L'Eau de Mer

While playing in the waters off of Wrightsville Beach, a friend once said to me, “I feel like you were born a mermaid out here at sea.”

Her words stuck with me because I've found so much peace in salt water.  Living beside the ocean was such a gift, and in this new stage, I have truly missed being just minutes from the shore.


The water may no longer be in my backyard, but even here in Bordeaux, I am not far from the Atlantic.  Typing at my kitchen table, I am less than an hour’s drive or train ride from the nearest beach—an easy day trip.

I'm ashamed to admit; however, that between the dreary weather and the long to-do list of establishing myself in this new city, it took me over a month to get my no-longer-salty toes to the ocean.  Once I finally got there though, the views did not disappoint.  I had no idea a beach could be as beautiful as the ones I’ve seen here.

Early Friday morning three of my colleagues and I dragged our sleepy heads to the train station and headed off to Arcachon.  With easy access for visitors from Bordeaux, it's become quite the touristic little beach town.

We were pampered in a café as we ate our second breakfast of crêpes and espresso paired with freshly squeezed orange juice right along the sandy beach.  Having arrived early enough, we had the joy of watching the early risers walk along the shore, uninterrupted by the afternoon crowds.

Arcachon sits on the tip of a sheltered piece of coast around the Arcachon Bay on the southwestern coast of France. From there, we hopped on a bus past the bay and further south  to Dune du Pilat.  

Before that day, I’d heard rumors of this odd wonder, the largest dune in Europe, but I had no concept of its majesty.  After leaving the bus and walking through the woods, we arrived midway between the coast and the peak of a dune that is 360ft tall and over 1.5 miles long. We clambered and slid along the sand trying to reach the top, until we finally got a glimpse of the pure wide open ocean.

Standing up there, I couldn’t believe that I'm alive in a time and place where such a scene exists.  I felt so inexplicably and beautifully small.

It was a wide scope of endless sky-sea-blue only disturbed by a line of untouched barrier islands that made my heart melt.  Looking to the south, the peak of the dune winding along the shore transported us to desert of the Sahara.

In that moment, I wondered why France is known across the world for the Eiffel Tower. Believe me when I say this sight is the pearl of France.

Before leaving and before the fog rolled in, I fumbled and ran down the cliff, all 360 feet of altitude, until I stopped on the shore, threw off my backpack, and dove into the chilly waters.  I was finally at home in the same sea that touches the shore of my Wrightsville Beach.  Right then, it felt like home wasn’t so far away.

Our day trip certainly filled my soul and skin for the mere thirst of salt water, but it only fueled my desire to surf along this côte francaise.  This past weekend I committed to finding myself on a board in the waves, no matter the cost.  Thankfully a friend offered to lend me a board and gave me a ride to the waves.  It was truly the sweetest gift. 

We spent the day at Lacanau, a bit further north from Arcachon and I invested some time in regaining respect for the power of the ocean.  I didn’t catch a single wave, but there was peace all through my soul, and I was so grateful to be out there on a board again.  

After our session, we sat on the beach strumming some tunes and drinking a beer while we watched the sun go down over the water.  I continue to look around at my surroundings, at this gift from the Lord and wonder why I am so fortunate.  C’est la vie.