When: 28/04/2012
Where: Biarritz, France
Stayed: Arima Biarritz B&B
Not sure if there’s anything more disappointing than a long range weather forecast for rain, rain and more rain when you’re about to embark on a coastal holiday. My inner optimist hoped for the best but it wasn’t looking good. Our worst fears were realized as we stood in line at the car rental desk and watched as sheets of rain made a joke of people’s umbrellas. I can now say with confidence that endeavouring to navigate rivers of water with wheelie bags is significantly harder than it looks…!We stayed in a bed and breakfast called Arima Biarritz – hosted by friendly locals Annie and Marc. Nicely renovated and cosy, the accommodation was welcoming. The only downside being the 20min walk into town and the terrific acoustics in the place. Unfortunately our french neighbors enjoyed late night shenanigans that even the best wax moulded ear plugs couldn’t block out. We relaxed a bit once we realized it wasn’t a cat being strangled. Ahhh when in Rome!
Our first night we wasted no time in discovering the local culture. We found our way to Bar Basque with an extremely friendly waitress who was almost a little too quick to start speaking English – is it a bad sign that she switched to English off the back of my ‘Bonsoir’…? Twenty-four tapas and umpteen glasses of red wine later we declared Bar Basque the best tapas bar we’d ever been to. Rolling out the door we were met with what felt like gail force winds and horizontal rain. Weather not for the faint hearted or cheap umbrella. Justin’s umbrella refused to play ball and became a hazard of bare spokes and unpredictable movement. Hmmm oddly it seems the £4 umbrella just wasn’t up to the task…
Biarritz sits on the Bay of Biscay in south western France. Probably the most popular view of the town is seen from Le Phare – The Lighthouse. We preferred the less touristy area to the East of the town where you could walk up a million stairs to the cliff tops and see right along the coast line to Spain. With 6km of surf beach, and 10 surf schools wi
th wet-suitclad frenchlings dashing around, it’s no great surprise that Biarritz is dubbed the historical capital of surfing in Europe.
Biarritz is known as a luxurious sea side resort. It’s clean, safe and friendly with the prices unfortunately reminding us of it’s ‘luxurious’ status and the reason for a distinct lack of riff raff. Despite it’s well-to-do reputation, the town is full of character with lovely little narrow streets and boutique shops you won’t find on any other high street. Patisseries and tapas bars dominate the scene but the real star of the show is the daily fresh food market housed under cover in the centre of town. Heaven for any self respecting foodie.
Pretty much every day we visited ‘Heaven undercover’ and stocked up on enough goodies to feed a small nation. Day 2 we packed a lunch of fresh bread, cheese, strawberries, dried fruit, ham off the hock, olives, pesto and nuts and headed down the cost to Saint Jean de Luz – another magnificent coastal town. Originally a famous fishing village, today Saint Jean de Luz is a gastronome delight, with fantastic restaurants, sheltered beaches and boutique shops. We made our way to prime position hillside with vantage points down the beach one way and out to sea the other. Despite the looming dark clouds creating a spectacular and unnerving display above us, we managed to get through our lunch and onto a cafe before the heavens completely opened. Phew!
Probably the best meal we had in Biarritz was at a restaurant we found on Trip Advisor called Che Ospi. Looking every bit the Australian tourists, we rocked up at 7.30pm for dinner only to discover the restaurant (like every other restaurant in Biarritz) doesn’t open until 8pm. So ensued a charade of trying to look busy until at least 8.30pm because even though the sign says 8pm – they really mean 9pm. The dance was well and truly worth it though with unforgettable beef and lamb dishes and a dessert that literally rocked our worlds. Divine!
Day 3 the sun came out – hallelujah! A long walk in the sun followed by breakfast beach side at Cafe Bleu was just what the holiday doctor ordered. Unfortunately what the doctor most certainly didn’t order was the steaming pile of dog pooh baking on the footpath just waiting for an unsuspecting tourist to step in. I obliged and proceeded to blaze a trail right into our B&B. I’ve always known the French love their dogs and I’m a dog person from way back – but leaving land mines all over the town = a very stressful sunday stroll!
With the offending shoes in quarantine we took a trip down to Spain for the afternoon. Switching languages was interesting for those of us not particularly adept at either French or Spanish. Fortunately the Spaniards were quite forgiving of the odd ‘merci’ that found its way into our vocab. With the elements completely unpredictable, we decided the best place to experience the town was from a tapas bar. 
San Sebastian has 6 michelin starred restaurants so we had high expectations for the food. Despite this, somehow we managed to order ourselves a fried meatball and duck knuckle at a dodgy looking bar. Hunger does strange things to the decision making process apparently. However, following the crowd to what looked like a dark night club from the outside turned out to be a brilliant second choice. We watched with amusement as the bar tender at Fuego Negro juggled 8 orders while pulling beers as the boisterous crowd attempted to get their orders in before the kitchen shut at 4pm. In amongst the chaos we managed to place an order – we weren’t 100% certain of what we’d ordered but hoped that it was 1. not a friend meatball and 2. not seafood. We were in luck! Fuego Negro turned out to be a very highly regarded tapas bar that was a favorite amongst locals.
The next day locals seemed to be coming out of the woodwork and mini markets with Dog roses and Lily of the valley for sale popped up on the streets – a quick google (yes we are ignorant tourists) revealed May Day celebrations. Locals partied, sang, sold what looked like the contents of their garages and ate themselves into oblivion. Not wanting to be rude we ate and drank in celebration at a number of tapas bars – just doing our bit to support the local community of course.
By the end of the week we were chocker block full of croissants and bread, slightly sunburnt (?!), feeling ill at the thought of another tapas and bearing a faint red wine haze. All good indicators of a fantastic holiday. Biarritz, we’ll be back!
Cathy & Justin Abroad 