Who knew?
Anyway, after hearing the stories and seeing the postcards, we set out in search of flamingos. Our quest brought us to this beautiful little town who’s name escapes me. We drove out towards the low-lying wetlands and sure enough, there were the flamingos. At first, there were only a handful. But they were still flamingos and therefore awesome. By the shore, there were heaps of flamingo feathers! I took a couple as souvenirs and we kept driving. That’s when the real flamingo fun began.
We parked by the side of the road and walked through a dried up portion of the lake. Seriously, there must have been thousands of flamingos just hanging out, scrounging for shrimp. As soon as we arrived, they kind of discreetly moved away. We settled in for a flamingo picnic surrounded by pink flamingo dots. We even saw some fly in. Those bad boys are big! And the undersides of their wings are all black. They were simply glorious.
Maybe the south of France isn’t so bad after all.
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