Sarah and I decided that to have a true holiday, we needed to go to the beach or go wine tasting in the country or some such thing (Sarah had to return to the States to start her residency program, so she really legitimately could talk about needing a holiday). We hopped on a train, all the while planning to go to Bordeaux, but somehow ended up staying on (legitimately--we paid) and going all the way to Biarritz, for surf lessons.
Biarritz is just about as close as you get to Spain while still being in France. It's in the Basque region of France, and definitely has a different flavor to the Northern area of France that I spent time in.
Sarah and I arrived that night, and as will happen when you hang out with Sarah, we decided to go jump in the ocean. We'd picked up an Australian along the way, Andy, who was biking the Pyrenees, and Juan, a French/Mexican working at the Venezuelan embassy in Paris, in Biarritz on holiday. The four of us went down to the beach and did the necessary jump into the water and run (it isn't quite summer yet). Having fulfilled our obligations, we decided to leave actual swimming for daylight and warmer times. Look Janet, your headtorch was so helpful!
The next day was lovely, so Sarah and I decided to take surf lessons. Clemont, our instructor, spoke only French to us, so suffice to say I didn't catch many of the instructions. It's hard enough for me to comprehend spoken French when we're in a quiet location face-to-face etc. However, apparently this was just fine, because I did much better than the last time I took surfing lessons back home. Nothing spectacular, but I did stand up, if quite wobbly, several times. Sarah was even better, although I think she was both better and worse. She had some spectacular wipe-outs :) Oh, about the only thing I really understood was "attend! attend! attend!" or "wait! wait! wait!" apparently I got too excited and wanted to start going too early for each wave. I have flashbacks to Salsa lessons and the instructor yelling "submit!" when I tried to guess what move he was going to do, and guessed wrong. I guess it's in my nature to go just slightly too quickly--headstrong.
Biarritz is just about as close as you get to Spain while still being in France. It's in the Basque region of France, and definitely has a different flavor to the Northern area of France that I spent time in.
Sarah and I arrived that night, and as will happen when you hang out with Sarah, we decided to go jump in the ocean. We'd picked up an Australian along the way, Andy, who was biking the Pyrenees, and Juan, a French/Mexican working at the Venezuelan embassy in Paris, in Biarritz on holiday. The four of us went down to the beach and did the necessary jump into the water and run (it isn't quite summer yet). Having fulfilled our obligations, we decided to leave actual swimming for daylight and warmer times. Look Janet, your headtorch was so helpful!
The next day was lovely, so Sarah and I decided to take surf lessons. Clemont, our instructor, spoke only French to us, so suffice to say I didn't catch many of the instructions. It's hard enough for me to comprehend spoken French when we're in a quiet location face-to-face etc. However, apparently this was just fine, because I did much better than the last time I took surfing lessons back home. Nothing spectacular, but I did stand up, if quite wobbly, several times. Sarah was even better, although I think she was both better and worse. She had some spectacular wipe-outs :) Oh, about the only thing I really understood was "attend! attend! attend!" or "wait! wait! wait!" apparently I got too excited and wanted to start going too early for each wave. I have flashbacks to Salsa lessons and the instructor yelling "submit!" when I tried to guess what move he was going to do, and guessed wrong. I guess it's in my nature to go just slightly too quickly--headstrong.
No comments:
Post a Comment