St Tropez (or not)

We have just been told exactly where we stand in the English social order, as according to the people opposite us in the camping ground.        

I admit we were not adhering to an unwritten camping rule, which is do not play music or have the TV on so that other campers can hear it.   We first watched a short YouTube Clip about the closing of a pub and a pie cart in Alexandra, NZ, which some enterprising New Zealander had written subtitles on top of a film about Hitler.   We then went on to watch the beginning of the original series of 'Mrs Brown's Boys, filmed about 8 years ago.  On my laptop.  A little too  much base humour, I know, and obviously sound carries.  

First the man came over, and said 'About your soap.    We don't like your soap'.    Our soap?  Did we leave our detergent in the washing up area, or maybe the smell of the soap we use offended him?   Then the woman (his wife?) with the posh voice, who obviously thought her partner was not dealing with the situation well, stormed into our site and stated that she did not like our choice of soaps, and did not want to be subjected to listening to them.  Ah. the noise from the laptop.  We understand. Well we know where we stand then, in the order of things, that is.    Why did they not just come over and ask us to turn the computer off, instead of making a value judgement about what we were listening to.   Some people!

But this leads me onto my next topic.    The ill fated trip to St Tropez.    We left a little later than we should, considering that there was only one narrow road into St Tropez.   When we got there we found three quarters of the car park was closed, so therefore the remaining part was completely filled up.    So we had to turn around and go back again, back past all the hopeful people in cars in the very long queue on the other side of the road.  

What to do?   We drove to the hypermarket, and headed for the cafe, not quite the same as sitting on the red chairs drinking expensive coffee, while looking at the huge boats, moored in the quay at St Tropez.  And watching the people posing on the back of the huge boats, as they eat breakfast, and looking at the rest of us  slumming it, in the cafe.  

  The variations in life!    I love it.