At last, the computer is available and the chores are done...
Trivia Time: Which country has Europe's largest sand dune and whereabouts in that country? Answer: France and Arcachon!
Climbed up the bastard with help from the fibreglass staircase and rose to the full 110 metres of it's peak (albeit not really 'peak-like'). This mother of all dunes is 2.7 km long and stands out like the proverbial. Without a doubt this is all viewable via Google Earth to those who are interested.
Quite an unexpected little paradise this place, with history to boot and a dynamic hydrology within and at the entrance to its basin. Which just so happens to produce some of Europe's best oysters. Totally wasted on yours truly, of course.
Once again the smoke haze and associated clinging odour made meals difficult but the accommodation was really quite something. The area is predominantly tourist-driven but was apparently fairly quiet as the season was just ending with school holidays the climax of the good times.
This meant the noisy little buggers were running around incessantly using the echo of the corridors to great effect. Pleasant images of shotgun pellets being hurriedly propelled through the air towards said munchikins led o some relief of the tension.
The rest of the tension relief was found in a captivating little town called St Emilion. There is some superb wine on its way home a little later from this little gem of a town. Some history:
St Emilion was an 8th century religous dude with connections. He dug himself a hole in the ground and was a saint because when the King heard he had been distributing food to the poor, saif fellow with delusions of grandeur pulled him up about. Something like 'Ey you, Guv, wots up yer skirt?' I'm sure was said by the 'Person Whom We Did Not Vote For'.
Now St Emilion being a thief and a briggand had indeed been pilfering from the rightful owner of the bread and knowing this said 'Tis but wood, Sire' and indeedy doody pulled out a lump of fibrous and stringy solid timber-like material. This was in fact the bread but nobody could tell the difference (not like you give the 'good stuff' to the plebs).
The King and everybody else thinking this was a miracle called it as such and he became a saint. BTW, there may...potentially... be some embellishment to this story but then it wouldn't be a story (and besides not like I started the pork pies with this one).
Eventually other people landed there and dug out the limestone for buildings and made catacombs and stuff (Lord of the Rings type in the dwarf cave but on a much smaller scale). A king built a fort in the 12th century and the city hasn't changed much since. Well, okay, maybe some 16 century influence and stuff but definitely no highrise. Unless you count the fort.
Had a wonderful hearty lunch there and tried some very special wines. Even the bakery that invented the macaroon some 500 years ago is still there. My pick so far in Froggy Land.
Not much left to Bordeaux except this area is what I imagined France to be like. The change of season has brough wondrous colours to the vineyards and mixed with the collection of old buildings and monuments, a definite place to return to.
