234. Back in town..

31st August. "It gets earlier every year" Dept! This morning, I received an email from a Christmas card company showing their latest offerings. A card showing Santa's sleigh swirling on high through the wintry streets (right) caught my eye. Can the first sighting of an Easter Egg be far behind?

I can't believe that both July and August have flown by so quickly. It was near the end of June (but it seems like only yesterday) that I said to Madame that the summer season was about to kick off here with the great annual influx of visitors. With all the uncertainties of foreign travel, I think we saw more visitors from elsewhere in France than ever before here. Still, September is the best month to visit the Pays Basque in my opinion. The great wave of summer visitors (plus kids!) have returned home and now it's the "silver tourists" who remain. The temperature will settle down at a comfortable 25°C, the skies will be blue and parking will once again be possible in Biarritz and Saint-Jean-de-Luz and elsewhere along the coast.

28th August. It must be at least a week (!) since I've posted anything of Mark Knopfler's - so here's one of his timeless tracks:

Madame came out with another one of her colourful expressions a day or two ago: ménager la chèvre et le chou.. Strictly speaking, the literal word-for-word meaning is "to arrange (or satisfy) the goat and the cabbage"! But the expression really means "to have it both ways", "to keep a foot in both camps" or "to try and please everyone"..

Then there's vouloir le beurre et l'argent du beurre - this literally means "wanting the butter and the money of the butter". Or as we'd say in English: wanting to have your cake and eat it too.

There are many of these expressions that stem from France's rich agricultural heritage. I'll try and remember to include some more.

Then there are odd ones such as "beau comme un camion".. which means "beautiful as a truck/lorry". Or, more usually: "you're looking good!".

26th August. We're off out this evening to try and find a bar on a beach somewhere where we can drink something exotic and watch the sun go down. Surprisingly, there aren't as many as you might think - and those that we know of, switch to serving more profitable meals in the evenings.

25th August. Give your French a work-out with this documentary (below) about the French holiday routes of the middle decades of the 20th century over which a number of nostalgia addicts (code for obsessives!) re-enact the summer treks to the south (including "retro-camping") in a variety of period vehicles. They even go as far as re-creating traffic jams - complete with a François Hollande lookalike acting as a fake gendarme! (at 1:20:40). You couldn't make some of this up. Health Warning: Their re-enactment strays into retro-kitsch at times as these dotty collectors proudly show off their 'vintage collectibles' - such as formica guitars with built-in clocks! Think of it this way: for every obsessive living the 60s dream out on the road in his rare caravan, another hospital bed is freed up! (I'm joking - it's all harmless fun..)

The French revolutionised camping in the 1950s and '60s when they pioneered lightweight aluminium-framed tents with zip fasteners, mini Campingaz Bleuet stoves, lightweight camping chairs and set up fully-equipped campsites (with hot showers, shops & entertainment). The tent we had at home in the early 60s was supported by sturdy wooden poles and it was made out of heavy duty canvas that was designed to ward off everything a British summer could throw at it - whereas the French equivalents were made out of modern lightweight waterproof fabrics designed to keep out nothing more threatening than a stray mosquito. 

My father had a Primus paraffin stove (left) and I remember it always being a struggle to light the blessèd thing - especially on a windy evening. A ring of methylated spirits had to be lit to pre-heat the jet out of which the pressurised paraffin spray would emerge. Occasionally it would light like a military jet afterburner which always amused us children! Keeping it lit was another challenge - if it went out on your watch, it was a good time to hide! The Campingaz stoves (right) were a revelation as well.. the starting ritual was simple: turn on the gas, light it and start cooking.

Don't worry if you struggle to keep up with the French - just enjoy the scenery.. 

