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Scenic drives through the countryside, villages that beckon with comfortable café-terrasses, the aroma of fresh bread wafting out of the boulangeries, the ubiquitous polite “bonjour m’sieur-et-dame”, the brocantes and vide-greniers that offer up treasures from antiquity – these are things that our travels in France bring to mind. No wonder, then, that with the summer frenzy soon to be over in our B&B and shop, our map of France is open on the table once again. It has not even been a year yet since we visited the Dordogne valley and learned much about the millennia of history contained within that region, even though we only scratched the surface. When we were in Sarlat, we enjoyed visiting the largest outdoor antiques market in the Southwest of France, and the chance to return there at the same time this year becomes the beginning of our next travel plan.
We arrive jet-lagged in Toulouse and decide to relax before beginning our tour. We pick up a Jeep Renegade at the airport and anticipate a comfortable and fun ride on the highways and byways of southwest France. The Renegade is being heavily advertised, and the theme song, the X-Ambassadors’ “Renegade”, plays over and over again in their radio ad -- it quickly becomes the soundtrack of this trip. We stay overnight at the Holiday Inn Express at Toulouse Airport – it is modest but clean and comfortable, and its small bar menu quite satisfactory, allowing us to get some needed sleep and be on the road refreshed the next morning. Cordes-sur-Ciel We leave the Toulouse suburbs and head northeast on the local tree-lined roads past vineyards, stopping for pause in Rabastens, an ancient town on the Tarn River, where we admire the multi-colour frescoes in the 12th century Notre-Dame du Bourg.
We
are staying at Le Secret du Chat, a former embroidery workshop now transformed
into a B&B nestled in the town’s ramparts. It is one of the few houses here
that features an underground tunnel leading outside the town wall, overlooking
the garden and the Gaillac vineyards stretching
across the valley beyond. We enter through the ground floor kitchen area with
its oversized preparation tables into the quaint dining area. The bedrooms are
reached by a narrow twisting staircase on the first floor up. Cozy and quaint,
if a bit old fashioned, we have every comfort we need for our overnight stay
and a delightful breakfast before moving on. (Le Secret du Chat, 16 Lieu Dit le Planol, 81170, Cordes-sur-Ciel) Sarlat The road into Sarlat is familiar – we travelled on it many times last year. This year, we are staying at the Hotel Montaigne, a basic 2-star hotel, with friendly hosts and a fine breakfast. A bit spartan, the hotel provides basic comfort, except that the central air conditioning is turned off in October, and we need to sleep with open windows to keep cool. Fortunately, there were no uninvited visitors. We are just a few short blocks from the medieval centre of town and the parking lot which will become tomorrow’s antique market. There is a slight drizzle as the antique sellers set up on the Sunday morning, but heavy rain holds off and there is plenty for us to see and buy. We recall several restaurants where we dined well last year and it is easy to choose. We feel quite at home on old Sarlat. Bordeaux Monday morning we head west out of Sarlat– we pass through the town of Bergerac and cross the Dordogne one last time, and we are now in the Entre-Deux-Mers (literally “between two seas”) wine region which stretches from the Dordogne River to the Garonne River. At some point, the cattle farms give way to vineyards and a succession of large, formal chateaux as we make our way through the Bordeaux wine region. There is a certain forbidding air around these Bordeaux chateaux which are in stark contrast to the friendly, paysan wineries we have visited in other regions such as Languedoc. We are eager to make it into the city of Bordeaux in the afternoon, so we do not pause along the way. It is the All Saints school holiday, and Bordeaux is a-bustle with activity. The centre of the city is a pedestrian-only zone so we leave the car in an underground parking lot and wheel our luggage through the crowds to our hotel. Rue Ste-Catherine, the main shopping street, is a sea of people as far as we can see. In the other direction, we can see a large amusement park and midway in Parc des Allées de Chartres. Bordeaux is in full celebration mode for youngsters of all ages. We arrive at the Quality Hotel Bordeaux Centre (27 Rue Parlement Sainte-Catherine, 33000 Bordeaux) which is clean, modern and comfortable, and well-situated in the shopping area and amidst many restaurants. We enjoy strolling Bordeaux’s streets with its rich 18th and 19th century urban architecture driven by the wealth of the wine industry, reminiscent of a smaller Paris. Bordeaux is in the region known as Aquitaine which covers a large swath of today’s southwest France. Designated after the ancient Basque peoples whom the Romans called “Aquitani”, Aquitaine belonged to both France and England as Eleanor of Aquitaine changed husbands. It remained English for three centuries and reverted to France at the end of the Hundred Years’ War in 1453, when it was annexed by France. We spend an afternoon at the Musée d'Aquitaine, which tells the story of man though artifacts dating as far back as 500,000 years ago to modern day by means of items found in and around Bordeaux. These are surely the earliest traces of human civilization we have ever seen and to stand on the spot they were found is truly astonishing.
