To Anglet ...
We are a little slow and slightly jaded this morning. I think I spoke too soon about restraint and sensibility! We'll blame the Rugby World Cup. We may not get to see many games over the next few weeks as we are about to enter football territory, so excuse us for overindulging slightly.
We wander up to the daily market at Les Halles. It's a large and fabulous permanent market that would go down very nicely in Auckland, thank you very much.
Outside there are stalls selling fresh produce and clothing and bags and homeware and trinkets, all very civilised. And everything of good price and quality, food and fabric alike.
Then there are the two huge buildings, one housing small goods, meat, cheese, pastries etc, all exquisitely displayed and being bought up large by the locals. Another building sells seafood of all descriptions. The fish with two eyes on one side of their heads look rather forlorn (halibut?) and the langoustine definitely look good enough to eat.
You can buy 6 oysters and a glass of wine for €4 but it is 10am, just a tad too early, even for wine and oyster fiends like ourselves. There are, of course, a few local men lapping it all up over lively morning conversation. An old lady in smart coat fills her trolley bag with items she selects with great care. She buys some oysters to take away. Bugger, we don't have a fridge.
Instead, we find a busy cafe and order bacon and eggs French style. It serves its purpose well to sop up the remnants of last night's revelry. We are now ready to head to Anglet, a coastal area to the north of the lighthouse. I have no idea what to expect except that there should, apparently, be waves.
The wind is still wrong so Brett is not expecting to surf and when we arrive we find a long, wide promenade with sea and sand stretching for miles. It's called Chambre d'Amour and I guess if you love the seabed it makes sense. There is a kids' surf competition happening and they are having a whale of a time, the setup and organisation second to none. Young surfers looking bronzed and happy, girls and boys alike. Bleached hair, bronzed skin, happy laughs. They are all beautiful youth in this beautiful place. I'm enchanted.
To distract me, there are restaurants and bars and glacé (ice-cream) shops everywhere. Families and couples and surfers are out enjoying a perfect blue sky day. And those gorgeous-looking youngies everywhere.
A blend of surf culture and Saturday strolling is happening around us. Brett dissects the wave formations which are still crumbly, onshore and average. We poke through a shop or two. Anglet has a holiday feel but is not at all crowded. It is a beach place but offers so much more than sand and sea. It is stylish yet not overdone. We love it, and the sun which streams down, although the breeze has an autumnal chill.
We have a drink on a roof terrace bar (a delicious mango non-alcoholic cocktail for me, I am thirsty and driving) and then some more strolling and lunch. Brett fancies 'moules mariniere' and I have calamari in a tasty tomato sauce concoction. Washed down with rose as the surf rolls in a few metres away, all is well in the world.
We leave with some reluctance and drive to the lighthouse at the northern end of Biarritz. Wow, what a view of the city. It's utterly spectacular. And on the other side, looking back towards Anglet, from whence we have come, all the way up to Hossegor, where we started our time in the French Pays Basque. Amazing.
We drive back to Biarritz and the place is in seething Saturday mode. There is a wedding in the church, and some sort of festival going on with throngs of people and traffic everywhere. Driving through a Biarritz Saturday afternoon traffic jam is not so easy but at least the route is straight forward and, by now, familiar. Finding a park nearby our hotel is a nightmare but, after some angst and driving around, we find one, in a lucky moment. On-street parking here can be scarce at busy times but people come and go regularly, and it costs only €12 for a whole week. Value plus, even for just three days' use.
By the time we get back to our hotel room, we are ready to put our feet up. A bit of reading, a bit of writing, as the world hums outside. And then it is time to return to the bar to watch France play Italy. We arrive and Jean Michel and France, who we met yesterday, have already reserved seats for us. Thank goodness. It is busy of course, and we are told about the result of the Japan-South Africa game. (Against all odds, Japan won!) Oh, we should have come earlier.
No matter, we watch France play in France with French people. And two upper-crust young English guys who went to school with the two English rugby playing brothers Ben and Tom Youngs (neither putting their best foot forward against Fiji apparently). Over pintxos, cheering and red wine (in sensible quantity), it is another fun night. And then .... there is no need to ask 'dormez vous?' ... The answer is Oui. (See separate post for pics.)
And tomorrow ... to Spain.
Observation of the Day: Those of you who know the Blyth girls will know we love our shopping. You may be wondering if I have been shopping up a storm. Well, no, actually!! Shopping restraint galore going on my end.
If you have followed the blog so far, you will know about the shoe spree in Paris ... initiated by Brett not me! I do have to admit that my boots got a number of outings in the Dordogne so have served their purpose already. And Brett thinks his boots are the best footwear he has ever had and they are now well worn in. But, since then, apart from food, drink, petrol, accommodation and entrance fees, we haven't bought anything. Until today ... I spied some groovy jandals that took my fancy. Given the ones I brought with me were purchased back in 2008 (in Mallorca, no less - remember my shopping spree, Jill!?!?) it was time for an update. But apart from that, there has been no shopping. Believe it ... Or not ... It is true!!!
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