Hossegor - A Surfer’s Paradise
We made our way from the Pyrenees to Hossegor, another coastal town just 30 minutes north of Biarritz. Being a world renowned surf destination, we were eager to get a glimpse of the beach. Vaughn had traveled to Hossegor before and had been building up my expectations for weeks prior to our trip, conveying an image of deep sandy beaches and surfable waves stretching out in either direction as far as the eye can see. It sounded made up, too good to be true, every surfer’s dream, and I couldn’t wait to see it for myself. Upon arrival, I immediately noticed how the natural surroundings began to change. I could feel the humidity in the air, lush forest and green hills turned to dense pine forests, and the roads became relatively flat, rising and falling ever so slightly as we made our way to our campgrounds. The beach would have to wait.
A view of Hossegor, France from the beach
We made it to our camping accommodations, complete with a swimming pool, skateboard and bicycle rental, a spa, and a cafe where we sat down for an espresso, when I thought light-heartedly, “This doesn’t feel like camping, this feels like cheating.” We made our way to our lot number and parked on the mulch covered ground underneath the towering pine trees, just long enough to familiarize ourselves with where we’d be settling in later that evening. As soon as we had our bearings, it was time to head back out and do some exploring.
There were two more things to get sorted before we could get in the water: picking up a surfboard and buying wetsuits. We drove over to a huge warehouse store that sold everything you can think of from every surf brand imaginable, including surfboards, wetsuits, skateboards, clothing, and accessories. We bought some wetsuits, plus some other things we didn’t necessarily need, and headed over to Fernand Surfboards, a local shaper who is well known and loved in Hossegor. We had placed the order for this board a few weeks before our trip so I was highly anticipating getting my hands on it. The moment had finally come. I was so happy with it and couldn’t wait to get it in the water.
With our errands done and the sun close to setting, we were finally able to make it to the beach! Most of the beaches exist on the other side of large sand dunes that can rise to over 100 feet in height. Either paved roads or wooden walkways take you up and over the dunes while signs close by warn beach goers to stick to the designated paths and avoid walking on the actual dunes as they are protected areas. We made our way up and over, down the sand on the other side that made up the large beach, and finally felt the cold Atlantic wash over our feet.
This beach was called Plage Naturiste, known for a surf spot called Culs Nus, which literally means “bare bums” because, you guessed it, it’s a nude beach. You might see a bare bum here and there but most people seem to prefer clothing. We spent some time watching the waves and the surfers who started paddling in for the night, feeling pretty excited knowing that would be us tomorrow.
The following few days were a big beautiful blur of sand, sun, waves, food, fresh air, and non-stop fun. Below are some of the most magical moments.
Above and below is a view of Santocha Beach in Capbreton offering a small peeling wave and a grouping of WWII bunkers in the sand.
We ended up at a spot down the beach from Culs Nus and jumped in the water for the first time, trying out our wetsuits. The experience involved cold water, cloudy skies, my first ride on my 5’4’’ fish, the realization that a new wetsuit feels like a straightjacket, getting stuck in a rip current while trying to paddle in and getting pulled towards big scary waves, slightly panicking in said rip current, panic driving me to ask a random French man how to get out of it, finally getting to shore safely, followed by immediately beachcombing for pretty shells in an attempt to look relaxed and surreptitiously lower my heart rate.
I think Vaughn had a much easier time - no surprise there! All in all it was a fantastic day.
Below is a walk over a massive sand dune to Plage des Casernes, bringing us to a rainy sunset.
One beautiful morning we found a tiny peeling wave right off the beach and hardly any people out. This wave called for a bigger board, so a rental was the way to go. After picking up the board, we decided to try jumping in without our wetsuits. Walking into the water, the slope of the sand was almost undetectable, allowing me to walk most of the way out to the break, getting onto my board to paddle the last few feet. The water was chilly but surprisingly tolerable and ultimately refreshing as we kept our blood moving, catching waves in six feet of water and riding them as far as we could, jumping off our boards onto soft sand two feet beneath the surface. These one foot waves and the easy paddle out made for a super fun and relaxing morning together.
We wanted to find another surf spot that was a little more off the beaten path, which would hopefully mean less crowds, or in other words, less surfers to share waves with. We were at a beach called Les Bourdaines, but it was a busy spot, so we scanned down the beach and noticed what looked like a little peeling wave off of a jetty far in the distance at a spot called Le Penon. We couldn’t see anyone in the water so we decided to drive over to a closer beach access to check it out. After parking, we had to walk a little path through the bush that led to the biggest sand dune we’d seen. It was a steep unpaved path of deep sand to the top, and with boards and other beach gear in hand, it was a challenging climb. But oh, was it worth it. Once at the top, we had a clear view of our wave. Yes, OUR wave. Not a soul was on it and it was peeling perfectly down the beach. We ran down, snapped the mediocre photo below, and jumped in for the best session we would have together. We were thankful for the clear blue skies, sunshine, and funsize waves that we had all to ourselves. We surfed until our arms felt like they were going to fall off and the numbness started setting into my hands from the cold as the sun moved closer to the horizon - a sure sign that it was time to call it a day.
