Hello from Biarritz on the south west coast of France! All I can say is stunning! You can imagine that Agatha Christie would have written some Poirot’s here, as the architecture lends itself to the Art Deco period. This is the Basque region and on a clear day you see down the coast line to the Pyrenese in the distance. The weather is is about 23 degrees at the moment but I am led to believe that at this time of year it can vary a lot. I must have brought the Brisbane weather with me!!

At first I wasn’t super impressed by the beach, but I believe us Australians to be spoiled in that regard, and me particularly in the last 5 months as I have been living at the beach. But the one thing the French have got right is the multitude of beach cafes on the promenade of the Le Grande Plage. All you have to do is pick a seat and you will soon be waited on. Furthermore, you will not be made to feel like you have to move on when you have finished your drink. Even better, is that next to no=one is face down on their smartphones. In fact I feel a little idiotic being on my laptop, but the wifi in the hotel wasn’t working so I thought I’d write beachside.

My first night in Biarritz was quite unexpected. Having taken a turn around the promenade and had a requisite glass of champagne, I found a pub with a view of the ocean and wandered on in. Sam Stosur was playing in the French Open, there was a pool table, and 20 beers on tap with countless more by the bottle! Given I had frequented my European beer café in some time, I found a barman who spoke great English and proceeded to serve me his recommendations. Prices were anything between 5 and 15 Euro for a pint, but considering I had just hopped of a plane I thought I wouldn’t jump straight into 12% beer. Hearing that I spoke English, there was a trio – two brothers and the son of one of them – of men from County Armagh, who had just come back from doing the first week of the Camino. They gave me some info on the walk and said that it was better that I was doing the walk on my own, as I was bound to meet more people. By all accounts everyone is lovely on the walk but there are some seriously crazy people too…..ya never know I may just be one of them.

Anyway, there was a couple from Holland sitting next to me at the bar who were in Biarritz for the surfing. I was surprised by this because I was yet to see a wave…anywhere….They were lovely and as I was getting a little more chatty, I decided that I should have a game of pool against the locals…French beer was giving me some courage I believe!  Of course the locals were more than happy to let the Aussie tourist pay for a game of pool, and even though my French is non-existent I’ve been around fellas at pool table to know when they think ‘there is no way this chick can play’, and with a few beers under my belt I wasn’t sure either. With the help of one of the locals who spoke perfect English thanks to his time in London being a chef, the rules were discussed and it was agreed that I should break. All I could think was “Please Jesus, let me not look like an idiot and have their thoughts confirmed.’ I chalk up the cue, I try to look professional and I break…..Well the baby Jesus was smiling down on me because I potted two reds off the break and suddenly the entire bar hanging shit on my opponent – again you can tell even if it is in French and I thought my Dad would be so proud of me right now, as he did spend years honing my skills. I went on to win several games  and did not have to pay for a drink after that, thanks to the French chef who was also the local drug dealer I think was buying Magnums of Duvel Beer…..I made the wise move of drinking a tonne of water too, so I didn’t end up so bad the next day…or so I thought.

There is nothing better than waking up remembering that you made a name for yourself on the pool table, and waking up without a hangover. So off I trot to walk the coast line of Biarritz and take a few snaps, when the dreaded feeling of the flu overwhelms you. By late afternoon I was in bed with the tell-tale signs and slept through the night. I woke feeling ok and took myself out again, but by lunch it was all over. I am currently outside by the beach getting some sun and loaded up on some drugs from the chemist – all of which were prescribed via charades as there was not a common word between us.

This is making me a little worried as I am due to start my walk in 2 days time, and have to travel tomorrow to my starting point. Hopefully whatever the word following paracetamol on the packet isn’t something that the French Chef would like to be cooking up!

There are waves now and people are surfing…but I must be off and dose up on cold and flu medicine and maybe a fromage baguette.