What they do there, what they think of, or what food is
brought into their curious grinding-mills by the Atlantic surges
which thunder over them twice a day, who can tell? However they
form, without doubt, the most beautiful object which I have ever seen
in pool or cove.
But the glory of Biarritz, after all, is the moors above, and the
view to be seen therefrom. Under blazing blue skies, tempered by
soft dappled cloud, for ever sliding from the Atlantic and the
Asturias mountains, in a climate soft as milk, and exhilarating
withal as wine, one sees far and wide a panorama which, from its
variety as well as its beauty, can never weary.
To the north, the long sand-line of the Biscayan shore--the bar of
the Adour marked by a cloud of grey spray. Then the dark pine-flats
of the Landes, and the towers of Bayonne rising through rich woods.
To the eastward lies a high country, furred with woods, broken with
glens; a country exactly like Devon, through the heart of which,
hidden in such a gorge as that of Dart or Taw, runs the swift stream
of the Nive, draining the western Pyrenees.
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