Biarritz - where life is so hard you want to end it all
It is such an amazing thing to see the ocean. An expanse of nothingness until the horizon with an energy like no other. Having the ocean with in view is a very important thing for me; hearing the waves, smelling the salt air, swimming in the fish piss…it’s all part of my spirit. Donc (Therefore) Biarritz. Where the hell do I start?!?!
Biarritz is a town in the South West of France on the Atlantic coast, just near the Spanish/French border. It stands within the Basque region, an area that encompasses both sides of the border and well known for the antics of E.T.A. (if you don’t know them then Google) over recent decades. The French side of the region has enjoyed relative peace and harmony compared to their Spanish neighbours. As a result…..picture a man, going on a journey beyond sight and sound. He’s left Torquay and entered……..Biarritz!! It has all of the vibe of Torquay but with amazing architecture, European sunbathing the norm and surf….not the first week but the swell picked up during the second.
My host mother was this awesome (although a little senile…..she would call me Connor, the other student’s name, more often than my own but we could generally work out who she was talking too!) widower named Michele. A 63 year old artist who moved the area after the death of her husband four years ago. Unlike many of the host families who accept students because they need the money, often displacing family members to couches or the hallway in order to provide a room for the students, Michele did it for the company. The house was an awesome two-storey place with two studio apartments on the ground floor and her place on the first. The entire place was renovated by Michele with a Moroccan theme, high wooden ceilings , white walls and leafy green plants everywhere. Connor and I shared one of the downstairs studios (the other rented to a former student of the school, a cool Kiwi named Rob). Complete with our own shower, toilet, kitchenette, fridge, microwave and television we were more than comfortable. Being separate from the house also afforded us a lot of freedom and there were no concerns of waking Michele late at night after returning home from….the library?!!
Connor was a 17 year old Irish lad preparing with his two other mates (collectively the Three Musketeers) for their final year at school. Naturally this preparation involved the purchase of items not legally available to a 17 y.o. in Ireland…….Beer!!
As part of the whole “Host Family” deal with school was breakfast and dinner everyday. It’s been a very long time since I’ve got home from anywhere to have home cooked meals ready on arrival. Unlike some of school mates who struggled through something resembling a nutritious meal, Connor and I ate in luxury with some amazing traditional Basque meals, all which came with garden fresh vegetables and included seafood, duck and steaks.
It was clear to me from the first meal when I arrived on the Sunday, an awesome Paella with super fresh seafood and salad, that this was going to be a very difficult 2 weeks. Sometime one must sacrifice certain comforts in order to appreciate life to it’s fullest!!!
Biarritz is a town in the South West of France on the Atlantic coast, just near the Spanish/French border. It stands within the Basque region, an area that encompasses both sides of the border and well known for the antics of E.T.A. (if you don’t know them then Google) over recent decades. The French side of the region has enjoyed relative peace and harmony compared to their Spanish neighbours. As a result…..picture a man, going on a journey beyond sight and sound. He’s left Torquay and entered……..Biarritz!! It has all of the vibe of Torquay but with amazing architecture, European sunbathing the norm and surf….not the first week but the swell picked up during the second.
My host mother was this awesome (although a little senile…..she would call me Connor, the other student’s name, more often than my own but we could generally work out who she was talking too!) widower named Michele. A 63 year old artist who moved the area after the death of her husband four years ago. Unlike many of the host families who accept students because they need the money, often displacing family members to couches or the hallway in order to provide a room for the students, Michele did it for the company. The house was an awesome two-storey place with two studio apartments on the ground floor and her place on the first. The entire place was renovated by Michele with a Moroccan theme, high wooden ceilings , white walls and leafy green plants everywhere. Connor and I shared one of the downstairs studios (the other rented to a former student of the school, a cool Kiwi named Rob). Complete with our own shower, toilet, kitchenette, fridge, microwave and television we were more than comfortable. Being separate from the house also afforded us a lot of freedom and there were no concerns of waking Michele late at night after returning home from….the library?!!
Connor was a 17 year old Irish lad preparing with his two other mates (collectively the Three Musketeers) for their final year at school. Naturally this preparation involved the purchase of items not legally available to a 17 y.o. in Ireland…….Beer!!
As part of the whole “Host Family” deal with school was breakfast and dinner everyday. It’s been a very long time since I’ve got home from anywhere to have home cooked meals ready on arrival. Unlike some of school mates who struggled through something resembling a nutritious meal, Connor and I ate in luxury with some amazing traditional Basque meals, all which came with garden fresh vegetables and included seafood, duck and steaks.
It was clear to me from the first meal when I arrived on the Sunday, an awesome Paella with super fresh seafood and salad, that this was going to be a very difficult 2 weeks. Sometime one must sacrifice certain comforts in order to appreciate life to it’s fullest!!!
posted by santas walkabout at 6:17 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home