Crikey, that’s a big one!
I posted a picture a few days back of sand dunes, but they were mere sand castles compared to the sand mountain of today. Europe’s largest sand dune, averaging 100 to 115 metres tall (not the 134 as quoted the other day) but still mightily impressive.
After yet another typically lazy start, a short drive down the coast punctuated by an unsuccessful shopping trip (shoes – me – and tool bag – Mel) and a chance to top up on LPG and Diesel, we finally got to the Dune in time for lunch. Suitably fuelled, the assault on the Dune commenced.
You approach from the land side, which is the steeper, but already you are part way up so probably only 50 metres of climb. It was definitely a shoes off, trousers up job, as the sand is slithery stuff, especially on such a gradient. We romped past the other lard arses flapping around like beached whales, I even managed to break into a run for part of it, although I wasn’t going to maintain that all the way up (much as I’d have liked).
Once on the top, you can, and we did, walk the 2.5 kms from one end to the other. It’s fascinating watching the sands shifting around, although today they seemed determined to head back out to sea, with an easterly breeze. Pushing small amounts off the crest you create virtual liquid rivers of sand that stream down the other side. More pictures of the patterns created in the next post.
We then walked down the far end to the beach, and back along said breach with waves lapping at our naked feet, all soft and foamy (the sea, not our feet). And then of course in order to get back to the van, we have to climb pretty much the full 100 metres back to the crest and then back down the other side. Our successful return was rewarded with a nice ‘duex boule café glace’ whilst walking, still naked footed, through the woods back to the home on wheels.