From Basque beaches to the Loire Valley

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July 10th 2009

Published: May 2nd 2012

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Backpackermatt

Sunset over the Atlantic

View from the beach in Biarritz

Having taken a budget flight from Lisbon to Madrid, I then hopped straight onto an overnight bus for the seven-hour journey north to the coastal town of San Sebastian, in the Spanish Basque Country. Unfortunately though, having enjoyed almost perfect weather for the entire three weeks I had spent on the Iberian peninsula, my streak of good weather finally came to an abrupt end as the bus arrived in San Sebastian (sunday 5th July) - where I was greeted by not only persistent rain, but a drop in temperature of about fifteen degrees from what I had come to expect in Spain! Huddling under a nearby awning, I immediately delved deep into my backpack to dig out my jumper and long pants - neither of which I had worn since leaving Munich at the end of my first week in Europe!

To make matters worse, I then discovered that because I had arrived on a sunday morning the local buses would not be running for another three hours - meaning I had to set off on foot for the half-hour walk to my hostel, braving the rain and cold winds all the way! Needless to say I was completely soaked

Sandy strip

Playa de la Concha, San Sebastian

by the time I finally arrived at the hostel, by which time all I could do was change into some dry clothes and curl up on the couch for a sleep. Thankfully it wasn't long before a receptionist took over from the nightwatchman, at which point she promptly woke me and showed me to my bed - where I slept like a dead man for the next six hours or so.

Waking up feeling much better around four o'clock in the afternoon, I discovered to my delight that the sun had come out, and immediately set off to take a look at the waterfront. As I had suspected, San Sebastian's location and setting were as picturesque as anything I had seen in Europe; with the perfectly formed, semi-circular Bahia de la Concha (punctuated by the Isla de Santa Clara in the centre) flanked by a beautiful arc of golden sand, with a tall hill at each end - each offering stunning views of the bay. Splitting the town in two only a few blocks east of the bay is the Rio Urumea river which runs almost dead-straight into the ocean; while immediately across the river is another broad swathe

Shimmering bay

The glassy waters of Bahia de la Concha

of sand known as Playa Zurriola, which unlike the beaches in the bay is unprotected from the Atlantic Ocean swells and therefore renowned as a surfing hotspot.

Having taken the funicular railway up to the top of Monte Igueldo at the western end of the bay to enjoy the tremendous views on offer, I made my way back down the hill and back alongside the beach before stopping off to watch a street artist plying his brilliant but unusual trade. The man - probably in his late-forties - was able to paint the most beautiful and detailed scenes on small china tiles using only his fingers, and could paint an entire scene in this way in just five minutes! Breaking my own rule about not buying souvenirs, I bought one for myself and one for Kathi (my Austrian friend who I was still hoping to meet in Paris) for just ten euros, before continuing along the waterfront.

Incredibly though, after putting my tiles down for just a couple of minutes and walking no more than ten metres away to take a couple of quick photographs, I turned around to find that someone had already made off with my

Stunning San Sebastian

Bahia de la Concha and Isla Santa Clara

souvenirs! The fact that I found most unbelievable was that the only people who had been anywhere near where I had left the tiles were a couple who had seemed to be far more interested in each other than anything I might have been doing! Apparently they must have simply decided 'hey, that guy left something on the ground and now he's not looking - let's steal it, whatever it is!'

Now admittedly the souvenirs were only worth ten euros - unlike my bag that had been stolen from the beach in Barcelona - but the fact that someone had stolen them, not because they were valuable but simply because they could, left me absolutely dumbounded. Do they teach people to steal other people's things in Spanish schools?!? It's incredible how unwelcome something like this can make you feel in a foreign country.

So being pissed off enough as it was when I awoke on monday, I was by no means surprised when I discovered that it was once again raining outside, and that it did not look like the rain was going to stop anytime soon. Deciding I would rather get the hell out of San Sebastian

Reflected glow

The lights of San Sebastian reflected in Bahia de la Concha's peaceful waters

for the day than be stuck inside wishing I was somewhere else, I raced through the rain all the way to the bus station to see if I could get on a bus to Pamplona a couple of hours away to the south-east - where the opening day of the Sanfermines festival ( which includes the Encierro - better known as the 'Running of the Bulls'😉 was going to be taking place.

Unfortunately though, one glance at the unruly (I've always wanted to use that word in a sentence!) mob of people lining up to take one of the half-dozen or so coaches to Pamplona was enough to convince me to turn around and head straight back to the hostel. At this point I realized the most constructive thing I could possibly do would be to simply spend the day at an internet cafe trying to catch up on my e-mails and photo uploads. And sure enough, eleven hours later I had to admit I probably had gotten the most out of the day that I possibly could have done!