 

23rd August. I was out at the décheterie (tip) earlier this afternoon and it was h-o-t.. the car thermometer was indicating 39½°C..(had to convert this one: 103°F)

The summer is passing by too quickly. I can't believe we're already in the last week of August. We had some visitors last week and after we'd taken them on a lightning 1½ day tour of some of our favourite Pays Basque hotspots (Saint-Jean-de-Luz, Ascain, Sare, Ainhoa, Dantcharia, Saint-Etienne-de-Baïgorry, Bayonne, Biarritz), we finished up in a gift shop in the beautiful border village of Ainhoa. There was a stack of berets there and, as no-one was looking, I tried one on. Miraculously it fit - so, after almost 10 years here, I finally bit the bullet! I now find myself the proud owner of a beret Basque. They come with quite a large overhang thus allowing for some individual styling. All that remains now is to mould it into a suitable shape (right) for my 100% Anglo-Saxon (with perhaps a dash of Viking!*) head. I'm slowly being transformed into an alien..! I also recently had to exchange my UK driving licence for a French one. I was surprised to see that it doesn't entitle me to stop anywhere and have an al fresco pee..(another avenue of pleasure closed off!☺)

* with apologies to Anthony Aloysius St John Hancock! (watch from 2:30)

I found this well-written article about the Pays Basque in the NY Times.. The author manages to say in one column what I've been struggling to say in 7 years! Worth a read. There's a slideshow as well (just give it a moment or two to load).

We were having lunch on our terrace the other day when there was a dull thud from above, followed by the sound of something plummeting down through the hortensias (hydrangeas in English). Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something small as it shot by to land on the gravel path. My curiosity aroused, I got up to see what it was. Lying on the path, beak down with its backside in the air, was a young sparrow that must have knocked itself out by flying into an upstairs window. To my surprise, it was still alive so I picked it up and took it back to the table. It was its lucky day because it just appeared to be stunned.. After a minute or two, it hopped onto my finger and after a few more minutes, it flew off.

The following day, I found another less fortunate young sparrow lying feet up on the terrace. It was absolutely unmarked and it too had probably flown into a window but sadly it must have broken its neck as it was stone dead.

14th August. We were down at the beach at Anglet (below) early this morning for a good walk before it became too crowded - but it wasn't quite early enough as this weekend is probably the peak of the tourist season. Joggers were out en masse - and I saw one t-shirt slogan that I thought contained much truth: "The real workout starts when you want to stop"..

Today's forecast is for 34°.. Ouf!

  

13th August. What a great row by the British Men's VIII in Rio this afternoon.. fantastic performance..! It's the first time they've beaten the Germans in 2016 - so what a time to pounce! 

8th August. We're back home after a few days away in central and eastern France. It was really to escape the noise, crowds and bustle of the Fêtes de Bayonne but it was also a welcome break and change of air. This time, it was just the two of us - our little feller was greatly missed. 

We'd booked "demi-pension" at a number of country hotels (in the Logis group) choosing ones wherever possible that had "3 cocottes" (this is the highest ranking for food for Logis hotels). Our first night was in the Auvergne, followed by a few nights in Burgundy before finishing up in the Haut-Jura,  One hotel in particular excelled itself in the food department - and instead of offering us the standard set menu for those staying on demi-pension terms, they generously allowed us choose anything from their 27€, 37€ and 51€ menus.. We had no trouble sleeping while we were there..! That's all I'm saying..!

Route Nationale 7

At one stage during our peregrinations across central France near Moulins, we found ourselves on the legendary Route Nationale 7 (known as the RN7 or the N7), an old-style national trunk road that linked Paris with the Côte Azur before the advent of the autoroutes around 40 years ago. After WWII, the French economy - and car ownership - boomed ("Les trente glorieuses") and thus the stage was set for the N7 to become Europe's most dangerous road. For many, August was the traditional holiday month and the capital would rapidly empty during the first weekend as people in their thousands flooded out on to the roads, with the majority heading south on the N7. There were songs written about it, its dangers were discussed endlessly, there were colossal tailbacks, and accidents were frequent and violent.. It was soon became known as the "Road of Death". In short, during the hot summer months, it was a nightmare.

In the late sixties I remember driving from the south of France north up to Paris via the N7. It was totally uncompromising and unimaginably busy and it required all my concentration. My abiding memory of it is that there were a total of 3 lanes - one going north, one going south and one in the middle. This third lane could be used for overtaking by motorists heading in either direction! (Pause while you absorb the significance of that one!) Yes, the dreaded suicide lane.

