Arcachon

Following the events described in this blog entry, this happened:

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Our excursion for today was to take a ferry across the bay to Cap Ferret, and toodle about a bit. We walked our bikes out onto the pier, and waited for the ferry to arrive. Feelings of adventure swelled within us.

This particular ferry boat filled up rather quickly, and we ended up boarding another that came in right behind it. The second craft was significantly larger, but either would have been cool in retrospect.

Across the bay, oyster beds lined the shore on either side of the pier.

Tide was out, and the beds could be worked, in whatever way one works an oyster bed. I speculate that this man was doing something to keep the oysters moist while the tide was out.

I have no idea what duties fell to Oyster Dog to accomplish.

When we arrived, tide was out and you can see the boats on the shore resting on the sandy beach. When we returned in the afternoon to take the ferry back, the tide had come in, the boats were floating at anchor, and the oyster beds were completely submerged.

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Cycling Experience: Replace chain after it slips off the chainring.  Level up!!!

I didn’t know the chain had jumped the chainring, as I was riding about 50 yards ahead. That look of smug satisfaction comes from figuring out how to put the chain back on and executing the plan all by herself. Boo-yah!

***

We pedaled out to a small harbor area, and settled in for a midday snack. Our map and accompanying directions strongly recommended this locale, so we grabbed a table in the shade of a tree/umbrella combo.

I ordered a Chèvre salad, and what the menu said was a duck terrine. I ordered the terrine thinking I could complete the pig-salmon-duck loaf chunk trifecta. To wash it all down, a 2011 Larrivet Haut-Brion.

The duck terrine was actually a jar of stuff. Savory enough, but not really what I was after. Frankly, I really wasn’t overly interested in duck loaf chunks either. And thusly did I learn a lesson about ordering something simply for the potential photo op.

Julia went for grilled sardines, with salad.

They were reportedly quite tasty. So tasty, in fact, that Julia decided to try Sardine Eyeball. 

Here is the result.

You’re welcome.

Of course, if you are not into that, there is always cheese.

Chris makes his Cheese Face

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We had seen a lot of medieval churches over the last few days – one in every village of a certain size or larger. This church, however, had a unique visual impact.

This is a Catholic church, but the building has a heavy Algerian influence.

Inside, of note, was a fabulous cloth chandelier. We speculated that this could also have provided inspiration for the Travelling Scarf.

***

A stop at a grocery store yielded the following images.

So Beautiful

Strangely Appropriate

***

Offered without comment.

I want a doggie.

***

Back across the bay again, we decided to have dinner at one of the beach front restaurants.

The menu offered sangria, so we decided to check it out. It was pretty good. Not as good as Spanish sangria, but better than what we’ve had stateside.

The restaurant was named “Moules & Beef”. Checking wordreference.com disclosed that moules means ‘mussels’. It noted that moules was also used as a slang term for a body part, in a manner similar to how the word ‘clam’ is sometimes used in American English. So, we riffed on that whole thing for a while, because we are ridiculously immature at times, and also it’s fun.

I would not have thought it possible to feel as though I needed a break from the cuisine we had been enjoying thus far, but in fact all I really wanted was something simple. So I got a burger and a beer. I requested the burger ‘medium’, but it was pretty much raw in the middle. Hey, tartare burger, I decided. Overall, it was pretty tasty. The bun was fantastic. [That was not sarcasm, it really was notably good. – ed.]

Julia got a big pot of warm, slippery moules. <chortle...>

They were garlicy, with parsley, and totally slurp worthy.

Julia had also ordered what appeared on the menu as Café Gourmand. We had thought this would be something like ‘really really good coffee’. As it turns out, this phrase refers to a collection of dessert foods. And also café.

Too Much Dessert

We didn’t leave much behind, but, seriously, at that point, we had to work at it.

***

Partway through the events described above, we took this picture.

This is the Highest Sand Dune in Europe. We are heading there tomorrow.

Festival of Stink

The next day’s ride opened with continued cycle-trekking through cultivated forest.

Two days ago Gérard had told us a bit about the area. Gascony was not as fertile or economically thriving a region as some, and to encourage businesses to invest in the area, Emperor Napoleon III established economic incentives. Those incentives continue to this day. A major industry in the area now is the cultivation of lumber, which the land is well suited to, and the tax incentives provide the impetus to make use of the land in an industry with a significant time delay to payoff.

Maturing trees next to a patch that has been recently harvested

One of the main uses for the trees is the processing of the pine resin into turpentine. The Inn at which we stayed the previous evening – Le Résinier– takes its name from that heritage.

On the ride, we passed by a working sawmill. I took the picture below, and wanted to take more, but a woman in a work apron emerged from the machinery and began yelling at me. I had no idea what she was saying - she may or may not have shouted one of the twenty-three French words with which I am familiar - but her displeasure came through loud and clear.