Two days in Bordeaux pass quickly. As we leave Bordeaux the vineyards soon give way to the Parc naturel régional des Landes de Gascogne, a mostly uninhabited preserve of pine forests and flat wetlands and coastline, unlike anything we have seen previously in France.
The Basque country is divided into 7 regions – 3 on the French side (Northern Basque Country) and 4 on the Spanish side. The French Basque provinces are part of France’s Pyrénées Atlantiques département which it shares with the Béarn region and they proudly fly the French flag. The Spanish provinces constitute the Basque Autonomous Region and are fervently nationalistic. However they are all united under a common language and culture. We see this tradition carried into design in the markets when we shop for the rough textured kitchen linens with seven brightly-coloured stripes representing the seven provinces of the Basque Country. Biarritz
Being a resort town, Biarritz has many restaurants; however, we notice an unusually large number of bars and restaurants that feature tapas– finger foods made with combinations of seafood, baguette, olives and so on – alone or in addition to other items, particularly in the area near our hotel, where Les Halles (the food market) is located.
For something fancier, we go across the street to Puig & Daro, where we are fortunate to nab a table outside. Their artful combinations of fresh anchovies, espelette peppers, and olives, Spanish tortilla, baguette slices and other fresh ingredients makes every fingerful a culinary adventure. (Puig & Daro , 8 rue des Halles, 64200 Biarritz) There are many conventional full-service restaurants in Biarritz as well, and a historic casino. Our hotel offers entertainment from time to time and one night we are treated to a Basque men’s choir in the hotel bar. The Basque have historically passed stories down orally, and they have a long tradition of choral music outside of the Church. The songs are all in the Basque language, but the choir leader explains the stories each tells in French to us. Basque men’s clubs are also well known as culinary clubs and many fine chefs started out that way. The Basque Country is slowly revealing its love of gastronomy at every turn. Bayonne
Espelette We decide to visit the town of Espelette, home of the well-known “piments Espelette”. These fine peppers, brought to France by Basque sailors accompanying Christopher Columbus, have their own appellation d’origine controlee designating peppers grown in this specific region. However our visit will have to wait. Several kilometres before we reach the town, we see a line of cars parked alongside the road and traffic begins to accumulate. It turns out that this weekend, the last one in October, is the annual pepper festival and the town is overrun with tourists, shuttled in from parking areas several kilometres away.
