Travelogue, France and Spain, 2018

     We were staying at Le Regina Hotel, Biarritz, France, on the Atlantic. Each day we walked down the hillside from our location near the lighthouse to the beach, which lay beneath tiers of stone steps. The sand was wide and the surf cold. Wetsuits on boards dotted the waves. Elderly couples, young lovers, and skateboarders shared the wide promenade. At the far end was the casino. Around the curve we sat for wine and seafood in a marina. Needless to say, we got grimy and our clothes were limp with weather that began in misty fog in the morning and rose to mid-eighties in the afternoon.
     When we got back to the hotel after walking, I wanted to use my trusty detergent packets from my suitcase to wash our tees. Our sculptured white elliptical Bosch sink had a depth of maybe three inches total. It was so shallow at the lip we couldn't knock our toothbrushes to get the water out without the bristles hitting the side of the sink. I looked for a stopper in order to get a sink full of suds. Couldn't find one.
     I called Housekeeping and since the person on the other end spoke only French, she sent her Supervisor. The woman came slightly out of breath from her immediate trot to our room. She ran the water at full blast and pronounced, "Non problema" - a standard response in Italy, but we hadn't heard it before in France.
     With hand gestures Charley and I pushed in a downward motion at the site of the phantom stopper to show her there was no way to keep any water in the sculpture. Prongs protruded upward from the hole. As our meaning became clear, the woman made another pronouncement. "Non, c'est impossible!" Another beautiful French object that was nonfunctional, just like itsy-bitsy Parisian hotel rooms and their toilets with the flush button on the wall behind your head, which a woman can hit only if she is a contortionist. Or the "green" movement in France that prohibits bags of any kind from being distributed for purchases but crams toilet paper rolls into the dispenser so tight that scraps float like amoebas across women's stalls displaying fingernail gouges where users tried to dislodge a few sheets.
     Our Supervisor of Housekeeping motioned in sign language she would bring up a tub for our tees.Which she did.
     The plastic tub must have been used to dye something brown before we got it, because a rich chocolate color sat within the corners. Since it didn't yield to my scrubbing, I went ahead and submerged our shirts.
     After a few hours outside the room, I came back to fish out our tees. They had turned a warm, earthy brown.

Staircases leading to beach, Biarritz, France

Promenade looking toward Napoleon's Hotel deVille, Biarritz, France

Beachfront, Biarritz, France

Promendade looking toward casino, Biarritz, France

Cold Atlantic Ocean, Biarritz, France

Marina beneath Cathedral, Biarritz, France

Fish selection  in marina, Biarritz, France

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     As a security measure in France and Spain, a traveler may have to wave a plastic electronic room key in front of a digital pad on an elevator. After he does this, he must touch the floor number in order to ascend. The cage won't move until this sequence happens. However, in the Hotel Maria Cristina in San Sebastian, Spain, wide carpeted staircases wound upward right next to the elevators, open to the public without security of any type. Go figure!?

Front entrance, Hotel Maria Cristina, San Sebastian, Spain

                                                                     To be continued.........