Friday, 16 October 2009

breakfast in St Jean de Luz

The first hour of sunlight is one of my favourite times in St Jean de Luz. I try to get out for a run just before the sun rises, heading up a sleepy Rue Gambetta, past Ravel's house, back along the promenade and up to the little hill at St Barbe that sticks out into the ocean. If I time it right I catch a wonderful glimpse deep into the Pyrenees while the air remains crisp and clear.
Having spent most of my life living in cities it is still a shock to see such vast views everywhere I look. When I lived in cities I was concerned with my immediate vicinity, down here I have so much to take in that any concerns readily dissolve. It is a joy.
St Jean de Luz is nestled deep in the Basque country, right in the corner of the Bay of Biscay where France meets Spain. There are often many aeroplane contrails lining the sky, and they all seem to take a similar change of direction directly above. I imagine such a perpendicular geography makes an easily identifiable landmark, reminding pilots of their route.
First thing in the morning it is a busy route for long-haul flights from Spain, Africa and northern Europe but thankfully they are all flying so high there is no noise pollution, only Etch'a'sketch scribblings. All those people heading to so many destinations oblivious of the worlds beneath them.
Basque of the day:- big :: handi