A further 8 hours after midnight and Paris [and €180 in LPG and Tolls] we finally arrived in Biarritz, to sleeping friends and no accomodation. We spoke to the people at the front desk and they said that they would reserve us a site once someone left, and it turned out they kicked out an Aussie and Kiwi for being too noisy so we got their spot.
We got our tents set up and the others had arisen, [Luke and Viola, Chris and Maud had been there since the Friday night] so it was time for a swim. We got to the beach and it absolutely packed, you couldnt move, there was about 500-750 people swimming between flags that were about 20m apart, it was just insane. We hit the water and it was like heaven, the feeling of salt water again after this past month of New York then European summer with no beaches close by was just incredible.
Soon Chris, Luke, Viola and Maud started surfing lessons while Roy, Guus and I just watched. After a while in the water we got out and were watching the others on the beach while the guy prepped them with how to paddle and then finally stand up. Once they hit the water we stayed on the beach and then took a couple of pics, soon again it was too much so I swam out and sat out behind them talking and helping them out when I heard this whistle. I didnt take much notice of it, thinking it could be for me because I wasnt in any danger or trouble. I looked around to see who it was for, and yes, it was me. I wasnt too impressed after growing up near the beach my whole life so just kept on swimming and helping out. Next thing I knew the guy was waste depth in water still blowing his whistle and yelling in French at me and then another surfing instructor came out and started yelling in French too, something of which I couldnt help but laugh at because he was exerting so much effort and I had no idea what he was talking about. I finished laughing and told him I had no idea what he was saying and he started yelling in English, I've never heard an angry French man before so it was something else to laugh about as he tried to yell at me and got more and more frustrated as he struggled.
Finally I told him that I'd grown up by the beach and was fine and just helping out some friends who were learning to surf but he didnt let up and neither did his mate with the whistle, he was still whistling away in the water. Sick of the whistle I gave him the finger and a sign showing I was just talking [clapping my thumb onto my fingers like a mouth movement]. He didnt take it as I was talking but that I was saying he was just blabbing on so he came out and yelled at me [in French again, hehe] and then English and threatened to fine me if I didnt get in between the flags. The funniest part is that I nearly made a crack about him being the beach police, and he actually was, he had a t-shirt that said "Beach Police" and everything.. Stupid French bastard..
Once he left, I sat right on the edge of the flags swimming and just being vindictive and still talking to the others as they got their lesson. Once the lesson finished, we all went back to shore and relaxed in the sun for a bit.
The evening consisted of dinner at a restaurant in town and then back to the campsite for a few beers and an early night.