Overnight we sailed from La Rochelle to Saint-Jean-de-Luz, in the French Basque region and only a few miles from the Spanish border.
As you can see from the above map, the town is situated on a sheltered bay. Early in the morning, just inside the breakwaters, the view from the ship was impressive. The center of Saint-Jean-de-Luz is on the far left of the photo.
To put this in perspective, later in the day I took a photo from the beach looking outwards towards the Explorer.
We rode the zodiacs into the harbor, which is much more compact than at La Rochelle, which has five times the population of Saint-Jean-de-Luz. This picture shows the floating docks onto which we disembarked.
Our shore excursion then divided into smaller groups, each with a guide, and each small group used radio earphones to follow its guide's commentary as they walked through the streets.
Just across from the docks is the Maison de L'Infante, a handsome pink stone building where Maria Theresa of Spain awaited her husband-to-be, King Louis XIV of France, in 1660.
A plaque, visible at bottom on the edge of the walkway, commemorates the activities of the French resistance during WWII. Saint-Jean-de-Luz was a major transit point for downed Allied airmen escaping to neutral Spain.
Just around the corner we encountered seaweed being unloaded from boats into shipping containers. Seaweed is a name loosely applied to describe several groups of multicellular algae; these plants have culinary, medicinal, cosmetic, and industrial uses. Where this seaweed is bound, I do not know.
Closer up, it looks like this.
The region is famous for its red pepper, the espelette. It is spicy, but not outrageously so, rating about 4,000 units on the Scoville scale. Racks of indestructible copies of these peppers are part of the storefront for the Maison d'Adam outlet in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, which is not far from the docks. Joan and I stopped here on our way back and bought some candies and chocolate, including a dark chocolate bar with espelette peppers that was very good.
Our morning tour passed by the beach, seen in the earlier photo. This building next to the beach caught my eye. Its shape was reminiscent of the Flatiron in New York City, although much smaller and older.
We saw the symbol of the Basque country everywhere in Saint-Jean-de-Luz as we walked from site to site. Originally it was a swastika, but after that symbol was hijacked in the 1930s/1940s it was altered to echo the original form but not invoke the memories of World War II. Here is a closeup ...
... that is part of a shop awning on the ground floor.
Many of the homes were profusely decorated with flowers on windows or petite balconies.
Next we arrived at the church Saint-Jean-Baptiste, where Louis XVI and Maria Theresa were wed.
The nave is ornate, in contrast to the plain exterior of the church.
When you look in the other direction, the church interior reflects its modest, small town origins.
This is not a deficit, but rather a refreshing change from the imposing cathedrals that we saw elsewhere in the trip. Hanging in the center, as you see above, is a ship model, representing the maritime interests of the town, and probably a gesture of thanks from a supplicant.
We wrapped up our morning tour with a visit to the town indoor market. I didn't take a photos inside, but only one of the sign outside, which is in both French and Basque.
For my final image from the morning walk, I present this door knocker.
Joan and I had lunch back aboard the Explorer, although some stayed in town to dine. Afterwards, there were three choices for the afternoon.
- exploring Saint-Jean-de-Luz further on your own,
- a tour of the historical city of Bayonne, or
- a tour of a Basque farmstead and the Basque village of Aïnhoa.
Joan and I chose the Basque tour, which started with a bus ride to the farmstead, Ortillopitz, which dates to 1660.
It's situated in a beautiful location in the rolling foothills of the Pyrenees. The guide at Ortillopitz spoke both French and Basque, but not English,
so the guide that came with the bus translated the narrative for us. Not always reliably, as Joan, who speaks French, discovered. The farmhouse guide described the Basque inheritance traditions, of which we had heard somewhat already: the parents choose the child who they deem most capable to inherit the farmstead, regardless of birth order or gender. The bus guide translated it as "the oldest male inherits." Given that the Ortillopitz guide was Basque and the bus guide not, we're accepting the "most capable" version.
