From Ciboure to Irun in Spain by Chateau d'Abbadie - Ciboure, France
Ciboure, France
It's 3 am. I got up to open the windows wider and admire the constellation of lights - the stellar ins in the sky and the multi-coloured ones of Saint Jean de Luz below and Biarritz far away. I dreamt of a stormy meeting between us in Startup Canada and some mentally sclerosed government officials. No wonder I woke up... Now, I'll try to go back to sleep curious to know where else my wondering dream-thoughts will take me. This time I woke up because of the bright lightnings across the bay and the faint thunders coming after them. And the though? It was about the wild bushes of blackberries encountered along the trail on the sea cliffs. I tasted a few - small but delicious. That taste is still with me now in the middle of the night. It brought back memories of other blackberry encounters - those 28 years ago on the winding hilltop road in Tuscany South of Sienna towards Montalcino and then those more recent still of the surprise blackberries along the by circle trail by the sea surrounding Stanley park in Vancouver. What will the next moments of sleep bring? The next moment was the feeling that the sun was ready to appear and I jumped out of bed to the window to catch the show. It was splendid! But so damn difficult to capture it on the iPhone camera. Still, I hope I did get a few shots- especially of the bay and the hundreds of fishing boats on the sun-yellowed waters of the river into Saint Jean de Luz. We are "far West" here and the sun shows up after 8 in the morning although it's still the middle of September. And then, after my 40 minutes of stretches I went down for breakfast! What a gorgeously-set table! And the young owner (his mother died 6 months ago and he came back to continue the hosting tradition) was so proud showing me the various corners - that of blue chins, that of crystal, that of silver things, green porcelain or the many bibelots from the world. I ate too much, I wrote "challenging" ideas to the boys - to challenge father or grandma to cook some of the Basque recipes or bring them here to taste them "de vrai". And I talked about Canada with the young couple from Corrèze who (lucky them!) are staying here for 5 days. They told me not to miss the Chateau d'Abbadie which they saw yesterday... It's already 10 am and I should have left long ago... but it's so damn difficult to leave such an enchanting place like this villa Errisolettean! But I must, and I shall the moment I finish this sentence... Nature is nature and beautiful some times in all its variety of shapes and colours. Cap Breton is gorgeous but there is no comparison with the corniche here in the Pyrennées Atlantiques - all because of the people and their coloured houses plus the unbelievable varied vegetation from wild blackberries to bamboo forests, from yummy apple orchards to trails lost among wild ferns, from... And then there are the perfumes - of the sea, of the hay, of the wild flowers and most of all the irresistible perfume of "chevrefeuille" you can see in one of the pictures. I even sent a picture to Morris and Mila at Les Baux de Provence to take advantage of Morris' encyclopaedic knowledge but I am afraid they are travelling in the States and won't answer me in time. But, lucky me, the lady at the little sandwich bar by the beach told me: "chevreufeuille". But I still can't remember the name in English despite all the books I've read that praised it to the sky. Now, I "cheated" and looked on Google Translate: it is "honeysuckle"! Of course, and we even planted a few of them by the house in Manotick only that there we never got this heavenly perfume. Eh! That's life! But let's come back to the walking. It is 2.30 pm now and it is my first proper rest for the day after 12 km of walking through heaven on earth. I am at a sandwich shack - right on the beach across the river from Hondarribia in Spain. The tides see low and I'll have another 3 km of walking on the tide-deserted beach to the place where the little ferry will take me to Spain. What am I having on top of the wild blackberries and quasi-wild Suzette apples I picked on the trail? A superb panini with "jambon du pays tomate oignon piment doux fromage" followed by a "gaufre abricot" with a petite but intense café noire and a Perier gazeuse. But let's get back to the morning after I finally and reluctantly left the villa. As usual, I tried to cut a short down the Ciboure hilly streets to the road by the sea... Only to find myself 1/4 down in a cul-de-sac on some private property and had to trudge all the way back up the hilly streets to take the recommended route which was actually much faster and got me down by a nice treed park in 20 minutes. A good lesson which cost me time as I departed from Ciboure by the sea around 11 - which I thought at the time to be awfully late. But the corniche trail was so enchanting, so colourful, perfumed and ever-changing that I did not notice that I covered km after km in "no time". Met lots of people from all over France and the world, ate lots of wild blackberries and took lots of pictures. As of now, my iPhone has about 16000 pictures despite my spending time deleting the duplicates and the messed ones. I had eaten too many little breads with butter and honey or apricot jam in the morning. I could not even think to stop for eating before 2.30 pm at the sandwich shack on the Hendaye beach. The blackberries and two wild apples were sufficient. I loved so much the trail by the corniche that I would love going again on it with Jack and some of those idiot friends of mine who preferred the stuffy concert halls... Are you reading this my idiot (nameless) friends? The trick will be to get Jack out of school in the 2nd half of September - the best time to come here, as we did 2 years ago when we took him to The Loire, Grenoble, Provence, Corsica, Portofino, Monte Carlo and Paris. He learned then with us (and Anca & Mihai and Jana, Andrei, Morris and Mila) much more than staying those two weeks in school. Next year I would love to come here again plus some mountaineering in Switzerland, plus Paris and/or London. Or Rome... Again, my thoughts diverged... We were at the Hendaye 4 km long beach which I had to cross to get to the bus-boat to Hondarribia in Spain. Mind you, it was a pleasure to see the people frolicking in the waves and on the sand. And to dip my boots in the Atlantic. I thought about getting them off but it would have been too much. I resisted the temptation and kept on walking, got to the little boat and crossed the harbour and the estuary to find myself in Spain. Nobody asked anything or even said "boo". But what a change: from the charmingly light architecture of Ciboure and SJL to that of Spainish Hondarribia and Irun with their suburbs and industrial complexes. It was do in enchanting I took the bus over to the Atalaia hotel, which looks modest on the outside but is quite elegant inside. Friendly people too. I even used the reception PC to help Barry with a problem. After the shower and the washup I rested with the TravelPod, fell a little asleep and went to eat downstairs a scrumptious dinner. Now my eyes are closing and my fingers on my blog. I'll stop and go to sleep. Tomorrow is the longest walk: 27 km going all the way up to Sanctuario de Guadelupe on Mount Jaizkibel and then Fort Enrique before invading the Spanish summer capital: San Sebastián. So, a demain!