1 - Departure and Arrival: Biarritz and Dax

 To describe this departure starting with just the Saturday afternoon it occurred on wouldn't quite do it justice.  No, that would occlude all the encouraging and heart-warming sentiment received from my friends and family.  Was I dying or moving away forever?  No, but you wouldn't necessarily have known it from all the pomp, circumstance, and advice; and yet, it was exactly what I needed to take the first steps on this journey.  So to my friends and family:

"On ne fait pas le Thanksgiving à la France, mais merci mille fois à vous."  

D'accord, on y va...

November 12, 2023

After the last of my goodbyes at home with some coffee and donuts, departure saw me park my car at work and take the short Uber ride to Terminal B of EWR.  Checking my bag and getting through security was a breeze.  The flight from EWR to CDG wasn't completely full, while booking the flight it had looked like it was a roll of the dice for whether I would have my own row or not; malheureusement, I ended up with the window seat of a full row while the lady in Row 36 was able to stretch out.  

I gave it my best shot but just wasn't able to sleep during the Atlantic crossing.  When it became apparent I wasn't going to sleep easily, I took a break and watched the 5th Indiana Jones.  Overall, I thought the movie was decent, not sure I follow all the character motivations but the plot held together just enough to waive some of the things that could be considered antiquated tropes.  I was most impressed by the production value: locations, set design, costumes, digital de-aging of faces - all looked top notch!  I also found it funny that after spending a whole 4th movie to prep the franchise for a new, younger actor, the studio not only discarded the actor but made the character disappear irreversibly...

November 13, 2023

Upon arrival in Paris (6AM), I had a 3 hour layover till my flight to Biarritz.  I figured 3 hours was overkill but also that it'd be best to play it safe and not start the trip off on the wrong foot.  Passport control was about 30 minutes; my pace picked up once the airport staff pointed out where the European passports and then the US, Canada, Mexico passports could go for their own dedicated lanes.  I felt just a little guilty as I whizzed by the line of the other countries; I imagine their wait time must've been close to 2 hours.  Their line was so long that a slew of bags had to be taken off of the baggage belt to make room for my flight's bags.  I spent a good 40 minutes waiting for my checked bag, thinking I would have to pass customs and recheck it, before I mustered the where-withall to ask if it'd simply been checked all the way to BIQ (oui, c'est comme ça).

In preparation for this trip, I switched backpacks from my trusty Stevens athletics backpack to the bag given by my company to celebrate something last year (maybe it was 125 years celebration, my memory is fuzzy on the subject?)  It was a pleasant surprise to discover how well designed the bag is, for example, how the central loop is just the right size for my luggage handle and how the blue soft shell provides enough support for the bag to rest upright (and it almost matches the color of my luggage).  I'm glad I added a change in backpacks to the list of changes I'm making with this trip; Star Trek backpack is proving to be an excellent companion as I explore.  

CDG airport is pretty nice.  My connecting flight was in Terminal 2G, which required a short shuttle ride but featured a lovely little water feature in the main waiting area.  I believe I was able to sleep a little bit on the short flight from Paris to Biarritz, I remember seeing lakes via the window, having a cookie with some café, and then being shook as the plane touched down "firmly".  The Biarritz airport is quaint but very functional; I was able to walk with my bags to the Hertz rental desk and collect my reserved vehicle en français.  

Part of me wonders if I should have started in English because while I think I got the jist of it all, there were a couple details that I wonder if I could have tunneled down on.  For example, when I reserved the vehicle via my company's travel tool, it asked about the size of the vehicle and the duration of the rental - there weren't many other details to specify in the search.  Then from my options, I had decided to go with an automatic transmission (much as I like to think I could have used this opportunity to learn a stick shift, it's probably for the best that I didn't).  I had been specifically advised by a friend not to choose an all-electric vehicle for this trip, and I had seen articles about how the electric charging infrastructure can be a bit lacking in parts of Europe; and yet, when I saw the only automatic transmission rental available via Hertz (my company's preferred renter) it didn't click for me that "electrical power with air conditioning" meant it would be only electrically powered...

I'd like to think that I thought "Oh, maybe they mean it's a hybrid" but to be honest it was more I clicked a button and had completely forgotten all of the warnings I'd been advised of.  

So anyways, I was handed the keys to an all-electric vehicle (Opel Corsa Electric) and received a brief blurb about how to use a specific fob for charging at Shell bornes (something that went over my head).  Nothing ventured, nothing gained and I decided I'd give it a whirl; after all, if I truly couldn't stand an electric vehicle, then I could always return it.  

With my bags loaded into the trunk, I made my way to the centreville of Biarritz and found that despite the petiteness of my car, it is still tricky to park in a parking garage.  But once out of the garage on foot, I found the town to be really quite nice!  The sun was shining and I think it was probably close to 70F out, walking in the sun had me working up a decent sweat.  First, I took a walk towards the view unto La Grande Plage, which is definitely an impressive stretch of sand and waves.  

