30th September. I was down at the beach earlier today with the pup and to my surprise the sea was white with crashing foam and towering breakers. There was virtually no wind and it set me to wondering why this should be. Could there be any linkage with the recent Caribbean hurricanes? Or am I missing something blindingly obvious? And just now, when I opened our west-facing bedroom windows to close the shutters, I thought I could hear the soughing of the sea - and that must be 4-5km distant as the crow flies - I suppose it's possible.
In a few days, Madame and I will be celebrating the 50th anniversary of the momentous evening when our orbits intersected for the first time - little realising that we'd turn out to be lifetime soulmates. (I remember dancing to this - have no idea what's it's about though!) We've been casting around for places to go - but, with the arrival of SuperPup (9.2kgs and counting!), we've had to scale back our ideas.
We're now looking at paying La Tupina (in Bordeaux) a visit. La Tupina is arguably the temple to the cuisine of south west France - and that, for me, is unarguably the best cuisine of all. (carte) We've been there once before but, for whatever reason, we were never able to make it back there. I understand that there's been a change of management (uh-oh) since our last visit. Read this review and prepare to salivate! Foodie photos here..
Couldn't resist this:
29th September. We were in Saint-Jean-de-Luz yesterday evening to meet some friends. When we left home at 5pm, the car was indicating 39½°C.. although it was probably more like 31°. And, leaving Saint-Jean to return home at around 8.30, it was still 25° and this was the sky looking out across the bay to the west:
In a few days, Madame and I will be celebrating the 50th anniversary of the momentous evening when our orbits intersected for the first time - little realising that we'd turn out to be lifetime soulmates. (I remember dancing to this - have no idea what's it's about though!) We've been casting around for places to go - but, with the arrival of SuperPup (9.2kgs and counting!), we've had to scale back our ideas.
We're now looking at paying La Tupina (in Bordeaux) a visit. La Tupina is arguably the temple to the cuisine of south west France - and that, for me, is unarguably the best cuisine of all. (carte) We've been there once before but, for whatever reason, we were never able to make it back there. I understand that there's been a change of management (uh-oh) since our last visit. Read this review and prepare to salivate! Foodie photos here..
Couldn't resist this:
Stairway to heaven..! |
25th September. The training of the pup is going in fits and starts.. I think what we have is the dominant dog from his litter. While he's gradually getting the hang of things, this particular exercise is taking longer than it should for him to master:
It's taken me 10 years to get around to explaining this - the names of the different cuts of meat in France. (There's an international guide to meat cuts here). The diagram below is a good starting point for those of us in France. (More on those French cuts here. More here.) If you're not sure you can remember any of this, a simple rule of thumb for choosing tender meat is to remember: the further away from the horns and the ground, the better. On the diagram below these cuts are numbered 1. Finally, don't ignore bavette (shown as a 2 below) or onglet (sometimes called hanger steak in the US).
24th September. Whizzed down to Socoa (near Saint-Jean-de-Luz) this morning to walk the dog along the sea wall before lunch. We'd booked a table at Chez Pantxua, one of our favourite restaurants. For seafood, it's incomparable. The warm weather had brought out shoals of people with the same idea.. but who hadn't booked. Our restaurant was soon 'complet' and the staff were having to turn people away.
We ordered the house speciality - the paella - and it was truly excellent. We exited the restaurant like a couple of stuffed ducks!
The photo below is exactly as it appeared on our table.. No photoshop or special enhancements required..
Needless to say, we didn't feel the need to eat this evening!
This is the view looking across the bay to Saint-Jean-de-Luz with the Pyrenees in the misty background:
And here's a view looking at Ciboure / Socoa with La Rhune behind:
Madame has a new name for the pup - "Bulldozaire"! He's discovered tugging.. and he's good at it. Once he has something clamped in his jaws, he defies us to take it off him. For a 4 month old pup, he has impressive strength..
It's taken me 10 years to get around to explaining this - the names of the different cuts of meat in France. (There's an international guide to meat cuts here). The diagram below is a good starting point for those of us in France. (More on those French cuts here. More here.) If you're not sure you can remember any of this, a simple rule of thumb for choosing tender meat is to remember: the further away from the horns and the ground, the better. On the diagram below these cuts are numbered 1. Finally, don't ignore bavette (shown as a 2 below) or onglet (sometimes called hanger steak in the US).
24th September. Whizzed down to Socoa (near Saint-Jean-de-Luz) this morning to walk the dog along the sea wall before lunch. We'd booked a table at Chez Pantxua, one of our favourite restaurants. For seafood, it's incomparable. The warm weather had brought out shoals of people with the same idea.. but who hadn't booked. Our restaurant was soon 'complet' and the staff were having to turn people away.
