Across the tracks and into that mysterious place that we call “Les Marais” – preferable to the rather ominous English translation The Marshes. A green jewel in our smalltown – 135 hectares of market gardens, criss crossed by canals and drainage ditches – gardens and allotments, lovingly tended by green fingered growers. In the summer this a place to spend long lazy days, quietly pottering round your little patch of God’s earth or fishing in the canals, or just strolling around. And each gardener has built his cabin – from salvage but with love -we are in a photographer’s paradise. With recent heavy rains and freezing temperatures, this is now waterlogged desolation .