San Sebastián We head out early and it is still morning when we arrive in the Spanish coastal city of San Sebastián, a mere 50 kilometres from Biarritz. Historically an important port city near the French border, and today a popular beach city, San Sebastián is deservedly famous as a gastronomic capital with 9 Michelin-starred restaurants. As we tour the old city, food is everywhere around us. The local food market is just outside the underground parking lot and from there we enter the old quarter’s narrow streets, lined with boutiques and bars and restaurants. We are amused to hear, at this early hour, a glass recycling truck making its way up a neighbouring street, and the repeated clanking as hundreds of empty wine bottles are thrown into the truck as it makes its way from bar to bar. Echoes of last night. We
stroll beside the beach but it is cool to linger, so we opt to visit some of
the historic sites in old San Sebastián. Among them
is the 16th century Church of San Vincente,
featuring massive gothic motifs with artwork by Basque artists dating across five
centuries. It is almost midday, and the bars and restaurants are setting up
their counters with lavish spreads of pintxos, as the Spanish Basque call tapas. Pintxos is the Basque word for “spike”, a small skewer or
toothpick used to hold these treats together.
We peek into the establishments as we pass them and see endless
combinations of cured meats, sheep and goat cheese, peppers, artichokes, fresh
anchovies, and more, all artfully assembled into true finger food art, being
assembled on trays on the counters. It is not that hard to choose – any one of
them will surely please – so we select a modern restaurant where the bright
lights permit us an appreciation of the colours and textures of the food offerings.
The tables are filling up quickly and we enjoy a delicious selection of pintxos and wine.
It is time to return to Biarritz. Barry notices a sign pointing to “Francia” (the Spanish name for France) at the exit of the parking garage, so it will be a simple matter to get back to the highway. No need for help from the GPS. We follow the signs to France, taking us on a different route from downtown than we had taken in. This takes us through a residential area of San Sebastián, but it appears to be a shorter route as it is going eastward. Except at one point, there are no more Spanish signs, but we are on a main street so we follow the road and soon find ourselves at the highway. As it happens, there are three highways meeting at this juncture, and we quickly find ourselves in a complex interchange on a ramp with signs pointing in multiple directions, all in Basque. We take one road and at a point it becomes a local highway. This is not correct. So we turn around and get back to the interchange. Denise sees a sign pointing to Baiona which she remembers as the Basque name for Bayonne, so we head in that direction. A few minutes later we see the sign “Bienvenue en France”.
The Navarre It is time to leave Biarritz. We travel south and east through the historic Navarre region. The Navarre dates back to the 8th century, when the Basques defended themselves successfully against the Moors, who had invaded most of Spain. The Basque had established the kingdom of Navarre as a Christian kingdom, extending on both north and south sides of the Pyrenees. Over the centuries and after many power struggles, the portion north of the Pyrenees became known as the district of Lower Navarre, and passed to the king of France in 1589 when King Henri III of Navarre, son of Jeanne d’Albret, became Henri IV of France. In 1620 Navarre was merged into the Kingdom of France. The monarchs of this unified state took the title "King of France and Navarre" and the coat of arms of the French king showed the two emblems of France and Navarre side by side until the monarchy’s fall in the French Revolution. We are deep in Basque country, in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Half-timbered stucco farmhouses dot rolling green hills. The houses are trimmed in red or green wood and shutters, a pattern that repeats itself throughout the Basque countryside and villages. There are villages, too, with houses and restaurants and services. Every village has a pelota court where townspeople can play this popular ancient sport similar to jai alai.
We continue across the pass and are now driving down through forest, where we see occasional wild horses coming out of the woods – have to be careful of the drive. We are descending and soon reach St-Martin d-Arossa, the first town since we went into the mountains. We are back in rolling farmland and we begin to see posts and directional signs bearing an image of a scallop shell and an arrow along the roadside and at intersections. The scallop is a symbol of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, or Way of St-Jacques. The Camino de Santiago goes back to the beginning of the 9th century when the tomb of St James (Santiago in Spanish) was discovered in northeast Spain and became a major pilgrimage destination following ancient Roman roads across Europe until wars and epidemics and other disasters brought it to an end in the 14th century. The resurgence of the pilgrimage was a 20th century phenomenon and was sensitively portrayed in Emilio Estevez’ film “The Way”, starring Martin Sheen. Various myths exist around the scallop shell, but all centre on retrieving scallop shells from the shores of Santiago upon reaching the destination. The scallop road signs direct pilgrims from all across France as their routes converge on the town of St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, a few kilometres north of the Ronceveaux Pass, one of the principal Pyrenees crossings into Spain. St-Jean is our destination for the night. St-Jean-Pied-de-Port
There
are not many hotels operating at this time of year so our choices are limited.
