France 2024 Part 2

Pauillac

The day I left Chinon, it was sprinkling.  It continued most of the day.  I got the GPS to do mostly back roads but it did have one surprise for me.  Instead of taking to a bridge over the Gironde River to the Medoc peninsula, it found a ferry, an expensive ferry, at Blaye.  It cost $25 for the car plus $5 for the driver, for a 24-minute crossing.  Once I left the ferry, I started to see names that were so familiar, St Julian, Margaux, Lamarque, etc.  I stopped at Chateau la Brindane for a tasting.  The tasting room was upstairs with a panoramic view of the vineyards.  I liked the rose of Merlot and bought 2 bottles, $8 each.  My hotel was a 4 star and my room had a view of the estuary. The room was beautiful but the WiFi wasn’t worthy of a one-star hotel.  I was quite tired from driving in the rain, so I just ate at the hotel restaurant.  Dinner was roasted white asparagus followed by sea bass.  Both were picture-worthy and delicious.  

The next day, a couple of food trucks set up across from the hotel.  One was selling oysters, but I had no way of shucking them, so I walked to the tourist office and along the waterfront.  Along the waterfront, I saw the first trash of the trip.  Pauillac is home to Chateaux La Tour, Lafite Rothschild, and many of the top wineries in Bordeaux.  I was disappointed in the state of the city.  I drove around a bit but all the chateaux were closed, it was Sunday.  Lunch was beef tartar.  Ir was kind of do-it-yourself; there was ½ pound of ground beef and all the condiments, to add as you wished, very good.  Monday I drove up to the northern end of the peninsula, passing many beautiful, but closed chateaux.  They looked just like they do on the wine bottle labels,  St Estephe was the most beautiful.  At the north end is a ferry that goes to Royan; it costs half what the Blaye ferry costs.  Lunch was 6 oysters, a kilo of mussels, a carafe of wine and coffee; $43.  

Tuesday, I resolved myself to the fact that it was the dead season, I was about the only guest in the hotel.  I decided to explore the west coast and the Atlantic beaches.  I visited Lacanau, Carcans and Hourtin.  The beach communities are highly developed and there are many camping places.  Even this time of year, lots of people were camping.  Lunch in Carcans was 12 fat shrimp with a very good remoulade dipping sauce and some sea bass in a nondescript sauce.  A French cyclist, at the next table, chatted with me a bit.  As I continued to wander aimlessly, I stumbled upon the Brion archaeological site; the ruins of a Gallo-Roman town started in the mid-1st century.  It was in the middle of nowhere and I had it to myself.  You could make out the ruins of the walls.  There wasn’t any signage but there were boards for it.  Summer signs only I guess.    On the way back I stopped at Lidl to pick up some wine and pate.  I think I found the bottom end of the economic spectrum.  There was a panhandler at the front door and most of the customers looked like working men.  There was no pate so I got some cheese spread and a demi baguette. A full baguette was $.75.  

Bayonne

Well, the Medoc was not Bordeaux but boredom.  I took the back roads to the city of Bordeaux,  got on the expressway, and stopped.  I guess there was some big wreck, a tow truck, ambulance, and police, passed by.  It took 1 ½ hours to go 15 km.  I should have skipped Arcachon, but wanted to have lunch there.  I managed to find the waterfront; it was jammed with people, there was no parking, and most of the restaurants were pizza.  Trying to navigate the narrow, crowded streets, I almost got hit by someone going way too fast.  I gave up and headed for the first town down the coast, Biscarrosse.  I missed my exit from the roundabout and came out at a nice-looking restaurant, so I stopped.  It was 2:10 and the kitchen was closed.  They said they would make me a duck salad; mixed greens, tomatoes, egg, cheese, duck breast, duck prosciutto, confit duck leg, a big slab of foie gras, and duck gizzards. I never had duck gizzards before, but they were delicious.  I could not finish the whole salad, $34 with wine.   

Sometimes procrastination pays.  I had been looking for a room in the Bayonne area for several days, but they were $200 and up.  Finally, on Tuesday, as I was driving, I decide to do it anyway.  I pulled off in a small town, used my phone, and found a 4 star, close to the city center for $100 and booked 5 nights.  When I arrived, there was a line out the door as a British motorcycle gang was checking in, typical biker gang, clean-cut, middle-aged, couples.  And they did not take up many spaces in the parking lot.  Hotel Bayonne is new, the room is European (small), Breakfast is good ($16), my room looks out at the river, and I can walk to the old center.  I was beat and went straight to bed.  

