A compelling reason to visit Bordeaux is that it is in a perfect location for day trips. The two places we visited were Arcachon Bay and the village of Saint-Émilion but I was far more excited about visiting Arcachon Bay, to see the Dunes of Pilat. These are Europe’s highest sand dunes and while the internet provided me many photos of how impressive the dunes would be, seeing it for real is quite something else.
We take a train from Bordeaux Saint-Jean station to Arcachon and from there, a bus to the dunes. The bus journey is the exact opposite of my experience of France, in that it was €1 each way and I was momentarily stunned to realise how cheap it was. As a result, I was incapable of inserting the paper ticket into the ticket machine and looked like I’d never been on a bus before. On arrival at the bus stop by the dunes, there are some gift shops and cafes, before you take a short walk through the woods, which let you know you’re getting closer to the dunes by the increasing levels of sand around your feet. The dunes themselves remain hidden until the last moment when they come into view as if by magic. They are enormous and intimidating. I have never experienced anything like them.
The dunes are busy moving between 1 and 5 metres inland every year, and it’s possible to imagine the joy of moving to such a beautiful area and home on the Avenue des Dunes, only for the dream to turn to a nightmare as your living room starts to resemble a beach. The dunes are 500 metres wide, three kilometres in length and over 107m in height. It is roughly as tall as the spire of Milan Cathedral – having walked up to the roof of that cathedral, I can assure you that the height is not insignificant. Similarly, getting to the top of the dunes is not an easy thing to do, as you swiftly come to realise that the peak seems to always be further away, so you climb some more, look out and see there’s another peak just beyond it. Eventually, with ragged breath, you will get a view that just doesn’t seem possible in Europe. In one direction is Banc d’Arguin, a sand bank that you can visit by boat or ferry and beyond is Cape Ferret. Look another way and you’ll see the dunes spread out in a thin line of sand reaching to the horizon and behind that is an uninterrupted expanse of woodland. It’s a rare sight that looks close to nature and it’s wonderful to see that France has not overdeveloped this beautiful landscape.
On the dunes, I had one of those very fleeting moments of complete calm where my brain felt empty of worries and concern. It’s a beautiful moment. Perhaps it was the ability to stand atop the dunes and be confronted by the vastness of the landscape with soothing sights in every direction. It’s a view that makes you want to explore for days. Overhead, many hang-gliders are taking in the view in their terrifying contraptions.
The town of Arcachon, which abuts the dunes, is pleasant in a seaside way, but as with Bordeaux, the streets all look impeccably clean and paving looks like it was laid for our arrival. The spend on infrastructure and making France look divine must be eye-watering but the results are worth every centime. In the past, Arcachon was where sick people were taken from the city to “take the air” and look out at the sea. Arcachon is split into four parts, each according to the season. The Summer town is closest to the sea and contains the bulk of bars, restaurants and attractions. When we visited, the Summer town beach was mostly empty and the walk up the pier was a pleasant and relaxed affair, proving that I only really enjoy beaches out of season. Separating the Summer and Winter towns is Parc Mauresque which is well maintained and peaceful. If you’re a fan of heights, head up the Observatoire Sainte-Cécile which wobbles as you ascend it, which made me feel fairly terrified. The views from the top are worth the terror, though. You get views of the sea and the Ville d’Hiver (Winter Town) neighbourhood. This neighbourhood has a very peculiar estate of houses that all look like they’re haunted. The hundreds of luxurious villas are all slightly different but any one of them would make a great set for a Tim Burton film.
As this is February, not much is open so we find a remarkably characterless bar, one that has those cliché pictures of Paris in black and white on the walls. Next time I go to Paris, I will see if Parisian cafes have pictures of Arcachon on the walls, or just more pictures of Paris and that damned Chat Noir. The men playing a game in the corner seemed happy enough and I was transfixed by the lady serving us drinks, who had a pair of glasses that were on a chain and purposefully broke in the middle. What a place! To round off our day, we went to La Table du Boucher where a three course meal and wine came in at under €30. The options are written on chalk menus and the sea bass was excellent. Relaxed as we were, we entirely forgot to check train times to Bordeaux, with the last one of the day being a mad dash away. Arcachon was nice, but it wasn’t nice enough to warrant an emergency hotel stay.
The weather saved the sand dunes and Archachon, but it wasn’t playing nicely for our trip to Saint-Émilion where the grey skies matched the grey buildings. Despite this, Saint-Émilion is a great village to have a meander around the medieval wonders. There’s Europe’s largest monolithic church there, built into the rocks. There are also caves and ancient buildings to explore. It is clear from the moment you get to the village that this is an important place for wine; the land is almost entirely taken up by vineyards and chateau. When you arrive in the town, a large proportion of the shops are wine-related. As we’re flying back on Ryanair who are petrified of anything weighing their craft down, all the goodies are entirely wasted on me.
We have limited time in Saint-Émilion as we need to catch our flight, but we manage to stroll around the village, taking a lot of photos and we find the time to have lunch at Chai Pascal, which was one of the few places open. The interior has a lot of warm stone and feels immediately cosy. We were in luck as this is a wonderful restaurant with vaguely gruff service along the lines of “sit there, wait, eat, go” but the food was good enough to warrant this. I ate an incredibly rich confit of duck which came with greens and roast potatoes. The saltiness of the dish worked wonders with the fat from the duck, and I drank a small glass of local wine that cost €9 because my finger apparently hovered over that and not the €6 wine. This was a blessing in disguise as the wine was sensational, one of the best reds I have ever tasted. The tiny measure of wine goes against guzzling it down, but it was worth it. This was a wonderful end to a wonderful trip. I was deeply content.
Until…I forgot that Ryanair boarding passes need to be downloaded within two hours of the flight. Upon the realisation that I had no boarding pass and the app was not letting me conjure one, I had to run around the airport terminals looking for a human. When I located a human, I had to grovel to the people and staff arguing at the baggage desk, promise them a blood oath I wasn’t dropping off luggage and get a boarding pass for €50. The person behind the baggage desk didn’t really get that my flight was imminent and languidly printed out the blessed boarding pass to freedom. For a brief moment I contemplated that the worst outcome would be spending another night in gorgeous, enchanting Bordeaux, but it wouldn’t have been as fun without my friend so I ran at Bolt-like speeds to get through security and back home. From blissfully relaxed to horribly stressed, this trip had it all!