Surf’s up, dude, Anglet



Weather: rain, and more rain

We woke up to find the weatherman were right and the rain continued to fall, albeit at a reduced volume. We waved Harry goodbye and set off for the beach. There was a steep dune perhaps 10 or 15 meters high leading onto the sands, so we did the ‘right thing’ and threw ourselves down it, bounding down in a few strides. A great laugh! The rest of the beach was a more somber affair with a gathering of some ten WW2 Atlantic wall bunkers falling slowly into the sea. These ugly concrete monuments crop up all over the coast of France; for whatever reason they’re being allowed to stand as graffiti covered senile sentinels rather than clearing the beaches for the future. Either way, I’m boyishly fascinated by them, trying to imagine how the conscripts who built them lived out the war and their lives afterwards.

We also spotted a few surfers spending their Monday morning floating around, with the occasional spectacular tunnel-bound speedy foray back to shore.

Heading down the coast to Anglet, just north of Biarritz, we found the rest of the surfing fraternity. We stood gradually getting soaked watching around 20 guys darting along on the waves, running the dual gauntlet of the throng of floating fellow surfers and a good collection of driftwood (including the odd tree).

We’ve retreated to the van, dried off and are seeing off a mug of vin chaud, partnered with oat cakes and roquefort. Our spirits have been dampened by a combination of days of rain and a lack of electricity (read as: not being able to watch TV or films on laptop at night). The wine, a dryer forecast and a hopeful find of an all year campsite are helping lift us onwards and upwards. Tomorrow: Biarritz and St Jean De Luz, and then probably over to Spain the day after.

We’re nervous of hitting Spain as their aire network is nowhere near as well developed as the French one, and it seems almost all campsites around here are already closed for winter. As soon as we get into Spain we’ll be off to the nearest supermarket to scout out a campsite guide, and if that fails, the Tourist Information offices in Northern Spain will become our second home!


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