 There are many similarities with the fabled Route 66 in the US that once was the main artery from Chicago to Los Angeles but which also went into decline when it was superseded by the US interstates. Roadside communities failed and became ghost towns. Nowadays, it's become fashionable for tourists to rent Harleys to ride on Route 66 to see the America of the early part of the 20th century.

Something similar happened here with the N7. Eerie is perhaps the wrong word for it but there was definitely a brooding sense of being in the presence of living history when I found myself alone on this broad ribbon of shimmering tarmac, lined with flaking restaurants, boarded up hotels and deserted cafés. This once-mighty highway unrolled before me in a arrow-straight line to a vanishing point that lay on the southern horizon. And the rear view mirror showed the same scene in reverse.

There were many independent garages (advertising bodywork repairs!) and large restaurants - the majority closed down - every few kilometres. The roadside restaurants and cafés were clearly once oases for the hungry traveller and his family - and each of them came complete with vast car parks that could easily swallow a few hundred cars - but which are now simply dustblown.

A nostalgic view of the N7 here - with a couple of very collectable cars in there.. like the Morgan 4/4 and the TR3. This video repeats at around 1:50..

Question du jour.. What on earth are the curly-wurly shaped "things" that are given out to each medal-winning athlete in the Rio Olympics? Each time there's a presentation, it appears that they continue to intrigue each recipient.. I wonder how many will end up on top of the nearest wardrobe once back home?   

171. Now is the winter of our content..

2nd December 2011. After the quick trip down to Salon de Provence earlier this week I've been spending the last day or two catching up with all the trivia. However, there's one event that can't be ignored and it's one that's coming up fast over the horizon. I'm referring of course to Christmas.. I was looking at this French 'ard deescoont' site for Madame's favourite eau de toilette but they don't appear to stock it so a visit to the perfumed halls of Galeries Lafayette in Bayonne is called for. I must also pay a call to the chocolatiers in town for some of that dark, dark chocolate that she loves. If you want to spoil your sweetheart (and why wouldn't you?) take a look at some of the chocolatiers in the Pays Basque who have a web presence: here, here or here.

Here's a clip from our local beach at Anglet (just 5 mins north of Biarritz) - the perfect place for a post-lunch bumble!

Anglet

Yesterday afternoon we went down to the beach at Anglet and according to the car it was an unseasonable 20½°C (or 69° in Ye Olde half-timbered Fahrenheit) - on 1st December already! No complaints from me though. There was a thunderous surf running, huge rollers were rearing up and crashing with depth charge-like explosions of whiter-than-white foam against the end of the jetty, the air was heavy with salt spray and the dog's ears were flapping horizontal in the wind!

I've just found the following clip which was filmed at Anglet during some heavy seas last February. Scroll forward to start at 0:50.. At the mouth of the Adour there are a couple of breakwaters that we often walk out on to watch the sea. On days like the one in the clip below however, the council puts barriers out to persuade all but the eejits to remain onshore. You can see why at 4:06..! The sea front is dotted with German blockhouses that look as though they might just last for 1,000 years (as promised!). 

Lawn Update.. (you've been waiting for this haven't you!) We've been re-seeding the moth-eaten sections of the optimistically-named lawn with grass seed that claims to be 'Rustique Sud'. This is a grass that has a broader leaf and the Sud part of the name implies that it should be successful in these 'ere parts. Meanwhile the local bird population must be thinking that it's an early Christmas for them too! I think we have a couple of pigeons nesting in one of the trees and their idea of a good day out is to peck great holes in the lawn. Little treasures! This morning I set a net up over the grass in an attempt to give it a fighting chance of survival. We'll see. 

