The South Coast of France

On our journey north towards the city of lights, we made a few stops along the South-West Coast of France: Biarritz, Hossegor and La Rochelle.

After we hopped over the border to France I immediately had that feeling that the Wizard of Oz so perfectly sums up-"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore". Our days of backpacker-friendly places in Spain and Portugal were behind us, and we had to get used to paying about double for accommodation in the areas and using the expensive SNCF rail network in France. But after getting used to this the coast had some really beautiful places that we visited over 6 nights:

BIARRITZ-

Our original plan was to spend a few nights in Biarritz before heading to La Rochelle, but since we left it to the day before to book it seemed accommodation options were very limited. The one hostel in town was booked, the other one was in a terrible location a couple of towns away that wouldn't have been worth the effort, and everywhere else only had 1 night availability. In the end we decided to luxe it up and go for a 3 star hotel for one night and have our own room for a change (and to us it felt like a 6 star hotel), and even went out for a nice Mexican feast. We got to have a brief tour of the town by walking around at sunset, and the beautiful french buildings sitting on the cliffs really looked like castles.

In Biarritz we also had our first taste of proper French food: Mike walked in the morning to check the surf and he came back with some French baked delicacies (chocolate croissant and a praline/fruit bun) and some coffees to have for brekkie in our hotel room. Even though we were only there for 1 night, it felt like we got to spoil ourselves in Biarritz.

HOSSAGOR-

A late addition to our itinerary, our trip to Hossager was the definition of 'winging it'. We woke up after our night in Biarritz, and after enjoying our pastry for breakfast, realised that we had to actually find somewhere to stay for the next two nights. A quick look on google and Mike found out the Quicksilver Pro world series surfing comp was on in Hossagor at the same time, and we thought 'we are only about an hour away- why not!'. Since it was a very spur of the moment decision, we realised accommodation options were limited, and so we were happy when we called a 'hostel' that told us we could get a place to stay for €50/night, Mike could hire a board for €10/day, and that they could pick us up from the bus station in Hossegor.

With just a timetable in hand and absolutely no idea where we staying, just the vague promise that 'some guy' would pick us up in Hossegor, we took two buses and ended up in the town. It was only on the bus that we started joking around at how we really had no clue what we were in for: we didn't know the address of the place we were going to be staying, hadn't read reviews or anything like we normally do, and didn't even know the name of the guy picking us up. Half an hour later a blue van full of surfboards, 3 guys and a young boy rolls around the corner. The driver with an English accent sticks his hand out the window to Mike and says 'you the guy from the phone?'. So with that introduction out of the way, we hopped in, dropped our bags at a place and then got a lift to the beach.

The guy (whose name turned out to be Rob) had packed a board in the van for Mike so he was very stoked that he could surf straight away. Mike had to pay a €100 deposit for the board- the first time he has had to so far- and so he was hoping not to snap it on one of the many shore breaking waves. The weather was perfect- sunny but not too hot- which meant I got to spend time sunbaking and reading on the beach. Later in the afternoon, we watched some of the Quicksilver pro, and it seemed it wasn't just Mike who had to worry about snapping boards: after one particularly big wave we saw Mick Fanning run down the beach, minus his board, and all of these people rushing to claim one of the broken halves of the board that washed up on the sand.

By 7pm, the hostel guy Rob had said to meet him in one spot because he was doing a run of lifts home. 45 minutes later, it was starting to get dark and there was no Rob in sight, so we started on foot for the 45 minute trek home. We were hoping to pass a supermarket on the way but since we had no orientation of the town, and it was about 9pm by the time we made it back, we arrived with no fresh food and takeaway options a good half hour walk back into town. Luckily I had been carrying around some rice and pasta from when we have cooked, and one of the guys in the house gave Mike a tin of tuna, so we roughed it and had boiled rice for dinner. Nothing to post photos of from that meal!

The place we stayed was not actually a hostel, but a share house that was rented out by foreigners who worked seasonally in the local restaurants. Since all of those people were mostly guys from England, it was essentially a male share house. Add to this the fact that up until a few weeks ago, 17 people had been sharing the place, and you can imagine just how clean it was. But cleanliness aside, the house itself looked pretty cool, and had a big backyard with hammocks and a ping pong table. And since we spent all of our days getting the last of the surf and sun in that we could, it really was just a place to sleep at night.

Hossegor itself had 'beach town' written all over it, and the main town street reminded me of Byron Bay: everywhere you looked there was someone sleeping in a campervan and especially because of the quicksilver pro, there were surfers everywhere so it had a nice relaxed vibe to it.

