For the past eight years it has been our tradition to visit Danielle sometime in September, on or near her birthday. This year we managed to unite our French family for a birthday celebration; there were a couple of milestone birthdays in addition to Danielle’s and it seemed like the perfect moment. Danielle flew from London to Biarritz and we all met in the historic Basque village of Itxassou. We met for apéritifs near the Pas de Roland. It was here that the Basques murdered the nephew of Charlemagne in 778. From there we proceeded to a nearby restaurant, known for its innovative menu. It was a wonderful but brief get-together, as we caught up on each other’s news. We didn’t have much time in the Basque Country as Danielle needed to return to work, but we did get in some quality beach time and enjoyed the unseasonably hot sun.
It was the weekend for the Autumn Festival in the town of Bidart,with traditional Basque dancing in the town square.
Travel day! A full day’s drive to the port of Calais in time to make our reservation for the EuroTunnel. On the way we stopped in Bordeaux to firm up our plans of shipping our camper to Montevideo, Uruguay in December. By nightfall we were at Danielle’s house in Brighton and we spent the next two weeks there. It was a relaxing time for us as we drove Danielle to work each morning, then went for a latte and a walk along the Marina, the beach, or into town.
On the weekends we visited some spots that were new to us. First we went to New Forest National Park, which includes one of the largest remaining tracts of unenclosed pasture land, heathland and forest in southeastern England. One of the main attractions there are its famous ponies which roam freely through the park and the villages, even laying down in the road if the mood strikes them.
We found a campground near the town of Brockenhurst, took a long hike and had dinner at the village pub.
During the week we did a bit of sightseeing on our own as well. There are a multitude of picturesque villages along the coast, such as Rottingdean, not far from Brighton. It has an historic centre, often the subject of picture postcards.
We had amazing weather for walking about, discovering that Rudyard Kipling once lived here. We walked through his garden which is now open to the public. We meandered High Street, past historic pubs, and continued on to the beach.
Our last weekend we went hiking again, this time at Devil’s Dyke, a 100 m deep V shaped valley, so named because of a legend which holds that the devil was digging a trench to allow the sea to flood the many churches in the Weald of Sussex. The digging disturbed an old woman who lit a candle, or angered a rooster causing it to crow, making the devil believe that the morning was fast approaching. The devil then fled, leaving his trench unfinished. The last shovel of earth he threw over his shoulder fell into the sea, forming the Isle of Wight. Again,we had outstanding weather for our steep climb and our very tasty dinner at a pub called The Cock in nearby Ringmer.
Saying goodbye is always difficult. I flew to San Francisco and Andre returned to the Basque Country for his annual hunting trip. Before leaving he returned to Bordeaux to put our camper into a shipping container and send it off to Montevideo.
Andre was lucky enough to spend a few days with Danielle at the end of his stay and concluded that a stop in Brighton would become a permanent part of his travel plans!
I haven’t been in that area for some years – my mother’s younger brother used to live in Rottingdean, Saltdean, now his widow lives in Lancing, along the coast from Brighton. When my three sons were at uni in Brighton, I used to have a quick trip down there. Thanks for the update!