The fisherman and the wannabe

Random holiday shots #1

We just got back from our one week holiday in Super Hubby's hometown. I'm rested, exhausted, happy and grumpy all at the same time. :) These mixed emotions might have something to do with the fact that our drive home was 15 hours long, and costed us 350 euro PER WAY in petrol and toll charges.

WE SHOULD HAVE JUST TAKEN A FLIGHT!!!

*complaining wife mode off*

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 *yerhhh! my husband so cute loh! :)

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Capbreton and the best breakfast EVER!

 The Capbreton lighthouse. 

I love Capbreton. It is a small commune in the French Pays-Basque area, 40km away from Biarritz. It is quite touristy, but the difference is that it's tourists are mainly residents from around the area - families enjoying their weekend outings, fathers and sons fishing, people cycling, kids rollerblading - a very down to earth and rustic sort of touristy, if you know what I mean.

We went twice, the first time at night for some dessert with my MIL and JM, and the other time just Super Hubs and me for breakfast, which I shall get to soon. The atmosphere of that little area was buzzing in a very peaceful, happy sort of way.

It's a small little port, with sailboats and fishboats docked, and a small little wet market right next to the pier. When we went the first time at night, we saw the fishboats head out and Super Hubs told me they do this every night, and the next morning, they come back with the freshest, most succulent seafood to sell at the market. Each market stall owner fishes their own seafood, and does not supply it anywhere else. If there isn't good fish, then the stall doesn't open.

Fish stall overlooking the pier

That bit of information gave me an idea, and I bugged Super Hubs to go back EARLY the next morning, so I could have my dream breakfast. He wasn't very enthusiastic, but obliged to avoid any tantrums.

So, the next morning we arrived at around 10am, and Capbreton was already buzzing with people doing their morning exercise, walking, fishing... And I headed straight to the tiny market. I was nervous cos as we were driving there, Super Hubs said that because of the weather, many stalls won't be open. I scolded him, "Don't be negative! Touch wood!" and made him touch his own head. ;p

So cute. Such a big rod for such a small boy.

I stared at him for the longest time, and he was very serious abt his fishing.

Anways, cutting the long story short. There were not too many stalls open. But that didn't really matter, cos the one stall that I wanted was open.

 *TA-DA!*

And my dream breakfast came true.

The face of utter bliss.

Sidenote, see the empty stalls behind?

We had 12 of the freshest local oysters in the world for only 5 euros, sat at the side of the pier, while the many people who walked past us were amused and each said smilingly, "bon apetit!" I still remember the taste of the oysters, with just a slight squeeze of lemon juice - such a delight I can't begin to describe it. I mean, I love oysters, but these were just out of the world!

Even Super Hubs who doesn't normally eat breakfast was popping the oysters like no tomorrow and I had to eat quickly in case he took my share :p.

 Hmmmm. My idea of heaven.

Of Labenne and the 90-yr old

Labenne is what they call a 'sauvage' beach, with 'sauvage' meaning 'wild waters'. Visitors here are mainly experienced surfers who dare the scary waves and tempt their fates as there are no lifeguards to save them if anything should happen. The waves are normally ferocious, and even if they aren't, the undercurrents are deadly, and no normal person would actually go swimming in them.

We went cos it was the least populated (and in my opinion, most beautiful) beach in the area, so our beach buddy, Oliver, would be able to play in peace.

Oliver is 90-years old (15 in real years), and watched William grow up. He can't see too well anymore, but he's still energetic, frisky and thinks of himself as a young man. He'd place himself in front of us every single time a (bigger and much younger dog) would be in the vicinity and growl at them menacingly, as if daring them to come close to us.

While we were in Bayonne, he attached himself to me, and assigned himself my protector of sorts. He'd always plonk himself outside our room in the attic as we slept, and every single time I excused myself to go upstairs, he'd come bounding up the stairs with me, and wait patiently by the door while I'd use the toilet or grab something from the suitcase. When I sat in the living room, he'd place himself a foot away and pretend to sleep, and at 30 minute intervals, if I didn't pay any attention to him, would come by for a pat or rub. Needless to say, I fell in love.

Back to our tiny trip to Labenne. When William told him we were bringing him along to their old fave haunt, it was as if he was possessed by the happy spirit or something. He wagged his tail so furiously I thought it was going to fall off, and jumped on me with unbridled joy. In the car, he sat on my lap and stuck his head out, so happy to feel the wind in his face, and when we were nearing the area (which was half an hour away), started trying to jump out of the car. How is it that dogs 'know' and remember so well?

