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A short walk from the Cap Ferret lighthouse, in a low timber building shaped like the peninsula's oyster huts. Inside, the owners channelled the beach houses of California and Hawaii, pale wood and woven hammocks in the courtyard.
Hôtel des Dunes is a small hotel at the southern tip of the Cap Ferret peninsula, a half block from the dunes and close to the red-and-white lighthouse that marks the end of the land. The building takes its shape from the oyster huts that line this coast, low and timber-clad, and a full refurbishment reworked the inside in the manner of a Californian beach house. The thirteen rooms and suites, named for the sun, Sunrise, Sunshine Terrace, Sunset, are turned toward the light and the water, most with a balcony and a memory-foam bed.
Inside, there is a lot of jute and raffia, white woven hammocks strung across the central courtyard, and a spare scattering of 1960s and 70s Vallauris pottery. The owners, Karine and Jean-Philippe, drew on the surf lodges and beach houses they knew in California and Hawaii, then pared the result back. There are no televisions. Water comes in glass bottles that get refilled, bath products come in large refillable bottles from Oceopin, a brand whose name is based on the cap itself, and the sunscreen on offer is made in the Landes, just inland. A small bar pours Lillet, regional wine, and a few bottled cocktails, and the hotel runs beach clean-ups through the season.
They run the place with the ease of a family house. Someone will book a restaurant table, arrange a surf lesson or a morning of yoga, and there is a sauna for two at the end of a cold day in the water. There is no lunch or dinner. Breakfast is the thing here: a buffet where almost everything comes from close by, smoked fish from down the street, honey, jam, bread, and charcuterie, with coffee roasted by L'Alchimiste in Bordeaux.
The Atlantic is about fifty metres away, down a sandy path through the dunes, and the beach below the lighthouse picks up swell for most of the year. The hotel keeps good rental bikes, built by a small maker in the Vendée, for the ride to the better breaks up the coast, and a ferry runs across the water to Arcachon for the day. Climb the 258 steps of the lighthouse and the whole peninsula lays itself out: ocean on one side, the calm of the bay on the other, the great pale wall of the Dune du Pilat across the channel. Out at La Pointe, the end of the spit, the beach faces the dune, and the sunsets run long.
That bay side is oyster country. The old ostréicole villages of L'Herbe and Le Canon still sell oysters straight from the painted cabins where they are grown, eaten at a plastic table with a glass of white and a view of the flats at low tide. The village around it stays low and wooden, a summer market, a handful of restaurants, bikes against every fence. From the hammocks in the courtyard, it is a short walk either way, west to the ocean and the surf, east to the bay and the oyster shacks.
The ocean beach below the hotel, by the lighthouse, breaks over sand and works through much of the year, an easy place to paddle out before breakfast. La Pointe, at the very tip of the spit about ten minutes south by bike, faces the Dune du Pilat and is the prettiest spot on the peninsula, a beach break that shifts with the sandbars. Le Truc Vert, roughly fifteen minutes north up the D106 and then a walk over the dunes through the pines, is the standout break here, with long sandy peaks. Le Grand Crohot, near the neck of the peninsula about half an hour north, is popular in summer and quieter out of season. These are open Atlantic beach breaks: bigger and heavier in winter, smaller and more crowded in summer, with strong currents and baïnes to read before going in.
There is no restaurant for lunch or dinner, so evenings happen out in the village. What the hotel does is breakfast, and it does it carefully. The buffet is almost entirely local: smoked fish from a smokehouse down the street, honey and jam, breads and charcuterie, granola, with coffee roasted by L'Alchimiste in Bordeaux. It is laid out to linger over, in the courtyard or by the windows. Through the day a small bar pours Lillet, regional wine and a few bottled cocktails. For everything else, the owners know the good tables nearby and will call ahead to book one.
Cap Ferret is a long, thin peninsula between the Atlantic and the calm Bassin d'Arcachon, with a pine forest and dune down its spine, and oyster villages along the bay. It was built on oyster farming, and the old ostréicole hamlets of L'Herbe, Le Canon, and Piraillan still sell oysters from the cabins where they are grown. It has long drawn Bordeaux and Paris families who like it understated: wooden houses, no high-rises, bikes over cars. The eating is simple and very good, oysters and white wine at the bay-side shacks, a few restaurants in the village, and the fish market in season.
Address: 119 Avenue de Bordeaux, 33970 Lège-Cap-Ferret, France
Check-in: 16:00
Check-out: 11:00
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