After a lovely sleep-in, we took a taxi to the Avis car rental depot (a shipping container near the train station), hired our car and flew out of Bordeau and headed for Biarritz. Soon after lunch we reached our destination. First impressions were a disappointing – the GPS guided us to a building site next to the motorway. Surely this couldn’t be it? Luckily it wasn’t! We ended up pulling up outside a very bland looking three story building and walked up to the front door to discovered it was closed (it was Sunday). Another resident let us into the building and Chris and I sat down to puzzle out what we were supposed to do! We examined the paper work I had printed out in Melbourne but there was no mention of what to do if the reception was closed. We rang the number provided several times but could not decipher the French message. What to do? What to do? Eventually I consulted the booking.com app on my phone and with great relief discover that the office was closed on a Sunday afternoon but reopened again at 5.00pm. Quelle relief! 
So we strolled through this beautiful town and looked at the amazing beach – sort of Great Ocean Road meets Mooloolaba meets France! The shops were mostly closed, it was cold and raining. We hadn’t had a great start – it all began to impact on our perceptions of Biarritz. We werent sure if we liked it and that was a surprise to us! 
Eventually we made our way back to our apartment and found the reception open (hurray) only to discover that they did not have our booking. There followed a worried phone call in French to some unknown decision maker at the other end, followed by a reassurance that they did have one room left and we could have it even though we didn’t have a booking. Hurray (I think!). However, the room was not what we had been expecting. Being the last room, it was small, it was cramped and the windows looked right into another building. Chris tried to get our rooms changed but it was the last room and so no luck! Feeling somewhat dejected we tried to settle into the rooms. I saw a sheet of paper instructing me to take a count of every single item in the apartment (there were 16 coat hangers, 4 bowls etc) and let them know immediately if any items were missing – I kid you not! It was too depressing – time for dinner! We ended up having a good dinner in a sad looking, saggy, seen much better days, restaurant overlooking the beach. It was merry and after such a fun meal we strolled home to our apartment to discover that I actually needed to make all the beds before we could get into them. A hotel review was beginning to form in my mind “Do you enjoy making up four beds at 10 o’clock at night? Do you like to count all the coat hangers and plates and cups and saucepans in the cupboards when you arrive for your holidays? Well this the apartment for you!” 
We finally piled into bed and settled in for a poor nights sleep on a hard mattress and slept fitfully until awoken by a phone call in the morning. It was reception. They needed to see us immediately. Chris and I pulled on some clothes and stumbled sleepily downstairs to greet the receptionist (yes it was open!) who informed us that the booking.com booking had been cancelled because there was a problem with our credit card. Feeling somewhat dubious we stated that we needed to double that – but on the way back up the stairs we saw our opportunity – no booking meant we could leave right now!!! We flew back up the stairs, threw all our belongings into the suitcases, stripped the beds, washed the glasses we had used, grabbed the rubbish bag under the sink and threw it into Nick’s suitcase (of course you had to take your rubbish with you in this place!) and presented ourselves downstairs to check out! There followed the inevitable disagreement – “our booking was for two nights”, “no it wasn’t – there was no booking”, “yes there was”, blah blah blah. In the end I said, “I know you have rules that no one stays for one night but please make an exception for us because we have had such a poor experience staying here”. That seemed to get through and soon we were paid up, out of the apartment and then 500 meters down the road and comfortably settled into the lovely Hotel Windsor with soft European pillows, friendly staff and a sea view. 
We were feeling much better about Biarritz already. The rain had cleared, the sun was coming out, the wind was still cold, but the beauty of Biarritz was beginning to reveal itself to us. 

There followed a couple of days of long walks along the beach, discovering a Virgin Mary statue out on a point, walks along winding old streets coming across familiar shops like Quicksilver and Ripcurl (Biarritz is a surfing Mecca). 

Of course Biarritz is famous as a hangout for the rich and famous, but we found that a lot of its beauty was fading (not the beach of course but all of the buildings around it have a kind of crumbling air about them). The town is inhabited almost exclusively by old people – apparently the young cannot afford to live there – who dress beautifully and hang out in an old tea shop overlooking the beach. Everyday Biarritz grew on us more and more – our French Positano.