We had reserved at the two-star Hotel Itzalpea –
the name is a Basque word for arbour, referring to the row of shade trees in
front. There are workmen doing sidewalk repairs in front – they all sport
berets and speak Basque among themselves. We enter the hotel through a café bar
area and our room is one flight up. It is a slight adventure to get up the
two-century-old narrow twisting stairway with our luggage as the steps all
slant in a left to right direction. It is somewhat what we expect to climbing
the stairs inebriated. Our bedroom is bright with a comfortable European modern
bath despite some strangely mismatched decoration, such as a ceramic horse’s
head. Wifi and full continental
breakfast complement the funky setting to make this a comfortable place for an
overnight stay. (Hotel Itzalpea, 5 Place du
Trinquet, 64220 Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port) We walk through the Porte St-Jacques which separates the city centre from the bridge over the Nive and the routes south. This designated UNESCO World Heritage Site features statues of St John the Baptist and the Virgin and Child, giving benevolent protection to the pilgrims passing below. We continue along Rue de la Citadelle, a pedestrian street which climbs steeply to the old fortress. The sandstone and half-timbered houses and storefronts are clearly geared to pilgrims on their way to Compostela. We pass hostels offering low cost beds and box lunches, some neatly hidden behind garden fences and flowering hedges. Stores offer pilgrims’ hats and walking sticks for sale. There is also a Pilgrim Reception Centre where you can get pilgrimage documentation and a scallop shell. Houses are uniquely identified by the original owner and date carved in the lintels above the entrance doorways. It is late October, so many places are closed for the season and being mid-week there are few people in the streets, but we can imagine the buzz of activity in the summertime with many pilgrims and sightseers converging on the route to Spain. We feel a certain solitude in the quiet town, despite signs that many thousands have walked this path before us, and the cloudy sky and light rain lend an additional air of mystery. Our walk along this path are the first steps of the 760 km to the shrine of Santiago de Compostela. The Ronceveaux pass is just a few kilometres from us. Knowing it is there lends a certain magnetic appeal, but we are not here to travel the Camino. There are not many restaurants open today. We had noticed Chez Dédé located in the ramparts near our hotel on our earlier walk and go back there to check the menu. There are offering palombe tonight so we decide to dine here. (We had been seeing palombe offered on many Basque menus but had no idea what it was.) We go down a few steps into the low-ceilinged room. The dining room feels warm and welcoming with its large rough-hewn ceiling beams and rustic wooden tables. A stocky man sporting a beret and permanent smile greets us from behind the bar-counter. This is André (Dédé), the owner. We ask our waiter what palombe is, and he points to two stuffed wood-pigeons mounted on the wall. They may be served broiled or with salmis (sautéed and reheated, sliced, in its sauce). This is palombe season in the Basque country as the birds migrate across the Pyrenees from northern Europe to their winter home in Spain. This is what the hunters we saw in the mountains were after. The birds didn’t stand a chance. We decide to try one cooked each way, starting with a garbure, a vegetable potage, as our waiter explains. The garbure turns out to be a hearty French vegetable and ham stew, and with the crusty country bread, each appetizer serving is a meal on its own. Our palombe plates arrive, half a wood-pigeon each, a few tender morsels on the plate hidden among the tiny bones. We work the meat out with our forks and enjoy its gamey flavour. Almost simultaneously we each sense a tiny solid object in the mouth … these are pieces of lead shot, typical discoveries when eating palombe. Some wine, some lead, it’s all part of the experience. A couple at the next table are amused at our struggles and reactions. We engage in conversation with this couple, on a getaway from La Rochelle, and we chat late into the evening. (Chez Dédé, 3 Rue France, 64220 Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port) We return to our hotel room, pleasantly satisfied. Tomorrow we leave St-Jean, the meeting place for pilgrims, on the next leg of our own journey and in a different direction.
Béarn We head away from the mountains and drive into the Béarn, a region with rolling hills and valleys with magnificent views from the hills of the surrounding countryside and of the Pyrenees Mountains fading into the distance. We see fewer individual farmhouses now and, instead, we pass through villages lined with rows of attached houses, built in the ancient way for warmth and protection, the familiar French village architecture. We have left the Basque Country. We
are staying in a bed and breakfast in Sauveterre-de-Béarn, a pretty medieval village that gained importance as
its old bridge across the Gave d'Oloron was on one of
the main routes to Santiago de Compostela. Only the
stone portions of the drawbridge remain, but the church and many buildings
remain in their original condition as do some of the original fortifications. A
stairway from the church square takes us down to a lovely shaded path along the
river where we can get close to the old bridge and tower and the ancient
medieval entrance to the town. Just outside the town, we reach the B&B, La Maison de Navarre, a charming old home with grounds facing the Pyrenees and the roofs of medieval Sauveterre. It is off season so the pool is closed, but we enjoy the grounds with the gardens and goats. The rooms are comfortably modern and our host charming. (La Maison de Navarre, Quartier Saint-Marc, 64390 Sauveterre-de-Béarn) There are many historical villages in this part of the Béarn, all of them sharing a rich history of the Navarre nobility and the many pilgrims that have passed through. We visit Salies-de-Béarn, located between two major rivers - the Gave de Pau to the north and the Gave d'Oloron to the south. Saliès,
or “City of Salt”, owes its name to the famous salt springs reputed for its
healing powers as early as the 11th century. According to legend, the salt was discovered
when hunters injured a wild boar who had died after going
through muddy swamps and was perfectly preserved covered in salt. Salt from Saliès is processed and sold and is the only salt that may
be used to prepare Jambon de Bayonne. We stroll the picturesque city with its old stone houses and flowery alleyways. We start at the city centre, with the street circling out like a snail’s shell from an open-air salt water basin. We pass a fresco depicting Jeanne d’Albret’s arrival in Saliès in 1568. We meet a couple from Brittany - he is very concerned because he has not seen a bar yet. True, we recall having seen many bars in Brittany, but it is barely 11AM and we haven’t noticed their absence either, perhaps because we were not looking for them. We decide to visit the corner of the city where the salt springs are located. The Thermes de Saliès (hot baths) is a full health spa and fitness centre located in a massive Moorish style building. Across the park is the Hotel du Parc, a palatial Art Nouveau structure and garden. Inside, there is a casino whose Art Nouveau interior and sweeping staircases are as stunning as the day they were built. As it happens with casinos, the odds are, as always, in the house’s favour. A few Euros poorer, we head back to Sauveterre for dinner. Pau This former capital city of the Béarn originated with the construction of its 11th century castle by the Viscounts of Béarn. The location was chosen to protect the ford across the Gave de Pau which was a strategic point for access to the Bearn valleys and then to Spain. The city is named after the stockade (“pau” in the Occitaine language) which protected the rocky palisade on which the primitive castle stood. Pau became the political, cultural and economic centre of the Béarn region which remained independent from the neighbouring French, English and Spanish peoples. The town and its castle took on a new dimension by becoming the seat of the Kings of the Lower Navarre, which had split from the ancient Basque kingdom of Navarre along what is the French-Spanish border. Pau thrived under the reign of Henri d'Albret and his wife Marguerite. We visit the Château de Pau, a fortified structure dating back to the 14th century at the height of the Hundred Years War, built to protect the Viscount of Béarn from the kings of Aragon, England, and France. The castle is restored to its original elegance and rich decoration. The coffered ceilings are embellished with the intertwined letters H & M, joined by the bonds of love, representing Marguerite and Henri. It was in this castle that their grandson, the future Henri IV, king of France and Navarre, was