Across Borders in the Eye of the Storm, From France to Portugal

From Saubrigues we decide to spend the night at Labenne. Nestled along the Landes coast in south-west France, Labenne is known for its long sandy beaches, pine forests, and relaxed surf-town feel. In summer it’s lively and welcoming, with beach bars, cycle paths through the woods, and families making the most of the Atlantic sunshine.

But this is our first time here in winter and it feels like an entirely different world. Everything is closed. Shutters down, campsites quiet, restaurants dark. The only thing truly alive is the sea. The Atlantic is wild and restless, waves crashing hard against the shore, driven by strong coastal winds that sweep in unhindered. It’s dramatic and strangely beautiful, but not exactly inviting. After a bracing walk along the deserted beachfront, we retreat back to the van for the night.

With the weather conditions continuing, we decide to head for Spain. Unfortunately, the rain in Spain doesn’t just fall on the plain as the saying goes….it rains everywhere!! The further south we drive, the heavier it becomes, low clouds hanging over the landscape and water pooling across the roads.

We aim for San Sebastián, or Donostia as it’s known in the Basque language. It’s a city famed for its elegance, incredible food scene, and sweeping crescent-shaped bay. On a clear day, La Concha Beach is often described as one of Europe’s most beautiful urban beaches, framed by green hills and Belle Époque architecture.

With Spain in his mind and cheaper fuel prices ahead, John decides to wait until we cross the border before filling up with diesel. It seems sensible at first… until the diesel light starts to beep. Suddenly, it’s not just the weather that’s causing concern! As the rain lashes down, we watch the fuel gauge far more than the scenery. Thankfully, we come across a fuel station just in time—calm (and diesel) is restored.

From there, we follow the AP-1 out of Vitoria-Gasteiz the capital of the Basque Country. Known for its medieval old town and green spaces, it’s a city that often wins awards for sustainability and quality of life.

On this stretch of the journey, we see several roadblocks and multiple cars pulled over by the Guarda Civil. Their presence is noticeable, flashing lights reflecting off wet tarmac. We’re waved through without issue, but it adds another layer of tension to an already challenging drive.

We make one more stop before heading into Portugal, in Villares de la Reina, just outside the historic city of Salamanca. It’s a fairly ordinary Spanish town, practical and residential, the sort of place travellers pass through rather than linger. Yet even here, we experience something unforgettable.

At a small supermarket, we witness shoplifting on a completely different scale. A lady confronts a man who has only paid for a single can of beer. Calm but firm, she asks him to empty his rucksack. What follows is astonishing it’s like Mary Poppins’ bag. Groceries, toiletries, item after item just keep appearing. The pile grows and grows while the rest of us watch in disbelief.

Back on the road, we’re being blown across it by fierce gusts and dodging potholes now filled to the brim with torrential rainwater. The Spanish countryside normally wide, open, and golden—looks dark and saturated, fields heavy with water. We make a quick supermarket stop for essentials before heading to the small campsite we’ve stayed at before in Sao Joao de Areias.

São João de Areias is a quiet rural village in central Portugal, surrounded by rolling hills, olive groves, and eucalyptus trees. It’s peaceful, traditional, and far removed from the busy coastal resorts. The campsite is small and simple, but familiar and after such a testing week, familiarity feels like luxury.

We plan to stay here for the next five days, hoping the weather finally improves. The last week has been horrendous, with many sites either inaccessible or with no services working. Winter touring certainly shows a different side of van life less postcard sunsets and more resilience, patience, and adaptability.

Still, despite the storms, the fuel scare, the roadblocks, and the relentless rain, each mile feels earned. And perhaps that’s part of the adventure too seeing these places not just at their best, but in their wildest moods.

It’s a blustery walk to see the sea in Labenne

As the Hélio-Marin centre brought families to the coast for pioneering treatments using sunlight and ocean air, this chapel watched over a growing seaside community finding both health and happiness.