What can I say about Bayonne?  People have lived here since Paleolithic times.  The Romans came in the first century.  Parts of the 3rd-century Roman walls can be found at various places around town.  The Nive River runs thru town but it is more of an estuary.  When the tide comes in the water flows backward and rises about 10 feet.  The riverfront is lined with cafes.  The heart of the town is cobblestone pedestrianized streets and half-timbered buildings.  The population is about 10,000.  I was about out of energy by this time, so I just wandered the streets or sat and watched the world go by.  The cathedral was nice, the Basque museum was nice, and the best art museum in SW France was closed for renovation, and had been closed for renovation since 2011.  Skulling on the river was a big thing.  The Saturday market was nice.  The main public market was terrific, I wish I had rented an Apartment so I could fix my own meals.  The weather was the warmest of the trip so far, low 80’s one day.  I would love to spend long stretches of time here, but the language.  After a month, I still can’t parse the words when someone speaks.  They seem to understand me well enough in restaurants, and Google Translate works on the menus, but their voice is incomprehensible to me.  

I am walking a lot but am not that hungry.  One night I ate at a basque place; veal tartare with pureed peas, fish over roasted white asparagus, and grapefruit 3 ways, roasted, raw, and in the sauce.  Another night was tapas, serrano ham, and cheese sliders followed by pulled duck with various condiments and crepes to wrap it up in.  One night it was lamb chops, and one night I picked up something at the grocery.  Can a person OD on excellent food?

Gijon (Xixon in the local patois)

I always wanted to visit the NW corner of Spain, Galicia and Asturias, which are inhabited by Celtic people.  My last stop before the (invisible) border was St Jean de Luz which had one of the most beautiful beaches ever. The cove made the beach almost 270 degrees and at least a couple of miles long.  The only way I knew I had crossed the border, was the GPS asked if I wanted to see the local regulations.  As I headed west, along the Bay of Biscay, the road often came close enough to reveal dramatic views of the coastline.  I tried a couple of exits, looking for gas, but only got beautiful scenery.  Finally, I found a station where a lady pumped my gas and gave me a piece of candy when I paid.  In late afternoon, I rolled into Gijon, and between the GPS, phone, and the directions the hotel had sent, I found Hotel Santa Rosa, in the center of the old city.  I drove a couple hundred feet down a pedestrian walk to the world’s slowest car elevator, down to -3.  The parking space had about 3” to spare on each side.  The hotel was charming, the room was larger than expected, and I was, again, beat.  I got some Serrano ham and a bottle of wine at the grocery store.  

Gijon is an old city. The Roman baths date from the first century.  It once was focused on steel and fishing industries, but now it is more into tourism.  There is a peninsula, where the old city was, with a yacht basin on one side and a public beach on the other side.  At the top of the hill, are the ruins of a medieval fortress and a view of the oil terminal.  The restaurants don’t open for dinner until 8 or 8:30 (in 2017 it was 10 or 10:30) So I opted for a late lunch.  El Almacen offered liver with potatoes and eggs; an unusual combination but cooked perfectly.  Later I checked out the ruins of the Roman baths.  On the way back to the hotel I picked up a bottle of Pedro Ximenes (after-dinner sherry).  Gijon is a very comfortable city, lots of cares, old streets that have been restored, and a lovely beach with many benches along the seawall. In France the young people were tall and the people my age were short.

The next day I started out sitting by the malecon (seawall) watching the surfers.  The temp was in the 50’s but there were lots of surfers.  I wandered down the main shopping street, checked out a couple of parks, and looked for lunch.  I tried an interesting-looking place but they said it would be an hour’s wait.  I went back to the hotel and tried the bar/cafeteria.  I had a sandwich, 2 glasses of wine, a bottle of water, and 3 small bites for less than $9.  I made a reservation at the lunch place and showed up there at 8:30 for dinner.  They got the waiter that sorta spoke English and gave me an English menu.  Unfortunately, they were out of the sweetbreads.  I tried to order the sweet pepper starter, but the waiter talked me into the asparagus.  It was the fattest white asparagus ever.  There were 10 pieces, 3 inches long, an inch in diameter, standing on end, served with mayonnaise.  Then I had the clams, I was stuffed.  Apparently, most of the dishes were meant to be shared.  There were only 6 tables upstairs, but the bar was jammed and loud.  

In Gijon, everybody is short, very short. 5’2″ seems tall for the women and many are under 5′. With my purple hair, I did not look like a local anyway.  In France, people spoke English with a British accent but in Spain, they sound more American.  I like the atmosphere in Gijon, but I feel like a spectator.  The day I left it was raining again. What ever the problem was with the phone, it went away, no issues in Bayonne or here.

