We have returned to Hossegor for two reasons. Firstly for the simple fact that we liked it the first time around, and secondly because the swell charts forcast a solid swell to hit in a couple of days. Our first few days were spent at the beach enjoying glorious sunshine and temps in the high 20’s. Small waves kept me and my 250 mates I was surfing with occupied and there was plenty to look at on the beach as well. From large groups learning to surf getting smashed in the shore break, topless women everywhere, large European men in (too) small speedos, and dogs everywhere.
One dog in particular caught my attention as I was paddling across the channel to the beach, because he was out there with me, franticly paddling against the current heading out to sea. He appeared to be a good swimmer but had been battling this rip for some time and looked to be struggling a bit. I paddled over to him and grabbed him by the collar and dragged him ashore. Once back on firm ground he seemed relieved and thankful for the help. No worries mate! Funny thing was, less than 10 minutes later he was back out there, but this time had gone up the beach further to avoid the rip and had made it out the back to the outer sandbank and was trying to catch waves. Seriously, he was paddling to try to catch waves and doggy surf them then paddling back out the back again
Monday the weather turned grey and cool, and the swell went from dead flat at 6 am to ten foot plus within 4 hours. The swell had arrived, and with it 40 knot onshores to create a massive washing machine breaking 500 metres out to sea. We spent the next few days cruising around the area, found a café with Wifi so we skyped Mum for her birthday and Shane and Kate (Abu Dhabi) and caught up with the worlds news. We also found a street market in the main street of Seignosse, the town right near our campsite.
Our campsite had changed a lot since our last visit. We were one of about 6 or so tents in the hole place the last time and there was only 3 staff members. Now the shop, bakery, pub, and kids club had opened, there was about 20 staff, and the campsite was packed. We were camped next to a German couple who spoke a little English so we could have short simple conversations with, and another German bloke named Alex who spoke great English and surfed. He was camping in his 1982 Ford van that he had decked out with three sunroofs and a DVD player and LCD screen that drops down from the roof.
Mandy has taken to the French language with her own interpretations. A town to the north of us is called Vieux Boucau (pronounced Voo Backoo) but has now been renamed Vox Becow thanks to Mandy’s Aussiefication of it. ( Aussiefication is a word I just made up and encourage all Aussies to use freely).
The swell cleaned up but the banks had been destroyed after the swell of the previous days, so it was time to move on, towards the east and away from the temperamental Atlantic Ocean. Our friends Lozza and Seb awaited us in Luchon in the Pyrenees Mountains, about 3 hours drive away.
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