born and slept in his legendary turtle shell cradle, on display. Pau has a charming historic pedestrian centre with many stores and restaurants that line the streets as you descend from the château to the cliffside Boulevard des Pyrènées, where we admire the panoramic view of the Pyrenees Mountains in the distance. Pau offers up a full array of dining options. One Tuesday evening we reserve (you have to reserve for any night) at Restaurant Les Pipelettes. This little room has about ten small tables and they offer one menu each day comprising five courses of innovative dishes from local, fresh market ingredients. These are shown on the blackboard along with the producer, even the winemaker. We did not keep notes on the meal but we recall outstanding innovation, flavor, quality and presentation in everything we were served. We found the small room a bit warm and noisy as the evening progressed and the restaurant obliged us when we asked for our coffee and dessert on the little table set outside on the street, now quiet in the late evening. (Restaurant Les Pipelettes, 3 rue Valery Meunier, 64000) The next night, we go a little further down rue Valery Meunier to Le Palais de Fez, an unpretentious Moroccan restaurant where we have an enjoyable dinner of tagines. This is a large, plain room, and there are only 4 tables occupied this evening. The owner explains to us that Pau was in major decline, and their attempts to rebuild the city by making it a centre for technical education was not working well. Le Palais de Fez closed in 2016.
We have come full circle and are back at Toulouse airport. We have rubbed shoulders with some of the oldest peoples in Europe and enjoyed their sharing their history and culture, their stunningly beautiful homeland, and their love for food with us. Walking in the steps of the Navarrois, it was as if time stood still for a brief few weeks. Almost, that is, because time does not stop for the airline schedule. Well, almost. Our flight to London is delayed taking off from Toulouse because pea-soup fog has severely slowed down arrivals at Heathrow and flight schedules are starting to back up. We leave 3½ half hours late. We had been initially concerned about our 4 hour layover in London, but it may work to our advantage now. We arrive at the Heathrow international terminal in the midst of chaos, long lineups of people with missed connections at every counter trying to find a way to their destination. But we did have the luxury of a long layover. All overnight flights leaving North America had been given priority so the Montreal plane is on the tarmac and is scheduled to depart on time. We recall that Heathrow has a “Fast-track” security clearance and transfer in case of short layovers. We arrive at our departure terminal and gate with time to spare. We settle in knowing that we will be back. |
Our
destination is the medieval 
But
then the landscape begins to change as we enter an inhabited region with signs
pointing to towns and farmhouses scattered across the countryside with
well-tended fields and shaggy sheep grazing. We have entered the Basque
Country, the area that encompasses the western foothills of the Pyrenees on
both sides of the French-Spanish border to the Atlantic coast. Basque
settlements date to the Stone Age and the people have retained their own
language and culture. Many historians consider the Basques the most ancient human
civilization in Europe. A unique reminder that we are in Basque country is that
road signs now appear in two languages – French and Basque. The ancient Basque
language, or “
We soon see signs for the neighbouring
cities of Bayonne (
We
learn quickly that you do not order tapas, you point or, if they give you a
plate, you take what you want. Tapas and drinks are as much a social event as
eating experience, exemplified at Bar Jean, across the street from Les 
A
scant few kilometres from Biarritz, Bayonne is the capital city of the French
Basque region, a fortified city located at the confluence of the 
We return to 
We are near the town of 
A
cool, gentle drizzle welcomes us as we arrive in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port.
Pied-de-Port means foot of the pass in Pyrenean French and the mountain peaks
loom large not far from us. Several pilgrimage routes meet at
Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and it was traditionally the pilgrims’ last stop before
the arduous mountain crossing, a role this town has played since its founding
in the 13th century.