Foreword from HIM: don’tbe too concerned for us when reading the first part of Harry’s ‘postcard’ – it gets better!

Arcachon, Friday, 21st October: THEY felt quite chuffed when it rained overnight Tuesday/Wednesday because they had spent the day packing up and stuffing the awning into its bag while it was dry (sorry, carefully folding it and skilfully placing it in its valise; Carol insists on that, HE’d just stuff it!) Actually, they had a fairly lazy morning, then used up a quantity of leftovers in a hearty soup before getting on with the work. All done, they had time for a final dip in that excellent pool:

Then a ‘classic’ 3-tin meal.

In spite of all the work the day before, they STILL didn’t get on the road before midday! Crossing the ‘viaduc’, they stopped at the first hypermarché for supplies, where a very nice lady at the deli counter offered to remove the mussels from the paella for them (Carol’s allergic) – actually she left two in for HIM!, then stopped again for lunch, so the 237 kilometres to Arcachon still took till 6.30pm. However, they had phoned ahead so that the out of hours ‘gardien’ was able (though at first unwilling – he wanted us to park up on the overnight parking area, till he understood the difficulty of manoeuvring) to let us in.

At first they thought the move seemed to have been a bad one, and campsite for campsite, it was.

 Pitches are small and cramped together, the site is severely sloping (might be difficult getting out) and, although they knew the pool was outdoors, they did expect it to be open, based on the info in the guide book. But it’s empty (of water) and closed. Late night and early morning (pre 7am) conversation in loud voices from the large nearby caravan (probably occupied by workers of some sort) didn’t help, nor did being unable to connect to the wi-fi before paying for it next morning. Decision was taken – over the paella – not to put the awning up, but to move on after 3 nights. 

 Friday, 21^st October: However, it got better! Arcachon is well worth a visit. (Google Arcachon or go straight to : Images correspondant à Arcachon ) Yesterday they left me here and set off to explore, first trying to find a bank where they might get some euros from their Caxton card, for which he’s forgotten the PIN. No chance! Then they parked up between two of Arcachon’s beaches, newly raked – or ‘dragged’ – and picnicked beside the sea wall.

Excursions were leaving from the nearby jetty and enquiries led to the decision to return on Friday for a trip round the ‘Ile aux Oiseaux’.

Then they decided to drive to the ‘Dune du Pyla’ – the highest sand dune in Europe. (Google ‘Dune du Plya’ and follow whichever thread appeals.)

  Are we going up there? Yes, get on with it!

The view from the 100th step (out of 160).

160! You think you’re at the top? Think again:

 

First reward for effort: the views!

 

You can see how the dune is moving inland and eating up the forest: 

For the descent, some chose the hard way (down the steps), others preferred the quick way down:

 

Second reward for effort: a crêpe or a gauffre:

Bon appétit!

After a visit to a hypermarché on the way back, they enjoyed a supper of liver in red wine – a dish remembered from last year and enjoyed again. There seemed to be no occupation of the big caravan next pitch , so a quieter night was also welcomed – but a cold one!

Footnote from HIM: We could have bought a ‘real’ postcard with a picture of footprints in the sand and the caption “On a marché sur la dune”, But that would have been silly, wouldn’t it?