Julia and I were totally perplexed as to the reason for the fuss. We pedaled away, while the woman continued shouting at us. She went on for quite a while…

Rustic looking log-picture

I am pleased to report that garden gnomes are actually a thing, and that we saw some in a garden. They looked content.

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On a previous stop at a large market, we had stocked up on picnic items, and we were quite pleased to roll them out.

We had scored a couple of Grand Cru Bordeaux, some foie gras, some various sliced meat treats, jams of both quince and fig, and a quadrumvirate of smelly cheeses: Pont-l'Évêque, Époisses , a soft French Munster, and a soft raw milk Chèvre. The first three we can sometimes obtain at a local specialty cheese store – when they are available – and they are quite dear. The raw milk Chèvre cannot be had in the States at all.

We stretched this picnic fare over two days. On the second day, we stopped by a boulangerie and scored some split-tail mini-baguettes. They have a name that is not baguette, but I do not remember what it is. They are different in some way from baguettes but I do not know exactly how, because my bread-fu is weak.

But it was really really good.

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We cycled through terrain that transitioned quickly from cultivated woodland to coastal waterway stuff. Day Two of Stinky Picnic was in a park in front of a small harbour, and next to a bird sanctuary.

Julia was keen to check out the Parc Ornithologique, and I was keen to nap on a park bench, so we did those things.

Julia took many many many pictures of wetness and birds. And also of a rodenty thing.

A rodenty thing

A colorful and particularly loud duck, making its loud duck noise

 The cycle path followed the edge of the bird sanctuary for a few kilometers

As we neared the coast, we cycled past some beachy bits

And as we entered Arcachon – where we would be spending the next two nights - we passed a number of small harbors, full of fishing boats, which were also hubs for the oyster farming trade.

Oysters are grown on grates which are maintained in shallow water, then harvested, after which the grates are cleaned off and re-used. For years, Arcachon was a sleepy village devoted to oyster farming, until later being developed into a beach community. However, the oyster farming trade still thrives.

We were pretty tuckered out at this point, as this was the longest bicycling stretch of the trek – 50 Km – so we did not spend a lot of time on the boardwalk. However, we did spend a few minutes looking over the barrier and between the tents at an acrobatic show that was being held.

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We were drained of energy, and for dinner stuck with the prix fixe menu.

Duck bacon!!

Julia’s entrée was smoked duck breast, accompanied by various salad stuffs, among which were toasted walnuts. Duck bacon + toasted walnuts = awesome.

Salmon terrine

Mine was a salmon loaf chunk, with nice salad components, and part of a quail egg.

Lobster Lady

We also occasionally got to see a lady fish a lobster out of a tank. Whenever this happened, she had to contend with a skirt she obviously wished were longer at the moment, while simultaneously making sure she did not drip water from her lobster net onto nearby guests. We were kind of punchy-tired, so this was amusing.

For mains, Julia got sturgeon stew. When it arrived, she realized she had no spoon, and was not sure how to eat the dish. However, the broth was so rich and salty that it was immediately apparent it was not to be slurped in and of itself, but was there to provide flavour and spice.

I opted for sea bass. I typically do not eat fish, but thought I would be adventurous, and had envisioned being presented with a grilled fillet. Ha ha ha ha!

I hugely dislike dealing with fish bones but I went ahead and, rather gamely I thought, peeled the flesh away from the spine and ribs, and tucked into it. It was in fact delightful. All went very well indeed until I inadvertently got a mouth full of fin. At that point I threw in the towel. You win this round, Mister Sea Bass, but I will be back one day for your brother…

Le Résinier

Here is a picture of our guest room at La Maison Rose. You can sort of get a feel for the comfy tranquility of it all. We slept like logs.

As was dinner the night before, breakfast was a homemade take on the classic petit dejeuner; breads, jams, yogurt, fruits, coffee, orange juice. Though in this case the breads included homemade brioche and pound cake, courtesy of Corinne.

Gérard had spent some time the previous evening describing some of the terrain through which we would be cycling today. Of particular interest were some lagoons we would be passing by. The water table was very close to the surface in this area, and the depressions gouged by the glaciers of the previous ice age now were constantly filled with shallow water, making for a special ecosystem.

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Cycling Experience: Today I heard the phrase, “NO!! Stop doing that. You may not feel my bewb when we are riding bicycles.”

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So, we arrived at the lagoons, and there was this totally cool sign that indicated to us that this was a Serious Thing that many people would be interested in. So we were.

There was a circular trail that we could hike around; it would take roughly 1.5 hours (we got that figure by dividing by two the amount our guidebook said it would take). We set off in search of lagoony goodness.