The Christmas Village in town opened yesterday.. I haven't been down to see it yet but here's a look at last year's: 

Meanwhile, these lines by A E Houseman have been running through my head - especially the "blue remembered hills":

Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

3rd December 2011. A brisk outing on a cold river in an VIII sculler this morning - we finished up being pursued by another VIII, set up for rowing (as opposed to sculling). If you're unsure of the difference have a squint at this. We did 17km - with the last 2-3km being quite lively! Then into the clubhouse for an apéro as it's the first Saturday in the month.

I went into Spain this afternoon to stock up with a few essentials (think Scotland - that's all I'm saying!). In the steeply sloping fields of the border area I saw a few new-born lambs of the season tottering about in their mother's wake.. looking as if they were made of pipe cleaners. They don't normally make their appearance so early do they?   

4th December 2011. Just been out to the baker mentioned here for a baguette tradition - these are the best baguettes in Bayonne by a long way. I've been to this baker perhaps 3-4 times before and I've always asked for a baguette tradition bien cuite (ie, well baked) each time. Three or four times is not very often so today when I asked for a baguette tradition (forgetting the bien cuite), the lady turned around to select one and she added, "Bien cuite!" I congratulated her on her memory and she laughed.. I don't suppose she numbers too many Brits among her customers. (so much for my accent!!)

That's one of the aspects of living in a town this size that I enjoy - you do get to make contact with people. I was at the garden centre this afternoon buying a new lead for the pooch - he'd chewed his way through his present one in that endearing way of his and it parted this morning in the centre of Bayonne while I was en route to buy bread. Anyway, back at the garden centre I bumped into one of the girls from the rowing club - she greatly resembles Charlotte Rampling - and she planted a couple of bisous on my cheeks - this is one 'furrin' tradition that should be encouraged in England!

Spotted this picture (right) in a BBC TV report about the recent demonstrations in London against the government cutbacks. Somehow I don't think the Brits have quite yet grasped the noble art of demonstrating. This sign won't be giving David Cameron many sleepless nights!☺ It's completely in line though with an observation someone once made that if ever there was a revolution in England and the howling mob was told to 'take' a railway station, they'd all buy platform tickets. Revolutions don't work in mild climates. We've been brought up to be polite, not make a fuss, show consideration for others, say 'sorry' if someone bumps into us and so we don't really do rampaging.. It's not our style. I'm not trying to claim some form of moral superiority here but that's how it is.

While we're thinking about surf, have a look at these truly disturbing images of very large waves that are found just a little bit further south down the coast. It's the giant wave that breaks on the Belharra Reef, just to the south of St Jean de Luz.. Any takers? (Now tell me it's Photoshopped!)

6th December 2011. There are odd things I notice here that sometimes I wish I carried a dictaphone for to remind me.. I've got the memory of a goldfish these days. As it is, I was reminded by something on the radio just a few minutes ago of a cliché that's used here a lot in the media if they're discussing something British. Whatever it is they are discussing, if it's British it's always labelled "So British".. whatever that means. And another thing - it's become fashionable now for people in the media to use the word 'Yes' as a kind of exclamation mark.. One last one - I saw an advert in one of those free "What's On in the Côte Basque" magazines for a bar that promises drinks, ambiance and 'fooding'. Again, so British!  

With Christmas coming up, here's a little reminder of you-know-what:

11th December 2011. On Thursday I was at the rhumatologues for some injections in my knees. About 2 years ago, he gave me a series of 3 injections over 2 weeks in my knees of a silicon-like compound. On Thursday, I was there for an all-in-one shot via a needle about the size of a bicycle pump (only a slight exaggeration..). He preceded it with (look away now!) an anaesthetic shot into each knee, followed by the 'Big One'. Afterwards, I walked to the car feeling quite sprightly but later on I was hobbling around as the effects of the anaesthesia wore off. Sunday sees me still moving awkwardly but hopefully things will have settled down in a day or two.

Strange but nonetheless very welcome weather this year - yesterday afternoon it was a balmy 19C (66F).. It's difficult to imagine Christmas being a matter of only two weeks away. I went out and bought a proper desk chair yesterday. With all the time I'm spending stuck in front of this screen with work, my old Victorian wooden chair was putting a permanent flat spot on my backside.. so this modern cushioned swivelling tiltable adjustable jobby was sorely needed.