We toured the farmhouse; this photo is of the kitchen. Note the peppers hanging down at the top right.
Here's a closer look. We do like peppers.
I also took a photo in one of the bedrooms.
After touring the upstairs we descended into the basement.
Awaiting us was a spread of local cheeses, meats, and breads. Yum!
Back outside, we had a little while to tour the grounds.
On leaving Ortillopitz the bus did not turn right, to head directly for Aïnhoi, but to the left. The bus was perilously close to the maximum size the road could accommodate, and the angle of the driveway dictated that we turn left to find a better spot, and then turn around. The driver had in mind the parking area for the Petit Train de la Rhune, a small-gauge (one meter) railway that climbs 2500' to the top of Rhune mountain. This snapshot from Google Maps shows Ortillopitz at the right, at the 'A' pin, and the parking area at the upper left; the distance is under a mile (click to enlarge).
However, after heading into the parking lot, we immediately had trouble. The parking lot was not only full, but overfull, and people had parked in inventive and technically illegal ways. The bus, headed in, could not make the two right turns required to head out through the adjacent driving lane. Time for plan B: the driver nosed into a single-lane parking extension, which you can see in the above photo as a long tendril heading left out of the grey blob of the wider parking area. This maneuver aligned the bus with the intended driving lane, but pointed the wrong way. Our driver, with some assistance from spotters outside the bus, had to drive the bus in reverse for several bus lengths, avoiding mis-parked autos, to regain the road and finally have the bus pointed in the right direction. She did a great job under trying circumstances.
Arriving in Aïnhoa, the bus parked at the edge of town in a small lot set aside for buses.
It's clear that Aïnhoa sees a great many tourists; this sign was the first thing we saw. It's written in both French and Basque.
This sign was also nearby.
Translated, it says "If you want my handicap I'll give you my spot."
Aïnhoa village was destroyed in 1629, and rebuilt in the 17th and 18th Centuries. The main street is considered one of the best preserved examples of Basque life.
But do not become complacent about the light auto traffic; you must be careful crossing the main street.
We then visited the village church.
I present a photo towards the nave,
and one towards the back.
The adjacent graveyard is full of fascinating stonework and cultural influences. The Basque symbol is a frequent theme, and the many round shapes may represent a solar influence.
Entire families can be buried, or at least memorialized, in one spot. Here we see family members who died at ages between 1 day and 86 years.
And every Basque village has its own pelota court with bleachers for the spectators. One of the many variations of this sport is known outside Europe as jai alai.
The strategic feature, the marked flat wall, is known in French as the fronton.
My final picture for this post is timestamped about 50 minutes after boarding the bus to leave Aïnhoa, so it is probably taken while walking back to the docks. Ultralight aircraft seem to be popular in France, judging by the many photo opportunities I've had! Note that the wing includes an advertisement for Toyota (a dealership?) -- click to enlarge.
The next day would find us off the coast of Spain, rising early in the morning darkness to visit Bilbao.
Ile d'Aix
After a day at sea, the Explorer was just off Ile d'Aix at sunrise. This very small island is nestled amongst various arms of the French coast, just south of La Rochelle.
We were ferried to shore by zodiac.
The structure on the right of the photo is Fort Boyard, a 19th Century fortification and now a location for French and international filming of silly game shows. I do have a closer view, which shows that the fort was built on one of the many shoals in the area.
The early morning light was also good for a zoom-in on the Explorer.
Our landing was called a dry landing because you don't get your feet wet, which would happen if the zodiac just ran up onto the beach. This video clip shows how a dry landing typically works. For a wet landing, guests would be wearing boots and swinging their legs over the sides into several inches of water.
The largest claim to fame of Ile d'Aix is that it was where Napoleon stayed for the his last few days of freedom before surrendering to the British. The southernmost tip of the island has the jetty/dock and the historic Fort La Rade, whose walls are the first thing a visitor sees.
After passing through the gates, you encounter some footpaths and this map. Being such a small island, it would be difficult to get lost.
