Biarritz

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Biarritz.

The cool, wet weather continued as we motored on westward about 160km toward the Atlantic coast. Arriving in the resort town of Biarritz, we headed directly for the lighthouse which lies on a promontory on the north end of the famous surfing beach. Some weeks earlier I had checked the weather conditions in Biarritz; at that time it was sunny and about 30°C. Today it was more like 8°C and wind driven rain coming off the ocean made it quite uncomfortable. It was certainly scenic, however, as the surf pounded the cliffs that bracket the beach, sending up great sheets of spray. Waves roared in on the beach and would have given an exciting ride to anyone who dared to be out there on a surf board – as one lone sole was.

Returning to town, the bus dropped us off just outside the casino. It was a sad sight to see as the main street had been closed to traffic to allow for an open air bazaar of high end shoes and clothes, but the weather was keeping all but the hardiest indoors. We, however, had a mission. The rumor that France's finest macaroons were to be found in a particular store somewhere around there had us donning our warmest wet-gear and setting out in search of the treasure, and the weather be damned. Having been successful in this quest we wandered down to the beach, through the sea-spray, and into the deserted casino. Then out to the main street again where we loitered in the cold and wet hoping the bus would return soon.

Biarritz is probably a happening place to be in nice weather, but today, not so much. Our bus delivered us to our hotel, out by the airport and quite distant from downtown. The hotel was the very definition of unremarkable, which is why I can’t remember a thing about it.

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