Seeing as the weather was no better the next day, and that I was only headed about an

Atlantic rollers

High above the surf in Biarritz

hour away to Biarritz on the French side of the border - where the weather was unlikely to be any better - I headed back to the same internet cafe as the day before to while away a few more hours; before finally jumping on the bus to Biarritz. Arriving in the French equivalent of San Sebastian mid-afternoon, all I could really do was find my way to my out-of-town hostel and then sit around waiting for reception to re-open for the evening. Having finally checked in and made myself comfortable, I ventured back into town to check out the windswept waterfront; and felt the disappointment of San Sebastian fading away as the sun came out just in time for me to watch my first ever sunset over the Atlantic Ocean - while tucking into a delicious meal of fish and chips at a little outdoor diner directly above the beach!

Hoping that my re-entry into France had brought about a change of luck, I was to be left well-and-truly disappointed the following day. Having been unable to find any budget accommmodation in either Bordeaux (two hours north of Biarritz) or La Rochelle (a further two hours north), I

Sunlight breaking through the clouds

First glimpse of the sun in Biarritz

had ended up booking a bed in Nantes about six hours north of Biarritz; in the hope that I would at least be able to drop my bags off in both Bordeaux and La Rochelle for a couple of hours so that I could take a good look around before jumping on the next train and continuing on my way up the coast.

To my amazement however, I hopped off the train in Bordeaux (the fourth-largest city in France), only to discover that the left luggage counter at the central train station was no longer in operation due to some sort of 'problem', and noone could tell me if there was anywhere else in town for me to leave my bags for a couple of hours. So one hour later I was on the next train north having seen nothing of Bordeaux; at which point I decided it wasn't worth risking the same disappointment in La Rochelle, so I stayed on the train all the way to Nantes. Of course, by the time I arrived in Nantes (on the banks of the Loire River) it was too late to check out the interior of the town's most famous landmark

Looking down over town

View from the 'scenic steps' in Blois

- the Cathedral - so all I could do was wander around the grounds of the inner-city Chateau, which though impressive was nowhere near as glamourous as it might sound!

The next day I set off early to Tours, which sits a couple of hours upstream from Nantes in the justifiably-famous Loire Valley. Dropping my bags at the hostel in Tours, I chose not to waste any time and jumped on another train to a small town named Blois slightly further up the Loire. Despite knowing very little about the town - which I had in fact only gone to in the hopes of lining up a rental bicycle to ride around the surrounding countryside on the following day - I was most impressed by Blois. With a surprisingly well-lit Cathedral and a large and imposing Chateau in the centre of the town, the most impressive feature of the town for me was a long set of concrete steps which led to a terrace offering a wonderful view straight down the main road and across the Loire River.

And with most of the afternoon still ahead of me, I had no sooner arrived back in Tours than I

Old stone bridge

Bridge across the Loire River in Blois

switched trains and headed straight out to the nearby Chateau Chenonceau - which I had seen photos of in souvenir stores that seemed almost too good to be true! But sure enough after arriving at the estate and making my way along the broad, tree-lined entryway, I was greeted by the brilliant sight of a Chateau (complete with moat, drawbrige, towers and turrets) stretching across the entire width of a river! After spending an hour or so checking out the interior of the Chateau, which featured a most unexpected (and extremely impressive) modern art exhibition in the top-floor gallery - and yes, I did just use the words 'modern art' and 'extremely impressive' in the same sentence (hence the presence of the phrase 'most unexpected' at the beginning of the sentence!) - I then spent a leisurely hour or so wandering around the carefully landscaped gardens, which included a small but perfectly-trimmed labyrinthe sculpted out of yew trees!

Unfortunately it was after arriving back in Tours for the evening that my stolen-wallet-related finance problems once again reared their ugly head. Having booked my final week's accommodation in Paris - starting from the following night - I had called Mastercard

The castle that stretches across a river

Chateau Chenonceau

International from Nantes the previous evening to organize a final emergency cash advance from Western Union to tide me over until I got back to Australia; which I had arranged to collect upon my arrival in Paris. Unfortunately for me, I had not realized that every one of the Western Union offices in Paris would be closed by seven o'clock in the evening - meaning I would not be able to spend the entire day riding around the Loire Valley from chateau to chateau as I had hoped and still be able to make it to Paris in time to collect my cash advance before checking into my hostel. :-(

So having resigned myself to the fact that I would not be able to explore the Loire Valley any further, I was in no hurry to get to Paris on the friday afternoon; rather choosing to stay in Tours for a few hours to spend some more time on the internet catching up on my e-mail correspondence. Unfortunately though I had underestimated how much money I would need to get to Paris, and with forty-one euros and twenty-three cents left in my wallet (actually a sunglasses case, since I

Iconic Loire Valley scene

Chateau Chenonceau

had no wallet) I discovered to my horror that my ticket to Paris would cost forty-one euros and forty cents - leaving me seventeen cents short! And do you think anyone in line for tickets at the train station was prepared to give a cash-strapped backpacker twenty cents to pay for his ticket? Hell, no! :-(

So left with no other choice, all I could do was wait another hour for a slower - and therefore cheaper - regional train to arrive; which fittingly would not get me to Paris until 7:03pm - three minutes after the last Western Union office in the city would close for the day!

To be continued...

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