St George's Day on the beach!

Happy Saint George's Day!

We celebrated in England, for once - Ben is back home but the boys and I are staying with his parents in Somerset.

This afternoon the sun was shining and we had a thrilling time making sandcastles on Burnham beach.

The tide came in and the boys were thrilled and horrified in equal measures to see their moats filling up with water!

There is nothing like the sea when you live in the centre of southern France...

An elemental post - Water

When I posted about air the other day I realised that I'd probaly be able to work my way through the elements using holiday photos - holidays are quite elemental things, really.This post is also related to my resolution to enjoy life to the full. One of the things I first found myself really enjoying this year, for maybe the first time, was taking the boys to the swimming pool. I decided not to get stressed, not to get worried, not to get bored, and just enjoy it. Guess what - it was really enjoyable!

So I had an inkling that it might actually be possible to enjoy sea-bathing too, and I tried it out with rather more confidence than I have on previous holidays (the sea wasn't grey, except on the evening I took these photos). And - guess what? - it was fantastic! I wonder how up-tight I've been all these years, not to enjoy such a full-on elemental experience? (Ben need not reply. I know the answer, really...)

Since I was driving the Car Without Airconditioning today (33° inside and out), I leapt into our little pool as soon as I came home. Once again, relax and enjoy the moment...

Note to self: This principle probably works throughout life, not just with regard to water...

By the sea...

One thing I miss so much about living in a bigger country, a country which is not an island, is the sea.
j
It has genuinely been over a year since we last saw the sea, and that has taken its toll in an odd, un-definable sort of way. So when Son 2 announced: 'I want to swim in the sea every day of this holiday!', I decided to support him in this challenge. We were staying with Ben's parents last week, in a gîte only a few kilometers away from the Atlantic coast, in the Pays Basque.

The people of the Pays Basque of France are linked by language, culture and blood to the Spanish Basques known for their terrorist connections (actually - they have declared a permanent ceasefire, did you know?), but although the French Basques are strongly independent they welcome tourists so that people can learn about their unique heritage. They speak a languge that pre-dates any other European one, which mainly seems to consist of the letters X and Z, if road signs are anything to go by. They build (yes, they still build them) big white houses with red paintwork - originally the wood was coloured with oxblood.They make cider, catch fish, grow and weave linen, play pelota and sing passionate songs for tourists and locals alike.So, what did we do?

We went up a steep mountain (La Rhune) by train, and came down it on foot...

We hunted for, and found, fossils on a sloping cliff we'd discovered when staying nearby a few years ago.Ben's parents took the boys to the aquarium in Biarritz and Ben and I took the opportunity to walk around the town and see the sights...I took the dog for a walk to the local village, and found a beautiful church (possible Basque first and Christian second, I felt...)

And past the traditional Basque gravestones of the churchyard, I spotted the Cidrerie du Fronton, where Ben's mum booked us in for a quite stunningly traditional, delicious and enjoyable meal at communal tables (du cidre à volonté !) on our last evening.

And yes, Son 2 did swim in the sea every day - sometimes with his dad and his granny, often with me, and, on our last day, with everyone in the family together in the surf! A wonderful holiday.

j

Tomorrow, the boys go back to school - yes, it's the rentrée! In honour of this yearly event, I will be holding my now-yearly Rentrée giveaway. Do pop back over the next few days for resolutions and the chance to win some goodies. And thanks so much for your comments and kind thoughts while I've been away. It was wonderful to be there, but now it's great to be back.

The Sea! The Sea!

I've always found the Mediterranean very disappointing as a sea. I grew up on various Atlantic coasts, and spent quite a lot of adult life not far from the North Sea, so the tranquil Med, with its hoards of people and lack of waves, has never cut the mustard with me. Until this time, I'm happy to say! We headed to the coast on our second afternoon, as cousin 3 was complaining that she hadn't even SEEN the sea yet. Despite the lowering clouds and occasional crashes of thunder, she and our two boys had a quick dip.

Our second visit to the sea was in the very different conditions of a baking Spanish headland. Those mountains you see in the background are the other side of the same Pyrennean peaks you saw in my first photo.

Son 1 headed off enthusiastically to assess the bay we'd seen - was it fit for bathing, and could his grandparents get down to it? So, OK, he was a bit optimistic, but in the end everyone did scramble down to it and it was marvellous for bathing and snorkelling.

The wind was roaring in, but that was rather invigorating in the heat. And it's very hard to get our two out of the water, once they get in. Ben took them, one at a time, right out around the rocks and off to some interesting shoals of fish, partly to assess their swimming skills, which he deemed very good.

This assessment gave us the confidence to go, on another day, to the Banyuls snorkel trail, just on the French border. Ben and Son 2 headed off and read all the underwater pannels which gave them information on the different coastal environments they were swimming through. Son 1 was really tired after an early morning fishing trip, so he gave the snorkel trail a miss, on the understanding that we'll go back there one day! You can see the yellow buoys of the snorkel trail below the cliff on my photo.

But what really convinced me that the Mediterranean can truly live up to my expectations of the sea was a bracing walk on the windy headland just south of Banyuls, and therefore on the border of France and Spain.

The wind was roaring in off the sea and whipping our hair, our clothes and the white-tipped waves.

It was everything I hope for the sea to be.

So I can live for a while longer in the relatively land-locked (land-locked for a Brit, anyway) region of Toulouse now.

j

I have had my fix of the sea.