11th July 2015. Here's a short guide to the beaches between St-Jean-de-Luz and Hendaye on the Côte Basque:
9th July 2015. The annual madness that is the Feast of San Fermin is well underway just across the border in Pamplona. In the third video you can see that slippery stone sets combine dangerously with a solitary bull.. Feel like proving your manhood? (or perhaps losing it!☺) Step right this way..!
I don't pretend to like bullfighting - far from it - but, like it or not, it must be admitted that, in an increasingly homogenised world, the whole spectacle of the Feast of San Fermin at Pamplona is one of the last authentic remaining folk festivals in Europe. It combines the fascination of Mediterranean man with the bull, religious mysticism, alcohol, bravado and death. That's an unusual combination by anyone's standards. San Fermin gained much renown and notoriety via its promotion by Hemingway with the publishing of his book "The Sun Also Rises". Hemingway - a man who could have kept a psychiatrists convention entertained for several months - found that the excesses of San Fermin provided the perfect antidote for his particular personality. I'll leave it there!
22nd June 2015. Even if you've never sat in a rowing boat, I'm sure you'll enjoy this next video. It's the explosive final of the mens' VIIIs from Varese in Italy yesterday. For years, Germany has been the reference - the VIII to beat - and yesterday they were beaten:
I don't pretend to like bullfighting - far from it - but, like it or not, it must be admitted that, in an increasingly homogenised world, the whole spectacle of the Feast of San Fermin at Pamplona is one of the last authentic remaining folk festivals in Europe. It combines the fascination of Mediterranean man with the bull, religious mysticism, alcohol, bravado and death. That's an unusual combination by anyone's standards. San Fermin gained much renown and notoriety via its promotion by Hemingway with the publishing of his book "The Sun Also Rises". Hemingway - a man who could have kept a psychiatrists convention entertained for several months - found that the excesses of San Fermin provided the perfect antidote for his particular personality. I'll leave it there!
I was in Biriatou on Tuesday - a village that's said of it that anyone finding themselves there is either a local who lives there or lost. One of the most charming villages I've found in the Pays Basque, it's on a bluff overlooking the river Bidassoa that separates France from Spain. There's an auberge that I stopped at for a coffee - the Auberge Hiribarren.. Unchanged for decades inside, with a dining room that overlooks a stunning view across the Bidassoa into Spain and with a "spoilt for choice" menu, it looks like a prime candidate for a visit! (Edited to add: Sadly the Auberge Hiribarren closed in 2019) Edited to add: it's re-opened under new ownership - and the first reports are very favourable.
After a race like this, none of the oarsmen would have anything left in the tank.. and there's only one thing that makes the total exhaustion worthwhile - and that's winning.
"Once in a great while, a talented writer
survives combat to produce a work of
literature. Rarest of all is a literary novel
written by a blooded fighter pilot. In the
English language, perhaps two works truly
qualify. One is Winged Victory by Victor
Yeates, who flew Sopwith Camels and
brought down five Germans in the First
World War. The other is The Hunters by
James Salter.
Salter tells the story of Captain Cleve
Connell who arrives in Korea with a single
goal: to become an ace, one of that elite
fraternity of jet pilots who have downed
five MIGs. But as his fellow airmen rack
up kill after kill—sometimes under dubious
circumstances — Cleve’s luck runs bad.
Other pilots question his guts. Cleve
comes to question himself. And then in
one icy instant 40,000 feet above the Yalu
River, his luck changes forever. Filled with
courage and despair, eerie beauty and
corrosive rivalry, James Salter’s luminous
first novel is a landmark masterpiece in
the literature of war."
Here he is interviewed in the Guardian.. and some of his quotes.
Salter's books are not to be read in a railway station, in a departure lounge or on a beach. Their time comes when everyone has gone to bed, the house has become quiet, the last embers of the fire crumble in a shower of sparks. Take a sip of that whisky and read. Read slowly.