We parked and set off from a precipitous wide spot in the narrow road. The vegetation was was some very prickly shrub that scratched our bare legs (Cheryl and Gillian in skirts), but it was generously filled with rosemary, great smelling stuff, and growing wild all over the hills and cliffs sides. I've heard some pretty hostile so-called preaching against flood geology, that it was really just a local flood; if so, the flood waters managed to get all the way to France. Seeing and climbing on the fault-thrust ridge of stone, the vast conglomerate rock formations, and the obvious water erosion high high above the big blue wet thing extending below us to Africa--and all the objections to flood geology fall silent (in my humble opinion).
I had to do some encouraging along the way. Gillian later asked me just how that was like a sidewalk (see her traverse in flip flops below). Some French tight rope walkers had set up a fixed line and were working on their craft, which they did with considerably less ease than is seen on TV, judging from the fall, caught at the last second by a safety line.
I also chose to keep to myself that this stretch of the Calanques is home to the Montpelier grass snake, a poisonous viper, the longest snake in Europe (2m, more than 6 feet long). I had my French picnic knife, so we were plenty safe. Everyone agreed after the fact that it was a worthwhile outing, with breathtaking views of the sea and the Mediterranean villages that speckle the coastline. Then off to the evening market on the street circling the charming port of la Ciotat--and chocolate sorbet to die for!