Just 60 miles southeast of Toulouse is the picturesque hilltop village of Carcassonne. I love old fortified cities and Carcassonne is absolutely one of the best!
Carcassonne has dominated this hilltop since the New Stone Age which began about 12,000 years ago when the first farming of domestic crops and a domestication of animals began. Also referred to as the Neolithic period, the era lasted in Europe until about 1700 BC.
The jagged peaks of the Pyrenees, just a few miles to the south, are covered in snow. The view, as our train approaches Lourdes, is spectacular. I expect cold.
Jumping back on the Euskotren, we return to the Basque stronghold of Donostia, or San Sebastián as we call this fabulous city curling around the Bay of Biscay. With the Pyrenees Mountains to the east, tree-covered Mount Urgull and Mount Igueldo hugging either side of the bay, pristine beaches and a plethora of Pintxos, what’s not to love?
Traversing the southwestern region of France and getting to my destination in Spain taught me a new lesson: train travel in Europe is not perfect. I found it convoluted and less than direct to get from Bayonne, France through San Sebastián and on to the Basque city of Bilbao. Distances are not that much but there seems to be no easy, direct public transport. And, add to that an unannounced SNCF strike, cancelled trains and late TVGs, we pretty much have a long, ugly transportation day ahead.
Aboard Euskotren to Bilbao
We travel by a TGV train from Bayonne, past Biarritz south to the border at Hendaye. There, a blue Euskotren metro will take us to the Amara station in San Sebastián. Because I would like to proceed on to Bilbao, we connect with another Euskotren to Bilbao’s Zazpikaleak station. Making it more palatable is the scenery of mountains both low and tall, deep ravines, rocky streams, trees beginning to show fall colors, glimpses of blue bays, and countless charming family gardens. More than eight hours and about 110 miles later, we arrive in Bilbao.
It is a pleasant, slightly misty, train ride through southwestern France. We arrive in Bayonne, a smallish city situated where the rivers Nive from the south and the wider Adour from the Atlantic meet. Just above the train station are the remains of the historic citadel, our hotel is just across the street. We have entered Basque country and look forward to local cuisine.
About twenty miles north on the “Left Bank” of the Dordogne and Gironde Rivers, I learn my first lesson in French wines. It is pretty much “crickets” around here in mid-October. My first destination should not be a chateau but a tourism office.