13th December 2011. Here's a Paul McCartney song that I was unfamiliar with until I heard it on the radio the other day for the first time.. There's something very nostalgic about the first few lines that reminds me of those 'Rupert' books that I used to read as a kid at my aunty's house. She always kept a few early ones under a cushion and they were much sought after. They were beautifully illustrated in a slightly surreal style - the professor in his smoking jacket, hot air balloons, castles in the clouds etc set against an iridescent background. I see from the link above that the current price is £70..

The Dubliners have long been a favourite of mine - here's Barney MacKenna with his instrumental version of 'Boulevogue'.. 

14th December 2011. Biarritz, our more glitzy neighbours just 10 minutes down the road, is putting on a spectacular light show this year: We'll definitely be taking a look..

  

47. Wind in the Willows

28th February 2010. An Alerte Rouge for 60-odd departements in France last night.. Strong winds swept the country overnight - the storm crossed the Bay of Biscay from Spain and coasted in around La Rochelle and devastated some low-lying villages when a high tide, whipped up by the strong south-westerly winds, breached a dyke and flooded villages and farmland. So far around 45 dead have been reported with many being drowned in their homes.

The idea of drowning during the night in one's own house is far from our thoughts when we go to bed and so the unimaginable shock of waking up in the wee small hours with the house flooding and no lighting must have been appalling for those involved, especially the elderly and infirm. Many houses were flooded to a depth of 1m 80.. (almost 6 feet) It doesn't bear thinking about..

I now feel somewhat guilty about my reactions during the storm because I was lying in bed, listening to the noise outside and feeling content that, with the new windows fitted, things were now much quieter.

2nd March 2010. We were on the beach at Anglet this afternoon and I heard some unfamiliar honking sounds coming from above.. Looking up, I spotted several great straggling broadly vee-shaped formations of cranes beating their way back to their northern European summer retreats (from Africa?). There were a good few hundred of them. My next question is what is the difference between a stork and butter oops, a crane..? I’m no ornithologist as you can guess.. This must be a sign that spring is on the way.. The car thermometer registered 22C yesterday at 3pm on the way to the beach.

  

Our pooch (9 this summer) met another English cocker spaniel, a 10 months old bitch, down there and the two of them started racing about like a coupla eejits.. (“Wow, another dog!”) It was so funny to watch.. Would have been hard pressed to say which one was the 8 year old.. Strange, isn’t it, how dogs never lose their fascination with each other.

42. Basque primer

1st February 2010. On Saturday I went down to the rowing club at around the time that the crews normally return after their morning outings - just in time for a torrential downpour. It looked very wet out there on the river. They were all soaked to the skin but in good humour. (It's only water innit!) I remember one outing last year when I went out with F in a double sculler and as we left the pontoon, the sky had looked dark and vaguely threatening. We set off up the river when suddenly - from nowhere - a hailstorm started. Each piece of hail was about the size of a marble and was it ever painful. And with being in a boat and having to keep hold of the sculls, we didn't have a free hand to protect ourselves from the worst of it. Luckily we'd only rowed about half a mile upstream so we dashed back. Ouch ouch ouch! Felt as though my head was being shot-peened..

Glad to see the back of January - while it's been very cold down here we were lucky to escape the snow. Been out in the car this morning and I was intrigued by a road sign I kept seeing (don't start me off!). It said "Norabide Guziak". At first I thought it looked like one of my nightmare Scrabble hands.. but it's Basque for "Toutes Directions" - or "Through Traffic" in yer Anglo Saxon.. There's just nothing there to give you a clue is there? While we're on the subject, I'll run through my Basque language repertoire for you.. Milesker is please. Bai is yes. And, as you now know, Norabide Guziak is Through Traffic.. And that's it after living here for over 2 years.

I nipped over the border to pick up a few things (inc. a 2 litre bottle of Scotch for 16€) at the Venta supermarkets on the other side. Well worth a visit if in the area.