This was a bona fide ecologically sensitive environment, and the walkways to the observation areas consisted of boardwalk, surrounded by a barrier on either side, and often on top – presumably to prevent visitors from going off-path and trampling on things.

The walkway led to an enclosed room with viewing slits. I sort of felt like I should have a .30 cal. machine gun at hand…

So at any rate, here is what the lagoons looked like.

We were, to say the least, mildly disappointed. It was clear to us, given our previous experience in the French countryside, that the Lagoons were closed. Likely they would not open until 16:00. Either that, or water was not provided to the Lagoons on Thursdays.

We hiked on around the loop, disappointed, but not undaunted. Until…

We’re not sure what happened here, but we got to see a lagoon with actual water. Also, we noticed a number of different animal tracks around the lagoon, and that was pretty cool.

As we hiked the rest of the way back to our bicycles, we cut though a stand of forest, filled at ground level with chest-high ferns; that was seriously cool.

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Cycling Experience: Chainring print on back of calf.

Level Up!!

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We arrived in Le Barp, and checked in at Le Résinier, an inn and also a restaurant that we were very much looking forward to enjoying. Listed in the Michelin guide, the restaurant Le Résinier is all about the fresh. Here is a shot taken from just outside the door of our room, where their herbs are grown.

At dinner that night, as an opening cocktail, we ordered Cocktail du Résinier, consisting of champagne, red wine, floc de Gascogne, crème de mure, and armagnac (if the rouge version was ordered), or white wine, floc de Gascogne, crème de peche, and armagnac (if ordering blanc).

We didn’t know what to expect, but we ordered one blanc and one rouge. Our take is that they were the French version of sangria. And, man, they were good.

An amuse bouche arrived – tall shot glasses of hot cream of asparagus soup, topped with slightly soured whipped cream. This was a treat. The soup was stellar, and the topping was a perfect counterpoint.

The previous evening, we had discussed how pleased we were to get to pedal through Sauternes. Gérard offered that they rarely ever had Sauternes with dessert. Rather, they drank it as an aperitif, with cheese, or, ideally, foie gras.

We ordered glasses Sauternes with to accompany our entrées, because this:

Seared foie, with a lightly sweet broth and pieces of apple

From the moment we saw seared foie on the menu, we knew how this was going to go down. And it was OhMyGod good. To quote Julia, “One of the top five things ever to hit my tongue”. She was kind enough to share with me. I still don’t know exactly what the attraction is, but I kept asking for more bites. It was really that special. And yeah, the Sauternes was the perfect accompaniment.

In keeping with the theme of Foods That Are Wrong, for my entrée I ordered veal. Presented with vegetables in a, um… veal sauce of some kind.

For the wine, we had an incredible 2007 Chapelle d'Ausone Saint-Emilion.

For the main, Julia had a sort of shredded, roast duck. Tender, juicy portions are obscured in this photo beneath thin slices of crisped potato. The fun bit here is that Julia didn’t actually know what she had ordered. The entire menu was in French, with no helper descriptions in English, and she picked it without help from wordreference.com. When it arrived, we were trying to decide whether it was beef or maybe some kind of seasoned pork. We asked the waitress, who gave us a sort of puzzled look and told us it was duck. It was, once again, not heavy or fatty or greasy or any of the things that duck seems to be when we have had it locally at home. Rather, it was exquisitely good.

I have hypothesized that, after having harvested the livers for foie gras, the French have had to find a way to deal with vast quantities of leftover duck-remainder, and have therefore - of necessity - gotten very good at preparing it. Whatever the reason, the assessment of preparation skill stands: France Knows Duck.

I got a lamb part, in a rich white sauce and lots of roasted garlic. I’m not certain entirely what the lamb part was. Perhaps a shoulder?

For dessert, I got some kind of chocolate thing. It looked like a take on molten chocolate cake, but its core appeared to be some kind of bread pudding.

Julia nailed a crème brûlée. It was delectable, of course, but what we have both noted and been impressed by is the delicacy of the brûlée.

Armagnac is a type of brandy, produced in the Bordeaux region, and Le Résinier stocks an impressive cellar. Like Cognac, Armagnac is distilled from wine. However, it is only single-distilled, and thus also spends longer maturing in the barrel. We opted to splurge a bit and get some of the older stuff. Burying one’s nose in a snifter of Armagnac is a mistake. Holding it at chest level and drawing in the bouquet provides a surplus of olfactory input.

Both contained copious amounts of buttery vanilla, nuttiness, and assorted florals. The 1933 seemed a smidge softer than the 1934, though that is almost certainly characteristic of the different Armagnacs rather than the extra year. It would have been cool if we knew enough about brandies to have been able to appreciate them more.