It was an afternoon out of a tiny little movie. Me and my love, and the dog who was so infectiously happy, who made us see everything through his eyes. His simple joy of just being there, wagging his tail, breathing in the sea scents, looking around in wonderment, jumping around. That day at Labenne, I felt so content, and so deliriously appreciative of nature and life that if I had a tail, I'd be wagging it too. 

Pays Basque - All about (home-cooked) food

Before we set off on this holiday, I planned a lovely wardrobe in my suitcase. Space wasn't a constraint because we were driving, so I prepared sundresses and pretty cardigans (to layer in case the weather got cold) for the beach and sightseeing, lovely LBD's for dinners at nice restaurants, gorgeous heels for jeans when I feel like looking chic, the list went on. I had an outfit a day, and I was planning on looking very very pretty.

Little did I know, there was absolutely no use for any of that, and I ended up wearing shorts and big tees most of the trip. Why? Because we ate soooo much and lazed at the house most of the time, making me feel like a fatty who just needed to hide her bloated tummy.

But I have absolutely no regrets for the 2kgs that I gained, cos the food was so good!!! We didn't eat out much (in fact, we only ate out twice - and I'll blog about that separately), because my MIL and her hubby-to-be JM stocked the fridge with so much goodies that there was really not much point eating out.

When we woke up, there would be fresh baguettes on the table, and a new packet of meat from the boucherie (butcher) that we'd cook on the BBQ grill outdoors.

The thing about this area is the pride that they have in their meat, veges and fruits. To them, their produce is the best of the best in the world, and I have to agree.

The excellence was evident in the fact that we never had to do much cooking. Our meats needed no more than a quick grill and some pepper and salt, but tasted absolutely out of this world. The amount of meat we ate was enormous. I'd even go so far as to say that in the 8 days we were there, we probably ate up to an entire cow and an entire pig.

Veges were lightly tossed with olive oil, also from the region. And the fruits, oh the fruits! I have now become a peach and melon snob after a week of nothing but the sweetest, honey-est, juiciest peaches and melons everyday.

My super MIL also brought out her stash of assorted homemade pates, foie gras - and we near cleaned out her supply with Super Hubs and I polishing almost a tub a day.

We also drank copious amounts of wine and rose, ate a tonne of ham, chorizo, cheeses and beautiful baguettes...

On her off-days, my MIL made me the lasagne I had heard so much about...

... and an old-school French beef stew thing that I want to learn how to make:

On another off day, mother and son also got together to make Pot-au-Feu:

Now you see where the 2kgs came from?

Pays-Basque: back!

We got back to Luxembourg late last night/ early this morning (3am), after a 15-hour drive. Super hubs was so tired he crashed immediately and slept for 13 hours since I wasn't a very helpful co-driver, having slept one third of the way, babbled incessantly in my made up French another one third of the way, and complained about how hungry I was/ how bad the jam was/ how horribly idiotic French drivers are/ how much I needed to pee every 30 minutes.

Which brings me to my travel advice 101 when traveling on the road to/fro Luxembourg and the South West of France.

To be able to pee comfortably, you need to:
1. Bring your own toilet paper and wet tissue.
2. Wear shorts.
3. Take along some shower gel (to wash your hands after pee, and also your feet + legs which will inevitably get sprayed with flushing water which gushes out from the squatting toilet (they only have squatting toilets) once you press 'flush', wetting the entire below-the-knee part of your legs with your pee/poo and other goodies from the disgusting floor.
4. Practice holding your breath for as long as possible especially since you will need to wait in a very long line, together with the other summer holidayers. This is optional, depending on whether or not you can stand acidic urine/ sulphur/ rotting smells.

Hmph! And people complain about Malaysian public toilets! All I can say is, give me a PLUS highway toilet ANYTIME compared to the filthy toilets I had to endure in the south west of France.

Other than my toilet misadventures, this trip was super duper wonderful which meant we hardly did anything except eat and read(me) and eat and garden(him) and eat and sleep and play with dogs and eat and sightsee a bit and eat and hang out with my in-laws and eat. We ate so much both of us put on 2kg each.

I still have tons of pics to sort out (took almost 800 in a week, and most of it food), so will blog more in the next few days. Till then, here's a tiny slice of our diet the past 8 days.

The Basque Country

I'm so excited about this Friday! We're leaving for our summer hols in Biarritz, Super Hub's hometown.

10 days relaxing at the place which is known as the Queen of Beaches, and the Beach of Kings, thus named for all the royalty that used to vacation there.

Pic from: Source

Also famous for surfers who ride the waves which are a million metres high. I'm of course more interested in their washboard abs than their waxy surfboards. *grin*

Pic from: Source

Sea, sun, sand here I come!