2nd February 2010. The car thermometer reckoned it was 15C.. And, as it was Pancake Tuesday, Madame made a stack of them with all kinds of exotic fillings - think the highlight was the chocolate & banana one, flambéed with rhum.. We went down to the beach at Anglet this afternoon and for the first time this year, it felt like spring was on the way. A silver mist hung over the Biarritz beach and the Pyrenees were white with snow.

Think Pancake Wednesday could be a good idea!

4. Bayonne

I should have mentioned at the outset that we did drag ourselves around countless estate agents and went through the long-winded process of explaining our situation and what we wanted with each and every one. Needless to say, we didn't receive a single call back or a referral from any of them. However, in fairness to the estate agents (and it's not often you read that is it?), it's a sellers market and there are more buyers than properties available so it's the buyer who must do the work.

What were we looking for? We wanted to live on or near the coast in a town because, when confronted with a bijou house down a lane deep in the countryside, Madame would inevitably ask “Yes, but where do you buy your baguette..?” Neither of us wanted to live somewhere where we’d need the car each time we wanted a biro, for example. Plus - ever practical - she convinced me that we needed to live somewhere with a good hospital. It sounds pessimistic but we are both in our 60s.. Say no more.

I made a list of all the features that we wanted: a small town house orientated east/west (for the sun); with a good-sized sitting room with a fireplace and a walk-through to a dining room; a breakfast kitchen; all rooms to have high ceilings with either parquet or wooden floors; 2/3 bedrooms; a utility room; a cellar; a terrace; a garden front & back and a garage. In an ideal world, we wanted the house to have belonged to an old person and thus likely to be in need of redecoration from top to bottom including renovating the kitchen and bathroom (to discourage other buyers). Finally, we wanted the house to be on a quiet road within 10 minutes walk of the centre including all the shops. No problem with that list, surely? (dreamer!)

Bayonne looking west down the Adour

After a week of pounding pavements in the warm September sunshine in what turned out to be a fruitless search in St Jean and Biarritz, we decided to open up our search to the north to include Bayonne, a short 10 minute drive from Biarritz.

Narrow streets of Bayonne

Bayonne, an historic town of some 44,000 inhabitants, is situated about 5km inland at the confluence of the Rivers Adour and the Nive. In fact, it forms part of what is known locally as the Agglomeration Côte Basque-Adour (ACBA agglomeration) - it used to be known as the BAB. Bayonne has been heavily shaped by its past because it lies behind extensive city walls, massive stone ramparts and fortifications, as it was fortified on an heroic scale in the 16th century by Vauban, France’s military fortification genius.

Vauban (1633-1707)

In former times, therefore, there was no possibility for town planners and builders to spread out and so the only direction new building could expand was upwards - and the limit, imposed by Vauban's fortifications on the outward expansion of the old town, is clearly visible below:

Bayonne

The streets of the old town are correspondingly narrow with 4-5 storied buildings being the norm. This has the advantage that the streets remain cool and in shadow, even on the hottest of days. This lends a very Spanish feel to it. Modern Bayonne, however, has spread out beyond the original city walls and ramparts and now there’s no discernible break between Biarritz, Anglet or Bayonne.

Bayonne Old Town Centre

Bayonne (centre left) and the Pyrenees

Prices here reflect the fact that it's not on the coast and so the price/sq m is correspondingly lower. It works out at about half that of St Jean de Luz. This was more our territory!

During the first week of August, Bayonne is “en fête”. Sheer madness reigns as well over 1m people (yes, a million) descend on the town for five days and five nights of prodigious eating, drinking, music, drums, folklore, funfairs, mass fandango dancing in the streets, fireworks and more. The inventiveness and parking skills of Basque drivers is stretched to the limit as conventional parking spaces are quickly taken, never to be relinquished for the 5 days. To take part in the Fête, you must be dressed all in white with a red scarf or a red beret. The town also has an active bull-ring; however, this is one facility that we definitely won't be taking advantage of.

Les Arènes (Bull ring)

But I’m getting ahead of myself here..