After our surf, I felt like the embodiment of pure happiness.
I can’t write this blog post without mentioning the incredible food we had in Hossegor, mainly at a vegan cafe called SLOW, which served a couple of different meal options each day plus a daily assortment of delicious home made pastries. We were there almost every day of our trip and enjoyed many different sweet and savory meals, lattes, and pies. Another great spot that we went to a couple of times was Le Mango Tree which made the best avocado toast I’ve ever had.
There was a day when the waves died and we decided to hit the beach without our boards. It was cool and breezy and the sun felt just the right amount of warm on our skin. I laid in that warmth, raking my hands through the sand and admiring the way it flawlessly resembled brown sugar. We cooled off in the sea and walked the beach while taking in the absolute perfection of everything around us.
One of the most memorable days from our time in Hossegor was the day before our flight out of France. To give some back story, since the waves had died out on the coast, we had driven back to the Pyrenees to do another hike. Around that time, we were keeping an eye on the charts, in particular a huge swell that looked like it was going to hit on the day we needed to drop off our van in Toulouse and make it to our hotel as scheduled, leaving on our flight to Iceland early the next morning. We made the decision to drive the three hours back to Hossegor the night before the big swell so that we could be up bright and early the next morning for Vaughn to get in a couple hours of surf before we had to say our final goodbyes to France.
I awoke to the sound of Vaughn getting up in the dark and leaving the van to check the waves. Upon his return two minutes later, he said, “The waves are huge, I’m gonna head out there.” I sleepily responded with, “Okay, I’ll be out there soon.” He rushed out while I took my time waking up and getting changed. I gathered my camera and extra lens and made my way up the wooden path over the dune at Culs Nus to get my first look, the sun just beginning to rise and peek through the clouds, giving me a clear picture of the sheer size and power of the waves before me.
The waves were washing all the way up the beach, over the waterline that had formed over the past few days, sending foam and creating pools and little rivers of water that couldn’t make it back into the ocean.
I’m not going to lie - standing on the brink of these waves coming in, I was extremely intimidated. It was so much energy and power. Knowing that a few more steps forward could pull me into another world where I would be helpless, any fight in me completely ineffective, was humbling, beautiful, and also a little terrifying to think about. I was more than happy to respectfully observe from afar, pacing the beach taking photos, a slight bit of worry in the back of my mind for my person out in the water. His confidence and desire to surf big waves was the only thing that put me a little more at ease; I knew that this is what he lived for (besides me of course). It was the only thing that kept me from calling out to him in a panic, “NOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE YOU’RE GONNA DIE!” Instead I was like, “He’s good he’s good,” while quietly quivering in my imaginary boots.
Searching for him out in the mess of waves and white water before me, I finally saw him on a wave.
The below photo really demonstrates the immense magnitude of the waves that morning. If you look closely, you can see Vaughn in the middle of the wave about to paddle over the top of it right before it breaks. That’s a big NOPE for me. Hopefully one day it will be a YES when my confidence in my surf capabilities is at an all time high.
And then Vaughn’s pants ripped… I’m telling you these waves were no joke. Nonetheless he ran in breathless and smiling, back to the van for a quick change.
Looking left toward the main part of Hossegor, you can faintly see the mountains of Spain in the background.
Many surfers were getting towed out to the break by jet skis to avoid the tough and tiring paddle out. This definitely took some serious skill on the driver’s part to make it out safely.
He’s back. Pants changed. Now to find the right spot to paddle out from.
In between sets could look like the below photo, signaling the time to paddle out.
The current was ripping so you really had to go on anything good that came your way once you got out there. The guys who got pulled out on jet skis clearly had the advantage as they were able to stay in place for the best part of the break, catching some of the biggest and cleanest waves that came through.
But Vaughn was determined so he got some amazing waves, too, including a barrel!
The wave below is noteworthy as it had a really tricky drop from the top and it almost looked like he wasn’t going to make it…
But he did. A wave to remember for sure.
It was a good note to end on, this impromptu morning of huge surf. Vaughn came in all smiles, thankful that it turned out to be as good as it was, making the drive totally worth it. It was a blast to watch on my part as well. Feeling energized and in good spirits, he hopped back in our van and made our way to Toulouse where we would part ways with our campervan, nearing the end of our time in France.
The memories we made in Hossegor are some that I will treasure forever. The people were friendly, the surroundings were spectacular, the surfing was ideal for both beginners and advanced, and the food was to die for. It’s a place I would love to go back to someday.
