There is a fine drive to Cambo, at the base of the Pyrenees, but during the first part of the period of our stay at Biarritz the weather was too cold to take it, and in the latter part the days were getting rather too short, the distance being about eighteen miles.[48]
Few people visit Biarritz without making an excursion by railway to St. Sebastian to see a little of Spain. It is thirty-seven miles distant by rail, and can be easily managed in a day—in fact, going by morning train, one is left rather too much time in St. Sebastian. Crossing the river Bidassoa, the picturesque town of Fuenterrabia is the first object catching the eye on the Spanish border. A halt of an hour is made at Irun for examination of the luggage, and it is possible, though a risk, to drive off and return in time for the train after a hurried examination of this interesting old town, which from the railway has an appearance of being deserted. Leaving Irun, the railway winds its way through the mountains, and reaches St. Sebastian, which is a tidy-looking town standing at the mouth of a river crossed by a handsome bridge, with view out to the Bay of Biscay and to the fortress of St. Sebastian on a hill next the sea. The town lies on the landward side of this hill, the more modern part of it, at least, consisting of wide streets and lofty square houses with nothing redeeming about their aspect. Passing along the main wide street from the bridge, we arrive at an enclosed natural harbour, a tract of sea, like a bag contracted at the neck, through which communication is had with the bay without. The shipping is not extensive; the harbour proper, lying on the side nearest the sea, being small. On the south side, next the newer portion of the town and the railway, the grand plage bathing-place, with a wooden bathing-house, is found. Behind it the mountains rise picturesquely. It requires an order to see the fortress, which is mainly of earthen ramparts. The town itself has little of interest in it. Close by the railway station, however, there is a very large wooden amphitheatre for bull-fights. Bills containing announcements of one of these savage entertainments were placarded on the building and the railway stations and elsewhere. The dwellings on the line of railway are similar to those about Biarritz, principally of the Basque style; many of them have on the top little glazed houses, sort of huts, no doubt designated, according to the taste of the occupants, as observatories, retreats, or smoking-rooms. Except for seeing a little of Spain, I believe it is better rather to stop and see the curious old town of Fuenterrabia.
After 1st October a very marked change came over the appearance of Biarritz. Nearly all of the Spanish and French visitors (coming no doubt for the gaiety) then left, while the English influx for the winter season had scarcely begun. During the first fortnight of this month the town wore a deserted look, and this was greatly aggravated by many of the shops commencing to pack up for migration to other places, and one after another closing. I daresay, a month later, there would be more life in the place.
We had all experienced the greatest benefit from our short residence of about a month in Biarritz, and although the weather was, during the greater part of the time, especially at first, very cold, in consequence of the northeasterly winds, we felt that our invalid especially had derived great good from the ‘soothing and invigorating air;’ so much so that we fondly thought, owing to this and the former changes, she was now in recovered health, and that it only wanted another winter in the Riviera to set her completely up. Biarritz is considered too cold a place for delicate persons to winter in, and the approach of its winter season would in any view have warned us away. But we did feel extremely reluctant to leave; for this agreeable watering-place had quite taken our fancy, and perhaps we felt the leaving all the more that we had not seen it in its stern grandeur of a storm, or even in its wild grandeur of a cloudy sunset, while, under the influence of a gentle wind blowing from the south, the day upon which we left was one of the finest and sunniest we had had while there. Having a good hour before departure, we visited all the beaches and rocks, and lingered sorrowfully upon the scenes now so radiant in sunshine and so genial in their warmth, where we had spent pleasant times, and thence looked out upon the bright sparkling ocean gleaming below us, and the waves gently kissing the shore and bidding us adieu, and with unwilling steps returned to our hotel to leave for Pau. This leave-taking is one of the penalties to be paid for the pleasure of travelling in bright spots where everything has combined to make one happy—where the scenes are new and pleasing, where the object of travel seems to have been secured, and where hearts in perfect harmony and with congenial likings are able to appreciate the blessings they have thus been privileged together to enjoy.
XIX.
PAU.
Engaging a small omnibus for 8 francs to Bayonne, five miles distant, we left Biarritz at 12.25 for the 1.45 train to Pau. The station at Bayonne for Pau in one direction, and Bordeaux in another, is on the north side of the Adour, so that we had to cross the long bridge over that river. The day was glorious, and the Adour, by whose banks we proceeded part of the way, was looking very fine.
The traveller arrives at Pau by railway, in a station down in the depths on the banks of the river Gave, a tributary of the Adour. But the town itself mainly lies on a level platform, about 150 feet higher, and almost immediately above, the rise being sharp, and the road whereby it is reached very steep. The best advantage has been taken of the situation to erect in front line a series of imposing edifices near to the edge of this almost perpendicular height, so that on issuing from the railway station the coup d’œil is extremely impressive. Commencing at the west end, the chateau or castle, with its ivy-clad old tower or donjon, is the first object arresting the attention—a large symmetrical building in the chateau style. Then the eye runs along to the great new Hotel Gassion, with its corner projections (which are neither towers nor turrets), surmounted by clumsy extinguisher pointed roofs, and then the white Church of St. Martin’s, with its lofty graceful needle spire, and on to the Hotel de France and other imposing houses in the Place Royale—the whole producing an effect which gives to the stranger the idea of a magnificent city behind. But the truth is (all honour to those who did it), that the grenadiers have here all been brought to the front rank; for the stately group assembles in this commanding spot nearly all the buildings which are noteworthy in Pau, the only other, if I am not mistaken, being the white Church of St. Jacques, with its fine double spires, and perhaps the adjoining Palais de Justice, both at a little distance from the Place Royale.