On the recommendation of my roommate’s boss, we got up earlier than we would have on Saturday to head to the Atlantic coast of France to see a dune. I had absolutel
y zero expectations for this dune, but it had a write up in the book and national signs pointing to it, which is usually a good sign. This trip to the coast would also complete my exploration of each of the French coasts. I did Normandy on the North, the Cote d’Azur on the south and now Arcachon on the west. We had no trouble finding the dune and after a bit of a walk I was quite taken aback with a massive sand dune. It really did look like the Sahara. We climbed up the stairs to the top and walked in the foot prints of the adults, dogs and children who beat us to the dune. Thankfully the sand was a bit wet so not flying all over the place. You know how much me and sand get along, but I just took a deep breath and told myself that it wasn’t my car that I was driving, so it didn’t matter how much sand ended up in it. After spending a bit of time walking along the dune, we decided to take a bit more of a fun descent. No, we did not roll down the side of the dune like logs, although that was thoroughly considered, but we
did walk down the side of the dune which was really like skiing. Not slip sliding down it, but each step was about a foot deep in sand and slid a bit til the sand packed down enough to stop the foot. It was quite fun. I thought about hiking up the stairs to do it again, but then thought not. We ventured into the nearby town of Arcachon and walked out onto a pier over the bay to fully absorb the huge beaches and the Atlantic coast. We stopped for a quick coffee break where I royally pissed off an already grumpy waitress by ordering something by saying I didn’t want anything (I don’t know, she heard me wrong, or just assumed what I said, but I didn’t order anything, she thought I did, rudeness by her ensued). Our quick stop at the Atlantic complete, we jumped in the car and headed back east. Five hours later my roommate found stored up sand saved in her pant cuffs. Just a little treasure from a huge dune in France. Happens all the time.
y zero expectations for this dune, but it had a write up in the book and national signs pointing to it, which is usually a good sign. This trip to the coast would also complete my exploration of each of the French coasts. I did Normandy on the North, the Cote d’Azur on the south and now Arcachon on the west. We had no trouble finding the dune and after a bit of a walk I was quite taken aback with a massive sand dune. It really did look like the Sahara. We climbed up the stairs to the top and walked in the foot prints of the adults, dogs and children who beat us to the dune. Thankfully the sand was a bit wet so not flying all over the place. You know how much me and sand get along, but I just took a deep breath and told myself that it wasn’t my car that I was driving, so it didn’t matter how much sand ended up in it. After spending a bit of time walking along the dune, we decided to take a bit more of a fun descent. No, we did not roll down the side of the dune like logs, although that was thoroughly considered, but we 
did walk down the side of the dune which was really like skiing. Not slip sliding down it, but each step was about a foot deep in sand and slid a bit til the sand packed down enough to stop the foot. It was quite fun. I thought about hiking up the stairs to do it again, but then thought not. We ventured into the nearby town of Arcachon and walked out onto a pier over the bay to fully absorb the huge beaches and the Atlantic coast. We stopped for a quick coffee break where I royally pissed off an already grumpy waitress by ordering something by saying I didn’t want anything (I don’t know, she heard me wrong, or just assumed what I said, but I didn’t order anything, she thought I did, rudeness by her ensued). Our quick stop at the Atlantic complete, we jumped in the car and headed back east. Five hours later my roommate found stored up sand saved in her pant cuffs. Just a little treasure from a huge dune in France. Happens all the time.
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