The first week in my new home was spent scouting out surf spots, running routes and the best boulangerie to find a gâteau basque.
With ten days free before starting a new job, I was looking forward to having some downtime after a busy Christmas to settle into life on the coast and find my bearings. It just so happened that those ten days happily coincided with a week of glorious winter sunshine here on the Bay of Biscay. Unpacking could wait, the waves were calling and so began a short but very sweet holiday getting lost in the French Basque Country. Finding hidden beaches beneath wild cliffs, failing to pronounce the basque road signs and stopping off for a chocolatine or two along the way. The rolling green hills made me nostalgic for England, but there’s something about the ocean air here which makes me feel at home.
Some postcards to make you jealous…
(N.B. Don’t be too envious, I’m writing this wrapped up in bed praying that the tempest outside won’t tear my French doors from the hinges. I haven’t seen the sun for six days now and was housebound on Sunday thanks to a furious storm named Doris. Please could you kindly f*** off now Doris).