From just west of the French city of Bordeaux to just north of the Spanish city of Bilbao curls the Atlantic Ocean coastline. Here, a right-angled bend in land mass defines a corner of the windswept and often stormy Bay of Biscay. Cities have thrived here for centuries, economically based on fishing and agriculture as well as on hospitality—whether for weekend escapees from inland towns, or for holiday jaunts for aristocracy. These cities include Biarritz in France and San Sebastian (also known as Donostia) in Spain. A smaller French coastal city between these two is Saint-Jean-de-Luz (known as Donibane Lohizune in the Basque language). This is located south of Biarritz and a 20-minute drive north of the French/Spanish border.

‘Luz’ means ‘light’ in Spanish, but the etymology of this city name is more practical than inspirational. It traces to the Basque Euskara language, and originates from the word ‘swamp,’ because Saint-Jean-de-Luz sits adjacent to wetlands at the mouth of the Nivelle River.

The Basque are renowned as hardy people of somewhat mysterious origin. The roots of their language are controversial and difficult to ascertain. They have dwelled in what is now the northwest of Spain and the southwest of France for millennia. Five centuries ago, Basque men rowed across the Atlantic to fish for cod off what is now the coast of Newfoundland. Historically, this group of tribes were renowned as being fiercely protective of territory; Roman armies never fully dominated their mountain/coastal terrain.

In June of the year 1660, after moving his entire court from Versailles to reside in Saint-Jean-de-Luz for over a month, King Louis XIV of France married princess María-Teresa from Spain. The event consolidated the Treaty of the Pyrenees, signed a year earlier between French and Spanish leaders to end war between the countries. In return for hosting the event, Saint-Jean-de-Luz was supposedly provided tax reductions for three decades.

To visit the city—arrive by boat, car or train and spend a day or two in this relatively small, pedestrian-friendly haven. There are ample bicycle trails and walkways, as well as plenty of picnic locations in parks or on coastal bluffs, where local families out walking will often offer smiles and warm greetings. Behind Saint-Jean-de-Luz, almost a four-hour hike away (or you can take a train from Col de Saint-Ignace) is the often cloud covered, but gracefully attractive peak of La Rhune.

Whipped by fresh winds and including views of sleek sailboats crisscrossing the harbor, Saint-Jean-de-Luz is a cultural nexus. Residents appear generally open minded and optimistic—a trait bolstered from centuries of their receiving short term visitors. The city includes small public squares covered by tree foliage, as well as angled and cobbled walkways. Historical placards include photographs and explain the history of the city and its people (placards are in French; a small booklet with English translations is available at most hotels, or from the tourist office).

It’s difficult to get lost in a small town bordered by the ocean, so it’s rewarding just to wander. Enter Les Halles, the inner marketplace across from the tourist office, where you can buy meat such as boudin Basque or saucisse Basque, or peer at seafood such as whiting (merlan), shrimp or salmon attractively laid out at the fish market (poissonnerie). Local foods are delicious—whether sweet cherry cake known as gateau Basque cerise, or fresh tortilla cakes made from ingredients that may include ham and mushrooms. At stores in the city center you can find Bayonne ham flavored with the local spice piment d’espelette, or chocolate almond feuilleté from Maison Etchebaster bakery, or pata negra—delicious Spanish ham from free range pigs raised on a diet of acorns. If the weather is warm and your interests are so inclined, book a lesson with the Txingudi surf school.

Until the 17th century, it was not just natural beauty that conferred renown to this city. Three factors contributed to its strong economy. In the year 1474, King Louis XIth conferred duty free status to Saint-Jean-de-Luz for goods that arrived via land or sea. Second, whaling and cod fishing provided steady streams of income. Third, corsairs—or state approved and sanctioned pirates who only plundered ships of enemy countries, such as Spain and England—flourished, and divvied their spoils with the king and admiralty. Their reputation resulted in English sailors calling this port city a ‘nest of vipers.’ These factors of tax benefits, whaling and fishing and corsair activity resulted in Saint-Jean-de-Luz becoming a wealthy, privileged city. Yet beginning in the second half of the 17^th century, the ocean basically thrashed the city’s fortunes.

Walk half an hour north of the city center, along the coastline, to a point known as Pointe-de-Sainte-Barbe. The trip is easy and ends on a grassy hill with an optimal view of the natural crescent shaped harbor of Saint-Jean-de-Luz. From here you can see ocean, beaches and stone defense walls—located in the sea—that were built to break the fury of rogue Biscay waves.

Until the erection of these stone engineering defenses, the city was repeatedly destroyed by turbulent Atlantic storms. This threat increased due to natural erosion, especially after the year 1670 (or a decade after Louis XIV and his bride wed).

In 1749, seven houses were destroyed by ocean waves, and 180 dwellings were abandoned. Although dikes and protective barriers were erected, in 1782 storms and waves again destroyed 40 houses and wiped out the neighborhood of ‘Là Barre,’ also wrecking the convent of Ursulines. The port entrance was ruined and two-thirds of inhabitants moved out of the city during the next quarter century.

In 1822 an eight-day storm washed away a quarter of the town.

In 1854 Napoleon III ordered three serious stone fortifications built to defend the town, and the work began a decade later. Construction of just one of these walls within the harbor took 30 years and included 8,000 blocks, many weighing some 50 tonnes.

This taming of ocean destruction reduced the outflow of inhabitants. In 1870, the town council decided to redevelop much of the city, building a covered market and Rue Gambetta—the only street to cross town. In 1910—avid automobile racers in the Touring Club of France successfully lobbied for Boulevard Victor Hugo to be connected to Route de Bayonne to facilitate car races between the cities of Biarritz and San Sebastien.

One result of nipping the destructive power of ocean waves and increasing safety in the city was that foreigners and French tourists began flooding in to visit, and to purchase vacation homes. In 1880 this town included some 3,000 inhabitants, and counted 2,950 visitors—mostly English, Spaniards and French. The Hotel de la Plage—beach hotel—had 140 rooms and an ‘English club.’ Both a ‘grand’ and a separate ‘petit’ casino opened on Thiers boulevard.

This era of Covid-19 includes a national curfew throughout France, which was modified this month from beginning at 6:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. At present, most visitors to Saint-Jean-de-Luz are French and Spanish. Apprehensive about another possible lockdown, visitors flood into the city during weekends—despite all restaurants, cafes and bars being closed except for takeaway service. The resulting atmosphere appears both healthy and vibrant; before curfew, most visitors and residents spend free hours walking, bicycling and exploring, rather than sitting on restaurant porches eating and drinking. Their faces generally appear wind whipped and vigorous, and despite restrictions, glow with optimism. This enthusiasm for physical exercise in natural spaces abounds here in Basque country. It will continue after restrictions are eased. Saint-Jean-de-Luz includes excellent food, natural beauty and cultural history, but also satisfies all of those who appreciate exploring coastlines, beaches and peaks.

For both mind and body, Saint-Jean-de-Luz offers a healthy locale when you can travel again, and reassess priorities.