Ongi etorri

At the time when the first rays of the sun wake up the city, the market halls of Bayonne are already bustling. The lilting accent of the producers resonates in the middle of the colorful stalls, the sweet and savory scents turn your head. Espelette pepper, ham, chipirons, Basque cake with black cherry jam, sheep’s cheese, Irouléguy wine… Everything the region produces in splendor is there and it’s a treat!

A delicious foamy chocolate on the Place des Halles gives the energy necessary to discover Grand Bayonne, the historic center. In the majestic Sainte-Marie Cathedral, the still gentle sun illuminates the Carrara marble high altar through the Canaanite stained glass window. And before returning to the lively streets, strolling through the Gothic cloister fills you with serenity.

The city exudes the joy of living and everywhere the welcome is warm. We can clearly see this in Petit Bayonne, on the other side of the Nive. In the narrow streets of the beating heart of Bayonne’s festivals, the colorful houses bring balm to the heart. On the way to the Basque museum, you come across splendid works of street art as well as Art Deco stained glass windows. Here, art is everywhere!

In Cambo-les-Bains, there is a place that lends itself to daydreaming. And for good reason, the Villa d’Arnaga comes straight out of the imagination of Edmond Rostand, the author of Cyrano de Bergerac. On the French garden side, we forget time while contemplating the sun rising above the Mondarrain peak. In the English garden, the scents and colors of perennials captivate the senses. And inside the neo-Basque style residence, one of the firsts of this architectural movement, there is excess: like theater sets, each of the rooms is staged by a contemporary artist from Rostand.

Crossing the green hills and chili plantations by bike, what joy! This is the best way to arrive in Espelette and be overwhelmed by the magic of this typical town, all dressed in red and white. The emblem of the region hangs on the facades of the houses and at lunchtime, it is impossible to resist the scent of piperade, axoa or Basque chicken that invades the streets. Near the pediment, the echoes of a game of pelota resonate as the church door is pushed open. Inside, the mystical voices of a Basque male choir inevitably give you chills.

In Saint-Jean-de-Luz, the Pyrenees mountains flow into the fiery ocean, offering a breathtaking landscape. Behind us stands the majestic rock barrier. In front of us, the waves lick the white sand, carrying surfers of all ages on their crests. It seems to be the ideal place to start on the board.

In front of the Ciboure fish market, the small colorful trawlers lie gently in front of what was once an island housing the Récollets convent. On the stalls, the morning’s catches are glistening treasures. The chefs of the coast compete for the most beautiful pieces, which we will find a few moments later at our table in a restaurant in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, enhanced with Koxkera hake, sea bream with pil-pil sauce or squid casserole with ink.

On foot or by bike along the beaches, you never tire of admiring the Basque coast. This is what we repeat in the botanical garden perched on the cliffs or while walking along the coastal path and along the green cornice with chiseled rocks. In Ciboure, Urrugne, or from the sumptuous castle of Antoine d’Abbadie, we scan the ocean on the lookout for Belharra, the mythical wave. We always have our eyes fixed on infinity when the setting sun greets us in the middle of an orgy of tapas, in the small Spanish port of Hondarribia, opposite Hendaye.