We ordered the house speciality - the paella - and it was truly excellent. We exited the restaurant like a couple of stuffed ducks!
The photo below is exactly as it appeared on our table.. No photoshop or special enhancements required..
Needless to say, we didn't feel the need to eat this evening!
This is the view looking across the bay to Saint-Jean-de-Luz with the Pyrenees in the misty background:
And here's a view looking at Ciboure / Socoa with La Rhune behind:
Madame has a new name for the pup - "Bulldozaire"! He's discovered tugging.. and he's good at it. Once he has something clamped in his jaws, he defies us to take it off him. For a 4 month old pup, he has impressive strength..
22nd September. Nutty, our black and white (tricolour really) all-action monster English cocker spaniel 4x4 pup, is 4 months old tomorrow - and I'm convinced that he's doubled in size in the few brief weeks that we've had him. He's a quick learner but walking on a lead still appears to be a bit of a mystery to him. Plus, he hasn't yet figured out what the purpose of a walk is.. He comes back home having sniffed at all the usual places - but that's as far as it goes.. he saves his donations for a greener earth until he's back home in his own garden.
The weekend before last saw me taking part in the annual commemoration of the WWII evasion network known as the Comet Line. Allied bomber crews who had been shot down in Holland, Belgium and northern France were collected by Comet helpers and fed, clothed, housed and provided with false papers before they were dispatched by train from Brussels to Paris, Bordeaux and the Pays Basque. During the course of two days, we walk over the same tracks up and over the Pyrenees that the aircrew took en route to their freedom.
We had another good turnout this year despite the unseasonal torrential rain that marked the weekend. We had participants from as far afield as Dubai, New Jersey and Toronto but the prize for the furthest travelled went to a couple of ardent Australian Basque-o-philes Sue and Barry, from near Brisbane. It was great to see you both again - well done you two - and I hope the experience didn't put you off. Next year we're tackling the inland route that was used later in the war and you'll be pleased to hear that there's no river crossing involved!
I just about reached my own personal limit on that first climb.. I'm sure the mountain has become steeper since the last time I did it.
These two picture sum up the weekend!☺
21st September. This is a beautiful Basque song I heard the other day - "Agur Jaunak" sung here by Oldarra:
Here's Oldarra again with "Maitia Nun Zira":
I've always believed that in jazz, less is more.. Listen to that great trumpeter Chet Baker as he reminds us of those times when we felt blue:The weekend before last saw me taking part in the annual commemoration of the WWII evasion network known as the Comet Line. Allied bomber crews who had been shot down in Holland, Belgium and northern France were collected by Comet helpers and fed, clothed, housed and provided with false papers before they were dispatched by train from Brussels to Paris, Bordeaux and the Pays Basque. During the course of two days, we walk over the same tracks up and over the Pyrenees that the aircrew took en route to their freedom.
We had another good turnout this year despite the unseasonal torrential rain that marked the weekend. We had participants from as far afield as Dubai, New Jersey and Toronto but the prize for the furthest travelled went to a couple of ardent Australian Basque-o-philes Sue and Barry, from near Brisbane. It was great to see you both again - well done you two - and I hope the experience didn't put you off. Next year we're tackling the inland route that was used later in the war and you'll be pleased to hear that there's no river crossing involved!
I just about reached my own personal limit on that first climb.. I'm sure the mountain has become steeper since the last time I did it.
These two picture sum up the weekend!☺
Yes, that's water rushing down the path you can see below:
More here.
7th September. It's our annual long weekend up in the mountains this weekend.. and the forecast is not good. Looks like being a wet Saturday and Sunday - which is a great shame because we have people coming from as far afield as New Jersey, Dubai and Brisbane - as well as from Spain, Belgium, the UK, Ireland and France. Still, as my old rowing master used to say "It's only water!"
I was prompted by this photo to think about wine.. and it struck me that even if I tried a different wine every day for the rest of my life, I'd never finish the job.
Sometimes it seems that I've been on an eternal quest for the Holy Grail - for the wine one sip of which would have my eyeballs rotating and which would send my internal wine-o-meter into the red zone! There's something of the "grass is always greener" to it all. Why shouldn't I instead settle for the fact that life's just too short to taste them all? I think from now on, I'll stick to drinking and enjoying the ones I like. That way = more pleasure and fewer disappointments.
3rd September. When you have a quiet moment, go and make yourself a coffee/tea/whatever, and listen to this piece by Roger Scruton.. I'd be surprised if it didn't have you nodding in agreement: