I’m hanging on, ’cause it isn’t yet our Moroccan trip. Yes, it is a sand dune lost in the middle of France. The tallest in Europe de facto. At some point, I felt like we were out of Europe. Such a very short stay in Bassin d’Arcachon with Lénaïc, a kick start for this deadly summer heat. I used to complain about the cold weather last winter, and also the humid Philippine’s weather, but who would’ve thought that European summer can bring out the grumpy in me?! Regardless of that, having the opportunity to travel and get to know the rest of France is amazing. The country is so diverse in each of its region, that every place you go to is always a good surprise, just pure wonderments!
Lénaïc and I actually decided not to travel along the imminent myriad of tourists from highway to national roads to little villages, beaches, and the rest of the tourists traps and clichés, well…where tourists will be. (It’s a gem to travel with an eccentric local! haha) Not because we are anti social, it’s just traffic are insane and can literally sweat your arses off! However, our work forces us to face this summer and so we decided to make a little detour for our own little pleasures. Arcachon was actually our second stop, and there’s no way we are going to miss “trekking” the Grande Dune du Pilat. Climbing this substantially 360-foot tall dune (twice!–back and forth) is without a qualm pushing you on your limits. Dehydration, barefoot, sweats, and burnt skin–I mean you don’t go there being pretty and to be pretty and expect coming back the same. (Don’t forget to bring water and light weight slip ons)
By hook or by crook, reaching aloft is a sheer reward. I am mad that these photos don’t do justice for its astonishing panoramic view. But I guess that’s what keeps people exploring places they haven’t been or places seen on photos alone–being dissatisfied about it and craving for more.