A Coruna

I tried to hug the coast but did not get much view of the ocean,  After detouring thru some small towns, I got to A Coruna (tilde over the n) mid-afternoon.  The Alda Hotel was probably the nicest 2-star hotel I have ever stayed in.  Their parking garage was full, so I parked in the public garage a few blocks away, they had a special rate.  Much of the old town is pedestrianized and quite charming.  The main square is postcard-worthy.  I tried to go to the museum but it was closed.  Who knew that Galician Literature Day was a major holiday.  Everything seemed to be closed.  Fortunately, most restaurants opened by 8 or 9 pm.  I had octopus, which was a bit overpriced but delicious, and the wine was $3 a glass.  

I am definitely slowing down.  I was trying to see two or three things in a day and now it is one or two.  Breakfast at the hotel was decent.  I went to the Fine Arts Museum late morning.  It was very well done and had a nice Rubens exhibition.  It was a beautiful day, so I decided to walk down to the parking office and deal with my special rate.  It turned out to be a lot longer than I expected.  Once I found it, the attendant was extremely helpful and organized.  By the time I got back to the hotel, I was beat and it was sprinkling.  Dinner was at a very nice tavern, I started with ceviche, followed by seafood croquettes.  There were 6 croquettes, two of each kind.  The squid ink ones were the best.  The wine was less than $3.  

Sunday was bright and sunny.  I took a taxi to the Tower of Hercules.  The driver dropped me off as close as possible.  However, I missed the ticket office.  At the entrance, they helped me to buy a ticket online.  This lighthouse was built by the Romans in the first century AD, on the ruins of a Phonecian lighthouse.  It was rebuilt in the 18th century but preserved the original core, which you can see inside. It was about 1 ½ miles back to the hotel but on a gentle downslope.   I found a place that was open early for dinner and had cockles, razor clams, cheese with quince jelly, 2 glasses of wine and coffee for $34.  There is a definite shortage of veggies here.  The countryside is quite rocky which may explain it.  There was a jazz concert that evening, and I managed to get a free ticket, online.  When I went in and showed my ticket they said; “That is on the 2nd balcony, you don’t want to go there.  Sit here on the ground floor.”  The concert was very good.  The pianist was American and the bass player was the best I have heard in years.  

On Monday I drove to Santiago de Compostela, a major pilgrimage destination.  The GPS did fine, I drove right to a parking garage next to the old city.  The old city felt very medieval with winding alleys, cobbled streets, and extravagant porticos.  When I got to the Basilica, they were stopping most of the tourists but waved me right in.  There was a mass going on inside, I guess I looked like I needed prayers.  I did not get a good look around, as it was quite crowded.  The basilica claims to have the bones of St James, which explains the pilgrimages.  Two laywomen gave invocations, one was wearing shreds.  After a few Spanish prayers, I escaped and sat on the plaza for a while.  As one might expect, the area was crowded with souvenir shops and restaurants.  Religion always involves making money.  The museum was closed, but there were some nice gardens to explore.  Back in A Coruna, I tried dinner in a little cafe by my hotel.  It had been jam-packed every night.  Everyone seemed to know everyone and they were getting things I didn’t see on the menu.  The octopus was great and the wine was cheap ($2.50 a glass).  When I went to pay, my wallet was not in my purse.  Panic started.  I convinced the waitress, who spoke no English, that I left my card in the hotel and would be right back.  When I got to the room, there was no wallet.  Before panic turned to paralysis, I thought back to the last time I used it.  Ah, to pay tolls on the expressway. Two blocks and down into the parking garage, and there was my wallet on the consol of the car.  Four blocks back to the restaurant and all is well.  Except, I had walked off the pleasant buzz from the wine. 

Castro Urdiales

I’m almost 1000 miles from the Paris airport.  That seems like a four-step trip, maybe staying two nights at each stop.  I picked the stops based on distance and the first stop was Castro Urdiales, a seaside resort town west of Bilbao.  It was expressway all the way, but the traffic was light and the scenery was very nice, partly coastal and partly mountainous. It sprinkled off and on but cleared up at the end. I arrived in mid-afternoon and parked in the garage under the seaside esplanade.  It was a short walk to Pension La Mar, a two-star hotel, half a block from the water, $65.  It was definitely only 2 stars, but clean, comfortable, and had an elevator.  I got settled and stopped at the bar next door for a glass of wine, $2.  It was lovely sitting outside, so I ordered another glass.  It was closing time, I begged, and she sold me a glass, locked the door, and said to leave the glass by the door.  I walked down to the harbor, filled with small sailboats and fishing boats, and sat down.  There was a nice view of the castle and church on a promontory looking out over the bay.  I was becoming enamored of this place.  Later, I wandered out for dinner, looking for seafood.  The place I picked was more a bar than a restaurant, but I had a nice fish soup and some fried anchovies.   On the way back, I stopped at La Cueva again.  They have 15 wines by the glass from $1.50 to $2.50 plus small plates and a full bar.  I tipped the barmaid $.50 and she was so excited I thought she was going to dance.  

