It really is interesting to see that most signs in the area are written in at least 2, if not 3 different languages. The first here is French and the second is Basque
Casey took some pics of the drive into Hendaye, along the Road of the Corniche. They are some of the most beautful views I have seen. Really.
We checked out the Office of Tourism in Hendaye, to see what the area offered, since I had no idea what was around. This is another good travel tip I have learned. Going to the Office of Tourism in a city will do a couple of things for ya: Get you into the center of the town and give you brochures and usually an attendant there that speaks English, who can explain things to you and make a reservation for you. This is what happened for us in Hendaye. I found a brochure for a place the girls could ride ponies, up in the mountains in a nearby village (or city. I dunno the difference in these parts). The woman offered to call the place for me and set up a ride for the girls the next morning. The woman got a map out for us and wrote some directions. I knew it was going to be a challenge when she said several different times to look for such and such a sign. It will be in green. Or vert, she wrote. Or whatever. And when you see this other sign, you've gone too far. And "it's pretty windy into the mountains and might be difficult to find". Oh. crap.
So when we got back to the apartment I punched in the "address" (more on that later) into my GPS. Nope. Nothing. Nada. Gulp. And no internet access in the apartment, so no google maps. Double gulp. So any normal person (that's where I diverge) would abandon the mission and just know that it is not doable. Don't take it on to find this place. But I saw it as a challenge. Can I do this? Can I find it on my own? Wing it? Use my gut? And away we went.
I prepped Casey that we may not be able to find the place. She knew the deal. She had faith in me. "Mommy, I know you can do it. You can do anything." Wow, okay, don't let this kid down. She really thinks you got in in ya. Oh, and she REALLY wanted to ride a pony. Yeah yeah, fine.
So we drove, and turned and backtracked and called the place and tried to speak Spanglishbasqueish. Wha? The man on the phone gave me some directions that I understood 1 out of 4 words. Turns out the lovely gentleman there that runs the place speaks Basque first, then French (k, the first two leave me out completely) then some Spanish then a little English. Okay, I think I got it. And then we saw it. The sign in green. THE SIGN IN GREEN! I found the place! And we were only 20 minutes past our reservation time. Not too bad for being in the mountains of the Basque region, no technology to help us and finding a random little horse stable.
Cheval! Horse! Getting close
This is the name of the facility and was in the MOST RANDOM spot, but we found it!
Casey captured my triumph of locating the place
It was interesting what the establishment's (that makes me laugh. It was totally a one man show, on his property, I'm sure) idea of a ride was. It was me leading them on the pony while we walked. The instructions were something like "Walk about 20 minutes down the road and then turn around and come back." Oh, okay. So I did. And trying to get pictures was funny too. Every time I would try and snap one, the pony would lunge his head to the ground and go foraging for weeds. What was even funnier was when each kid wanted to go fast. Picture me, leading a pony, who wasn't so thrilled to be on this adventure with us, trotting and the saddle sliiiiiiiding down, around and each kid falling off. The best part was that neither kid cried about it. They just got back on and were ready to go again. And of course, trying to impart wisdom on them (it's how I justify these travels) I taught them the old "getting back on the horse" adage. They totally got it and now Maya keeps saying it when she stays with something that is difficult. "Mom, I'm getting back on the horse!" I love it.
It's just a shame the girls didn't have any fun...
I ended up having a great conversation in Spanglish with the gentleman, I believe named Andoni. He was really nice and it was fun to practice my Spanish with him. And how sad that I was pleased to have ANY adult conversation, even if it meant struggling in a different language. But it makes me realize that I (and my family) can really live anywhere (okay, Asia scares me a bit) and get along. Highly due to the fact that A LOT of people in the world speak some English and possibly some Spanish. I know, not everywhere, but a lot of places.
After the ponyness, I decided to head to Saint-Jean-De-Luz http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Jean-de-Luz and check it out. I had read about this city prior to heading to Bordeaux. It is on the French side of the Basque region and it looked to me like a quintessential Basque city. We weren't disappointed! It is a coastal city with old streets, little shops and lots to look at. I do recommend a visit there if you happen to be in the area.
Our picnic we gathered at the outdoor market
How did they know we were coming?
They are only sitting still, contemplating the ocean, cuz they both have ice cream cones in their hands
Fancy castle across the water (seriously, I should really read about the place, I know)
Mom, can we go play on the beach? No. Please? No. You just went on a pony. Now eat your ice cream.
You know what they say about big shoes. Nope, me neither.
I do hope there is a fancy French way of pronouncing this area
We ended our day with a trip to a park we saw while trying to find a grocery store. I am honestly shocked that we actually had any energy left to do ANYTHING. We played for a bit, then hit the store. An adventure in itself when you are in a foreign country. Needless to say, we got back to the apartment and ate something and we were completely toasted. Fried. But we knew there would be another adventure soon...like the next day! Stay tuned for our venture over the border, into Spain.
I am clearly way to old for this
Me and my partners in crime. Or my captives. Whatevs
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