Hossegor Was Cooking Without An Eastern European In Sight

The French call it automne.

That golden season when Berlin’s Berghain line grows longer as Southwest France empties out, leaving behind slightly calmer lineups and a sudden surplus of baguettes. 

It’s when the Bay of Biscay transforms from a tepid lake into something that finally lives up to its tempestuous reputation, sending dreamy peaks to the endless stretch of beachies along Les Landes.

Gone are the striped umbrellas and coconut-scented tourists roasting on the sand. As locals reclaim their beaches, it would be remiss not to consider the waves as the main characters.

Both backdrop and spotlight, the waves set the stage for an Olympic gold medalist, a pair of former CTers — Jeremy Flores and Miki Picon for the uninitiated — and a host of unsung yet assiduous locals in a FOMO-inducing tube festival.

You’ll likely hear tales of these “best-evers” a dozen more times before the traveling hordes reclaim their place in the sand next summer.

Here’s one of those.