At Le Saint Martin, we’ve enjoyed the beach, lolled around in the shade of the lime trees, pottered about in the stores and generally re-acquainted ourselves with the place.
A message comes from friends with a van like ours who are travelling in this direction: would we like to meet up? Yes- we certainly would! I go around to ‘L’Ocean’ restaurant, where we’ve eaten on previous occasions, and book us a table- then we settle by the pool to read and wait.
The friends arrive, check in and get settled, then we have a welcome catch-up followed by a great meal at L’Ocean. Next morning they’re off towards Spain.
It’s time for an excursion. One of our cycle trips in past years was to Vieux Boucau- on a brilliant network of off-road cycle tracks, but I’m not yet able to cycle and it’s too far to walk so we opt to take a bus ride from a convenient stop near the beach. The bus, we learn, is free, which makes it all the better. It arrives with a very jovial driver and meanders its way through Moliets et Maa collecting one or two people, one of whom is a very elderly and infirm gentleman who struggles to get on and sit, then attempts to get the attention of the person in front to ring the bell for him to alight. All is well after I’ve poked Husband in the ribs to do it and the man clambers off.
Vieux Boucau isn’t historic or especially touristy, but is a beautifully laid out town with several attractive squares, a stream running through it and a large lake/lagoon between the town and the sea. Much of the town is pedestrianised, with a wide avenue flanked with shops and cafes leading out to the lake. We are on the hunt for a particular T-shirt that Husband wants but it proves elusive, even though we know the brand name, and after much searching have managed to find the store.
Aware of the bus return time, we head back towards the stop with a slight detour for ice cream. I’m still missing the freedom of my bike as we wait for the bus. We’ve just missed the previous one and have a longish wait now. There’s not much else to see in VB that we haven’t viewed a few times!
It’s still hot in Moliets Plage and we get one more beach session in. Nearing the end of our stay, we also get a walk- mostly around the golf course, which is pleasant enough and shady, with copses of cork oaks. It’s a complex with its own housing- twee ‘half timbered’ designs for those whose holidays are purely golf. The young Germans opposite us are packing up to leave- but not for home, as the young mum tells me. They are entitled to an entire year of maternity/paternity leave and are heading further south with their squalling little bundle of baby. ‘She is a handful’ says the mum, in her very excellent English and I tell her what good parents they are.
It’s a bit of a wrench to tear ourselves from Le Saint Martin, but leave we must.
Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com