In the morning, I found a nice breakfast place close to the hotel; Cafe au lait, a ham, cheese, and potato torta, and change from $5.  I walked to the castle, going over a neat medieval bridge.  The views were spectacular.  The castle has been converted into a lighthouse and is not open.  The church was nice and I saw a couple of groups that looked like cruise ship people.  I walked the esplanade, read my book, and went to LaCueva for lunch; a small serrano ham and tomato sandwich and a glass of Albarino, $4.50.  It rained a bit in the afternoon, so I read for a while.  Alfredo’s was recommended for dinner.  I got there about 6:30, they were open for drinks and tapas, but dinner wasn’t until 8.  At first, I had the place to myself.  There were 24 different tapas and pintxos, mostly seafood. He opened a bottle of the local Albarino and I started with sardine fritters.  Then I had bacalao with padrone peppers, followed by stuffed squid, and finally baked scallops in the shell. Everything was amazing.  All this, 4 glasses of wine, and coffee was $30.  I shouldn’t have, but I did stop at La Cueva for a nightcap.  They didn’t have what I wanted, but they got the idea and fixed me something equally satisfying. 

Bergerac

I headed back to France.  It was going to be a long drive, so I let the GPS take me on the expressways.  There were lots of toll roads, $65 worth of toll roads, blowing my daily budget, and more than my toll total for the first six weeks!  I love back roads.  The final 75km were on roads so narrow there was no center stripe, beautiful.  I was booked at the Europa Hotel in Bergerac.  When I pulled up I was taken aback, it was ugly.  I went inside and it was very nice.  The room was very nice, the staff were extremely helpful, and parking was $5 a day.  The breakfast was the best of the trip so far.  I walked down to the old historic center looking for dinner.  My first three choices were closed, and the one I settled on was quite elegant.  I started with cucumber tartare, thin slices topped with minced shrimp and assorted flavorings.  My main course was rabbit stuffed with peanuts.  The taste was good but the texture was not ideal.  The center is mostly pedestrianized with many twisting alleys and outdoor cafes.  

Friday was beautiful and sunny,  I wandered the streets and sat by the Dordogne River for a while.  I have become quite fond of sitting and watching the world go by.  I am getting lots of steps every day and walking on cobblestones seems to be helping the neuropathy in my feet.  All that walking deserved a nap.  Dinner was at a very nice bistro, sweetbreads with mushrooms to start, a divine duck leg and thigh, and strawberry tiramisu; with coffee, wine, and a cocktail, $50.   I had seen signs for a jazz festival and found it on my way back to the hotel.  It was small, $2 entry fee, and nice-looking concessions.  Maybe I should have had dinner there.  I loitered for about 45 minutes and called it a night.  I never did see any of Cyrano’s grand nephews. 

Chinon redux

Halfway between Bergerac and the airport was Chinon.  A town that I loved with wine that I loved.  The GPS was in a good mood and I stayed on mostly back roads, only $1 in tolls.  I got to Chinon in mid-afternoon and was booked at the same hotel.  Everyone was so welcoming, even the busser in the breakfast room welcomed me back.  I guess they don’t get many repeat customers. Right outside my window, they were having some lind of a battle of the bands.  Two of the bands were very good.  I just opened my balcony door and enjoyed the concert.  Later I went down to the wine store I liked, but the guy with good English was not there.  I wanted to have a case shipped, but when the shipping came to over $200, I settled on three bottles that I could put in my suitcase.  Dinner was at a highly rated place and the black pudding was the best I ever had.  The main was salmon tartare, which was good but served with roasted potatoes and carrots, not appropriate accompaniments.  The first two glasses of wine were great, but they ran out of that and the next glass was ok.  I think I should stick to brasseries.  

The next day the weather was perfect, but I was beat, old age and 7 weeks on the road was catching up with me.  My second charging cable gave out and I borrowed one from the hotel.  It was Sunday and no stores were open.  Eventually, I got the energy to walk thru town and sit by the river.  There was a small weekly market on the town square, and people were buying oysters and picnicking.  I repacked my suitcases for the trip home.  Dinner was at the brasserie next door.  They also remembered me and were very welcoming.  I started with a casserole of white asparagus in a cream sauce with a barely, but perfectly, cooked egg.  I stirred it a bit and it was amazingly good.  The main was kidneys and sweetbreads, yum, with a carafe of wine, dessert, coffee and calvados, $56.  Now why is it I want to go back to Portland?