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| Bordeaux to Biarritz via Saint-Estephe, France - |
Despite hanging the "Do Not Disturb" lanyard on the doorknob, there was a rapping on my chamber door at approximately 10:00 AM. The knocking interrupted whatever important e-mail I was composing and I explained to housekeeping that we would be leaving at 12:00 PM, which is the check-out time. She seemed irritated as much as I was. Earlier in the week, the front desk rang the room and asked me when service could do their duty. Again, I had the "Do Not Disturb" lanyard hanging free and I was bemused that the hotel couldn't be bothered to respect the request. To put a final nail in the rather average experience that I had at the Pullman after experiencing a power outage, evacuation and a leaking room, upon checkout, the final room charges were presented to me. There was nothing out of the ordinary sadly however instead of deducting the costs out of the 500€ deposit they already took against my debit card, they ran the additional €300 in charges against it which posted immediately and then refunded the €500 deposit. That was 72 hours ago and do you think I have seen that money returned to my account? Of course not. Why would they not take the room charges out of the deposit and return the delta? It is ridiculous. Fortunately, a dent in my funds will not cause me any drama, in the short-term at least.
Onward to Saint-Estephe. Before a relaxing afternoon could be had, I pulled into a village called Dubergrier. The outdoor seating at Le Petit Verdot was free and it looked like a peaceful place to conduct the last scheduled conference call of the day. I took out my laptop, tethered it to my phone and called into the WebEx session. Only minutes later, what looked like the cast of Sons of Anarchy turned up and what was once an ideal place to make a subdued call turned into an orgy of madness. Fortunately, this call only took twenty minutes as I coughed and stuttered from within a plume of cigarette smoke. We were then immediately on our way after I knocked back a cup of coffee.
The drive through the Haut-Medoc region was lovely and worth experiencing. I dawdled on the road so I could enjoy the scenery and the various Chateaux much to the consternation of taxi drivers and locals who wanted to get down the road. Earlier in the week, the lovely lady at the wine bar in Bordeaux suggested visiting three specific winemakers. She neglected to say that I should make an appointment though so sadly no wine was enjoyed. It was probably for the best as after getting to Saint-Estephe, there was still three hours of driving ahead of us before getting to Biarritz. Even the restaurant that was suggested had stopped serving (it was 3:00 PM, so I wasn't surprised) which motivated us to visit the Carrefour supermarket and buy ham, cheese, baguette, pineapple and juice instead of sitting down at a cafe or restaurant for a change. That is one way to keep the spending down at least.
After stopping at the ruins of Fort Medoc, along with a beach, my heavy foot enabled us to make good time on the expressway. With the windows up and the air conditioning cooling the car for a change, I could play the last album by My Chemical Romance and enjoy the drive for a change. The motorcar was ultimately ditched in a parking garage near the Mercure in Biarritz and within minutes of checking in, we were in the hotel bar using the drink vouchers that they kindly provided. One glass of wine turned into three before heading out to the promenade at the Casino Barriere and ordering a bottle of wine and watching the locals enjoy life. Coming from the nanny state of Australia, it always amazes me when I see the wayward youth drinking on the beach with reckless abandon as that would be frowned on in Oz. I thought of buying a few bottles and taking them down to the beach myself to make new friends but instead argued with the twink about Trump and Brexit, which are always topics that can stir me up on a balmy night.
After waking up at the ungodly hour of 9:00 AM, I went back to sleep and woke up again at noon. It would have been at least two years since I slept in so late. The hotel room was as dark and cold as a morgue, ideal conditions for me to regenerate. The twink didn't complain, at least until I woke him up and told him to G-YAM, which is literally translated in Chezdon-speak to Get Your Arse Moving. Lunch was scheduled around the corner from the hotel at Le Clos Basque, a notable entry in the Michelin guide. As I pondered how spending is getting out of control on this trip, glasses of champagne arrived and we were informed that the special was lobster. I didn't need to think about that choice for more than a second. After a very nice starter of salmon tartare with guacamole, the lobster and potatoes filled me up sufficiently that I bombastically proclaimed that we could, of course, save money by not enjoying dessert and only knocking back one bottle of wine.
We walked around the Biarritz and I must have sweat out the half bottle of wine that I had for lunch. I ended up with the top part of my purple shirt saturated with a line of residual sunscreen at the bottom of the wet crest; which was embarrassing, to say the least. That didn't stop us from refuelling with a few more beers on the promenade before retiring to the hotel and taking a nap. After yet another shower, we wandered down to the beach and waited an hour for sunset and the scheduled fireworks at 11:00 PM and celebrating Bastille Day. It was a great fireworks show (not as good as you would find in Sydney Harbour on New Year's Eve) but it was fun and entertained the thousands of spectators who were all very cheerful, probably because they new France would win the World Cup the next day.
After so much sleep, I was up and ready to leave Biarritz sadly at 8:00 AM. Although there are plenty of tourists at this time of year and prices for sundry items are commensurate with the season, I love Biarritz and really can't wait until I can return as it is my kind of city. This was my second trip to Biarritz, the first sadly was only three hours two years ago and it felt like it had been an eternity. I certainly will not be waiting that long before returning again. With the great beach, restaurants on offer and friendly attractive locals, I may even try to return again on this road trip if time permits. I also want to return to Bordeaux, this time with appointments scheduled to taste some wine along with a designated driver. Lesson learned.
Next stop Basque Country, Spain.