On our last day there it was the semi-final of the Quicksilver Pro, and we got to see Kelly Slater in action as he had two good waves in a row- a 9.33 and a perfect 10. While that was good to watch, my favourite part was the English-speaking French commentator, who didn't hold back showing that he loved Kelly Slater. For all of the other heats he would just refer to the surfers as red and white (the colour of their rash shirts). But when Kelly's turn came, the French guy was screaming through the microphone in his funny accent 'Kelly is on fire' and 'whoop and make noise for Mr Slater, this is his day today'.

The finals were held the next morning at 8am. Unlucky for us, the only bus that would get us back to Biarritz in time for the train we had booked was leaving in the morning as well. So not only did we miss the final, we couldn't get a lift back to the bus stop because everyone in town was watching it, so it was an early morning 2.5km hike for us with our bags... Definitely getting some exercise over here!

We had our first encounter with the French rail system, and must have caught it on a bad day because both of our trains that day were delayed. But eventually, we made it to our next destination: La Rochelle.

LA ROCHELLE
This little port town was the last stop on our way up the coast of France, and it was one of the best because we got to meet up with friends from home- Annabelle, who is studying in La Rochelle for a semester, and Andrea, who is on exchange in Nottingham and happened to be visiting Annabelle that same weekend.

We stayed in an awesome b&b that was right near the train station in the centre of town- it worked out cheaper than the hostel we were looking at, and we got our own room and bathroom (we have been well and truly spoiled over the last week). On our first night we had a typical French meal out with Annabelle and two of her friends from uni, and it was a lovely and not too cold night.

Sadly the next day the rain came. It held off in the morning while we went to the local markets in town, where you could buy all these fresh and amazing fruit, veggies and fresh breads. But after doing a tour of the town and walking back to check out Annabelle's home, it really started pouring.

The rain had well and truly set in by night time which was particularly bad timing, because we were going to a 21st birthday of one of Annabelle's friends from uni. The birthday girl lived about 25 minutes from our place, so by the time we got there we were all soaked.

We got to meet all the international students that Annabelle is studying with, and also met a French girl who was 'interesting' to talk to- she was very passionate about her love of France, and we learnt that the French really don't like the English, and she spoke of them in a way that is pretty similar to the way Australians speak about people from Tasmania. When we asked her why, her answer was Joan of Arc. Seems the French really can hold a grudge...

The party was a fun night, though an ongoing battle with a cold meant that by midnight I had lost my voice. It wasn't until the early morning the next day that we made it home, so we spent our Sunday having a nice relaxing sleep in and didn't venture out of the b&b until the afternoon. Mike and I went to get a bite to eat and tried a French crepe with banana and nutella, walked around the town a little which was mostly closed since it was Sunday, and then returned to our hotel- it was nice to have a day where we could stop and recharge and escape from the rain indoors. That night we met up with Annabelle and Andrea for dinner and since most things were closed, we had a 'traditional' French meal- pizza.

On our last morning we met up with them in the town once more, and got to visit one of the three towers of La Rochelle (basically the biggest tourist attractions in town) that guard the port. They are apparently the only buildings that were spared from destruction during the Great Siege of France (1627-1628, or so the brochure tells me). We only went to the Saint Nicolas tower, which has this nice big slope to it inside because it was built on wood foundations placed over silt.. apparently not the most stable foundation there. We made it to the top and then the rains, once again, set in for a while, until shortly before we had to leave to catch the train to Paris.

We said our farewells, and hope to meet up with them both again- we are aiming for Amsterdam with Annabelle and hopefully we will cross paths with Andrea in the UK.

It was nice getting to know the French culture during our trip to La Rochelle. From speaking to Annabelle and the other students who are all living in La Rochelle it seems that a lot of the stereotypes about the French have actually been true so far: they really feel like they are the centre of Europe, and don't see the point in traveling to any other country than France because they have the mentality that 'why would we need to travel when France has everything'. They are not overly polite people when you don't speak their language, though it was cool to see Annabelle practice her French when we would go to shops and try and strike up a conversation with the store people. We went to one cafe and Annabelle ordered a mocha- something very untypical for the French- and she then had to explain what it was and that it was a common order back in Australia, to which the French cafe lady replied 'that's disgusting'. So she struck up a nice friendly chat there. It was also really good having someone to translate menus and order food politely when we went out, rather than our preferred method of just pointing and trying to muster the best "s'il vous plait' that we can.

All in all it was a great three days to catch up with friends, and now I am really excited for our next destination- Paris!!