For want of anywhere else to go, and not having had any requests or suggestions, I decided that it looked fairly easy to go to Port de Bouc - a seaside area further west, but still in 'Greater Martigues'. Erreur.
The bus departure point was unclear, and a lovely lady from Georgia (the country) took pity on us and took us - by bus - to the correct stop.
It was an inglorious route which dumped us next to a grim set of 1960s high rise housing blocks. These had been built for the workforce of the long gone St Gobain glass factory.
Walking towards the town along what was apparently a disused cliff top railway track things didn't improve. The view across the water was to refineries and heavy industry, and scrubby areas in front of the housing on the landward side. It was just plain unpleasant.
Throwing myself on the mercy of Google Maps we found a nearby bus stop opposite the Yuri Gagarin sports hall - which had a choice of buses back to Martigues. The listed buses didn't include the number L002 - but it came first and whisked us down the dual carriageway back to the bus station.
After a quick wee in the Free loo we noticed that the number 30 to Carro was about to go, so that's what we did.
There was a bit of a scene involving the bus driver and a teenage lad which I didn't understand, but it certainly looked like the driver had singled out the teenager for a bit of unpleasantness.
Anyway - Plage de Carro, a really pleasant spot, was heaving with damp bodies, so we sat on a bench above it all and watched. When it was time to get the bus back we made a detour to the ice cream shop.
The bus was rammed with more teenager boys all in high spirits - and I only managed to get us off by doing my best London geezer impression "Come on lads make way for the deux Anglais" etc etc.
Back at the flat and it's a reduced pizza - baguette thing for tea assuming I can get the grill to go!