France is famous for its generous time off policies — the average worker is entitled to 30 paid days off per year. And so many French people take an entire month off in the summer, referring to themselves as either juilletistes if they do it in July or aoûtiens if August is their month to escape.
It feels like there was a mass exodus of Bordeaux when July hit, and parts of the city became much more quiet than usual, including our neighborhood. I don’t blame people for leaving — it’s not the most pleasant place to be when it starts heating up. The stone buildings and lack of trees can make it feel like an oven here, and air conditioning isn’t guaranteed, even in public places like shops and restaurants. Our own apartment has been extremely uncomfortable on the hotter days. I’ve heard French people say that it’s fine if you simply open the windows to air out in the cooler mornings and then close the shutters/blinds to the heat of the sun, but I have not found that to be true. Luckily, we haven’t had too many hot days yet — but those days over 90 degrees have been brutal.
I sometimes pity the tourists that I see trudging around town, sweating in the summer sun. I want to tell them that this really isn’t the best time to visit Bordeaux. But then again, we visited in the summer, and we loved it anyway. It definitely helps if you have an air-conditioned place to retreat in the hotter parts of the day.
Thankfully, this year we can call ourselves juilletistes and aoûtiens. Determined to make the most of our European summer, we’ve already taken trips to England (pictured above, outside of Bath) and Spain (pictured below) in July, and we’ll be spending half of August in Provence. Still hot, but with a pool.
England felt like a breath of fresh air after seven months in France. It was so nice to speak English after struggling with the language day in and day out for so long — everything felt so easy! The weather was almost autumnal as we bopped around London and Bath, and truthfully I wasn’t ready to go back to Bordeaux when we did. A few days later, we were off again to Bilbao, Spain to meet up with Todd’s old Spanish professor who was hosting a study abroad program at the university there. A native of the city, he took us around to some favorite spots for pintxos, small plates of food that are typical of Spanish Basque country. We then visited San Sebastian for a few nights before returning to steamy Bordeaux.
Most of Oli’s friends will be gone for majority of the summer, visiting grandparents in the countryside or along the coast. This seems to be typical for French kids, at least the ones we’ve met. It also doesn’t seem uncommon for families to have second homes or family homes outside of the city where they spend weeks at a time. We were excited to get an invitation to the family beach house of one of Oli’s classmates this week.
Their house is a sprawling Arcachonnais-style cottage that’s been in the family for generations. It’s rustic yet cozy and comfortable, filled with antiques and artwork, with a wraparound porch where we gathered for apero (Aperol spritz and pâté on bread) after the beach and, later on, a simple dinner of ratatouille over couscous with wine from their family’s vineyard.
It’s two blocks from a very local-feeling beach on Arcachon Bay, with views over the Dune du Pilat, Europe’s tallest sand dune, and Cap Ferret, which recently got a write-up in the New York Times. The beach felt so peaceful compared to American beaches — no one was blasting loud music or yelling. No elaborate setups, either — just towels on the sand and maybe a few simple snacks for gouter at around 4 p.m. (we had madeleines and apricots washed in the sea). I didn’t see anyone drinking alcohol, unlike in the U.S., where being at the beach seems to be an excuse for crushing a case of beer or hard seltzer. And I didn’t see a single obese person. I did however see several topless ladies, most over the age of 60, enjoying the freedom of sunning themselves without fear of tan lines. No one gave them a second glance, even though most women on the beach were wearing typical bathing suits.
Although the Olympics are happening far away in Paris, the excitement of the games has spread throughout France. We watched the opening ceremonies on TV along with the rest of the country, and it was fun to hear our neighbors watching, too (and responding to some of the most exciting/controversial/confusing moments). Todd and Oli went to a few of the Olympics soccer (ahem, football) games here in Bordeaux, but I opted to sit them out since it was during one of the more severe heat waves. We also have a couple of little “Olympic villages” here in the city where we can watch the games on the big screen and kids can play. It’s a fun, celebratory vibe.
It’s hard to believe it’s already August. We have a week booked at a gite on the outskirts of Avignon followed by a few days in Marseille and Cassis. I’m already dreading returning to the stuffy apartment, and looking at cheap Airbnbs where we could escape — maybe a cabin in the Pyrenees or a cottage on the Ile de Re. Our travel budget is beyond shot at this point, but I’m not sure if we’ll ever have a summer in Europe like this again, where we can just hop in a car and be somewhere extraordinary after a quick drive. I tell myself that we need to take full advantage, and we can live off of rice and beans (or 1€ baguettes) when the summer is over.