La Grande Plage de Biarritz

The place is a popular surf spot and even had people in wet suits paddling out to catch waves in the middle of November!  I walked away from the lighthouse so that I could loop back towards some food options.  Walking in this direction brought me to a quiet little harbor with surprisingly high walls, though I suppose the walls need to be tall to deal with the giant white caps just outside.

I'd received recommendations to make my way to Les Halles de Biarritz, which as far as I can tell is like an oldtown market space.  Les Halles were broken up into land and sea sections: the land side saw such stands as fromageries, wine sampling, multiple butchers, and even a ham bar - the sea side wasn't running at full capacity that day but had a long line of people looking to (I assume) get some fresh oysters.  I'd say the atmosphere was similar to some of the indoor markets I've seen in PA or like the Pike Place Market in Seattle.  At this point, I was tired, hungry, and my backpack had me feeling like a bull in a china shop given how crowded the place was, so I did a lap to see what was on offer but couldn't bring myself to go back in for pictures or wares.  Instead, I popped into a Basque restaurant and enjoyed some pinxos.  The food and water were exactly what I needed; but once I was sated, I realized a clock had started ticking before I would crash and burn from fatigue...

Aubergine in olive oil and a small bavette (if at some point I'd known a bavette was a steak, I'd forgotten)

   

I made a quick promenade along the beach before skedaddling back to my car.  Google maps served as my guide to the hotel in Dax, which is good cause any missed exit likely would have resulted in me pulling over and taking a nap (things got dicey in the middle of the drive, but turning on the radio and blasting the latest French club music from the first station I found kept me alert).  

À bientôt, Biarritz!  Definitely worth coming back for a proper visit

The road into St Paul les Dax was a subdued kind of beauty.  Sections of the road had rows of old oak trees just off of the shoulder and the rest was muted forest with small brush broken up by old houses and empty fields.  Check-in at the hotel went very smoothly - the manager was expecting me and was super excited to help me settle in!  After showing me around to my large place, he also carried my bags in for me and showed me how to use the electric vehicle charger in the parking lot (and even set up a charge card for me to use for the station).  His hospitality was much appreciated at that moment and I was running on fumes (despite having switched to an all electric system).

As it was still only 4pm, I didn't let myself sleep but allowed myself to stretch out on the couch and take inventory of what essentials were needed in the apartment.  Then I took a walk before the last of the sunlight expired in the hopes of finding a grocery or convenience store with soap and/or towels.  Turns out most of the stores in St Paul les Dax had closed for the afternoon but a Carrefour express opened for a few hours in the evening; so no luck on towels but at least I'd have soaps and detergents (plus coffee)!  

I'm always fascinated by the food options in stores abroad.  Ce sont des céreales de ce Carrefour:

The walk into town also had me pass by this sign of a sports center (I'd been hearing cheers coming from a match of foot); I chuckled at the implication for competitive gymnastics if the other option is simply voluntary gymnastics 

The errand run had re-energized me slightly, so I decided to push my luck (and my bed time past 6pm) by going out to a nearby bar or restaurant in search of dinner.  I didn't delude myself that I was in search of haute cuisine or something like that, I just wanted to have a meal and maybe engage some locals in conversation.  The Carrefour cashier had been pretty quick to switch to English when he realized I wasn't playing with a full deck of French vocabulary flashcards, but I was hoping a scenario requiring less time management might be conducive to a semblance of a conversation.  

The first open place I came across was very well populated, which I took to be a good sign.  The parking lot was full and people (I assumed to be locals) were gathered around inside and out (temperature was about 60F and fair weather) having glasses of beer.  So I popped inside, took a seat at the bar and told the bar keep that "je voudrais une petite biere mais je ne sais pas lesquelles que vous avez".  She was very nice and in slow, clear words informed me of the three beers on tap; all of which made hardly any sense to me so I just asked for the first one haha.  

With my drink in hand, I examined the bar a little more closely.  Turns out it was like convenience store and bar in one: they sold tobacco and lotto tickets, had horse racing on the TV, served beer, wine and liquor, and also offered pizza!  Ah, pizza, not exactly the first thing I had in mind pour le premiere diner de mon sejour en France, but I had already agreed that tonight just required a meal, no other criteria.  I was here and they clearly had a fancy pizza oven installed next to the coffee maker (cafetière); this is France, I guess even the lowliest of bars could offer boujie food.  

 

A big difference in effort between lunch and dinner haha

I managed to chat a little with a few locals at the bar; I think one of them had initially thought I was Parisian because the first thing I did after ordering was get my phone out to see if there was wifi.  But we had a nice talk, I got to say "enchanté" a couple times and even spoke with the pizza "chef", who has a daughter playing tennis at Loyola.  With my tab resolved and my pizza prêt pour emporter,  I made the short walk back to home base, had a quiet dinner while unpacking, and subsequently concluded my first day.