The main cluster of non-residential buildings, including shops, a hotel, and the Napoleon Museum, are within the old walls of Fort La Rade.
But Joan and I were not here primarily for the sights; we had an opportunity to meet again with Serge and Jeanne, our guests from 2½ years before. We landed only thirty minutes before the ferry from the mainland, so we had to dash back to the dock to meet them! Jeanne and Serge are on the right ...
The four of us walked along the island's edge, taking in such items as late 19th and early 20th Century gun mounts.
But most of the time was spent visiting, strolling, catching up.
There is a seasonal restaurant just off the central road.
Joan and I had to return in time for the last zodiac, and that timetable was driven by the tide. Which was going out.
So we had to bid adieu and au revoir to Serge and Jeanne, and ride the zodiac back to the Explorer. We were on board by 11:00, and after the ship winched up all the zodiacs,
we began a gentle repositioning to La Rochelle. It being a Sunday with fair weather, there was a great deal of mid-day activity to see in these sheltered waters. First, the view of the entire Ile d'Aix.
Zooming in,
The area was being visited from the air,
by catamaran,
and by kayak. These kayakers had paddled over from the mainland.
Shoals, exposed by low tide, were being visited by people harvesting seafood (click on the photo to enlarge).
La Rochelle
After lunch we visited La Rochelle. It was a long zodiac ride in, because the Explorer had to stand off in the shallow waters.
We landed on a dock just outside the innermost harbor, which is guarded by the Tour de la Chaîne and Tour Saint-Nicholas. The Tour de la Chaîne is so named because it housed the chain that could be drawn across the mouth of the harbor to block hostile ships. In this photo, the Tour de la Chaîne is the one on the left. Note the kayak in the channel.
Today was a double-reunion day. We were met at the dock by Bruno Corson, who Joan had met during her junior year abroad. Thus we had a private walking tour, much to our advantage, and a chance to catch up after many years. Bruno is the handsome gentleman on the left.
We visited the Tour de la Chaîne, but didn't stay long. Note the flag atop the tower; does it look familiar? It's the flag of Quebec. La Rochelle was the main port of emigration from France to Quebec during the 17th and 18th Centuries.
Looking down from the ramparts ...
Looking out, you can see the parking area for the esplanade.
On the far right you can see a walkway to the third tower of the port, the Tour de la Lanterne. This tower was a highlight of the afternoon for us, and it was a place that the guided tour groups did not (and probably could not) go. Here is an aerial view covering the ground of the above photo.
The Tour de la Lanterne was used as a prison for many years, and the prisoners found the soft stone walls of the tower a suitable canvas for carving, to pass the time.
Some were much more elaborate than others.
Here is one carved by a Richard Dowling, surgeon of the privateer Prince of Wales, captured in 1745. Click to enlarge.
There are also Dutch carvings,
and even a locomotive.
The Tour de la Lanterne is 72 meters (236 feet) high, and access to the upper floors, with the prisoner carvings, is by a narrow winding 15th Century staircase, which is one reason why it's not suitable for large groups. As it is you should observe the listening protocol: before you begin to go up or down to the next floor, listen to see if anyone is already on the staircase. There is little room to pass. But one advantage to climbing to the top is the view, and here we are looking out over the old town.
We could also look across to the dock where all our zodiacs were parked.
Back inside, the view up to the crown of the tower was worth the effort of bending your neck backwards.
The three of us saw a few other sights in La Rochelle.
But soon we settled down at a sidewalk café for some tea and a long chat. Bruno presented us with a present, a book of watercolors.
He is a self-taught artist, in addition to being a gardener and retired schoolteacher. This book came about because the mayor of a small town who also owned a printing company attended a show featuring some of Bruno's watercolors,
and proposed the idea of an art book showcasing paintings of the various municipalities of the region.
Soon it was time for us to say goodbye,
and Joan and I took the long zodiac ride back to the Explorer. It had been a fulfilling day.
