The Dune du Pilat

This past summer, Max and I took a road trip down to the Bordeaux region of France. Neither of us have spent too much time in France’s wine capital, so we packed up Smiley Dog and booked a one of the few hotels still accepting reservations for France’s most popular vacation period : mid-August. Jojo adjusted to hotel living immediately, waiting patiently in the elevator and greeting other travelers in the jobby.

Our first full day, we drove out to the Dune du Pilat, the largest dune in Europe located just West of Bordeaux along the Atlantic Coast.

Having visited the Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado, I was prepared to be unimpressed. The Great Sand Dunes cover about 19,000 acres and rise to a level of 750 feet – a mini-mountain range of sand. The Dune du Pilat only reaches about 360 feet at its highest point, and follows 2.7 kilometers of coastline. But honestly? I would recommend the Dune du Pilat any day. Parking was easy, the Smiley Dog was allowed in the park (but not on the beach itself), and the views from the top are incredible. We made our way past gift shops and cafés to a staircase leaing directly to the top of a MOUNTAIN of beach overlooking the sea, with a forest dwarfed behind us and tiny boats in the water below. It had rained the night before, so we were comfortable walking around and digging our feet into the sand. Families had brought picniks, and the more adventurous were “sledding” or parachuting off the face of the dune.

Beaches of France : Guerande and La Turballe

Part 3

This funny instrument is called a vielle à roue, or a hurdy gurdy.

Guerande is a fortified medieval city just north of La Baule and St. Nazaire. We decided to drop by the inner city on the way home from our beach weekend to visit the original church, get some lunch, and maybe sample their Brittany wares. The region is known its heavy Breton influence, sailing culture, and coarse salt production. Today, the city is filled with artisans and their shops selling paintings and sculptures.

Why learn to speak American? Tomorrow, the entire world will speak Breton!

Later in the afternoon, we wanted to get a look at the marais salants, salt flats, in La Turballe. Not much to see, just piles of delicious lying around.

Oh boy! Salt!

Next to the flats, we found a parking lot with signage leading to a beach. Adding to our weekend of spontaneity, we decided to take a stroll to check it out. Fifteen minutes of marching through a forest filled with picnicking families and the beach finally came into view. On such a hot day, we were excited to finally see a natural and tranquil beach. We finally reached the top of the dunes and looked down to admire the clear water and the bay below.

The face of blissful ignorance.

Look at that view! The sand is so soft! Let’s go dip our feet in the water!

Hey that’s weird… there’s a woman swimming – naked? And there’s another guy and he’s – also naked? And those people over there… and… uh oh…

As it turns out, this particular beach was far more natural than anticipated. We had stumbled upon an unofficial naturist beach. Standing at the top of the dunes, we tried not to stare as couples, families, and groups of friends all paraded past us to enjoy their naked day at the beach. After a few moments of shocked silence and attempts at nonchalance, Max turned to me and asked:

Can we go back to the car now?

Maybe next time, Naked Beach.

Beaches of France : La Baule and Pornichet

Part 2

“The most beautiful beach in Europe”

The morning after our St. Nazaire fiasco, Max and I woke up early and drove to La Baule, a bay spanning 12 kilometers (7.5 miles) in southern Brittany. The enormous and beautiful beach is covered in restaurants and “clubs”- bars for parents to relax while their children engage in camp activites. The entire bay is lined with hotels, luxury apartments, and a rambla for long strolls.

We parked in Pornichet, the low-key southern end of the beach, and walked forever to find some sandwiches and gelatto in the main shopping area. We had the beach mostly to ourselves until mid-afternoon, when people flooded into the water or posted up in one of the rental tents. We had to be on the lookout for enormous jellyfish that regularly washed up on shore, but otherwise spent the afternoon reading relaxing in the sun.

Toys for wealthy children

Brittany architecture?

Shopping/restaurant district

European beaches are notoriously laid back, but coming from America, it’s still surprising to see women casually spending the day topless on the beach (more on that later). In France, however, toplessness doesn’t seem to provoke any attention, positive or negative.

That evening, we avoided the crowds by returning to Pornichet for dinner (more forever walking), and enjoyed a tasty seafood dinner at Le Normandy.

Check out the lemon juice contraption.

Beaches of France : St. Nazaire

Part 1

One Friday a couple weekends back, we had just arrived home from a long day of work. I was on the phone with my dad when Max suddenly burst into the dining room:

I’m on vacation next week! Let’s go to the beach this weekend! We can pack our bags and leave right now!

But Max, isn’t your friend’s birthday party this weekend?

Whatever, I don’t even want to go!

Didn’t you promise our neighbor we’d help her build a shed?

*Cough cough* Something came up, I’ll help her next week!

What are we going to do with the dog?

He can stay with my parents!

Where are we even going? Can we talk about this once I’m done with this phone call?

I just found a hotel! My parents will watch Jojo! Hotel booked! I just packed your toothbrush let’s GO!

So that’s how we found ourselves driving to St. Nazaire on a Friday night. We checked into the hotel around 9 pm, briefly conferred with the overly enthusiastic man at the front desk, and strolled into town to find some food. The city seemed pleasant enough, clearly a destination for tourism and shopping. But as we strolled through street after street of closed and deserted businesses, it became clear that finding dinner would be a challenge. Even the beach offered no dining options. Clearly, St. Nazaire was the worst city ever.

In the end, tired and grumpy from hunger, we made our way to the only remaining option : Quick (French Burger King) in a shopping plaza just outside town.

Not pictured: food