Travel Darbar By Inder Raj Ahluwalia

A silver necklace of sand along the blue of the ocean, it does what it was always meant to do. Bask in the bright sunshine and unfold its myriad charms. There is a certain savoir foire in this town that begins where the Atlantic Ocean ends. To say that it’s a rather special place is to state the obvious, but it is special. Biarritz was made for holidays! It was the whales and not the elegant 19 th Century ladies who were the first sea-bathers here. A tiny fishing port in the Middle - Ages, it saw dramatic change with the new craze for sea bathing. The Empress Eugenie exalted the town, turning it into Europe’s most fashionable resort. Converging here were the crowned heads of the entire continent, to throw themselves into the waves and into an endless round of sophisticated soirees, romantic promenades and glittering balls.  Following them were the stars of the arts and high society who played hard on the green grass of the golf courses and the green baize of the gaming

In a way, it turned out to be exactly as advertised. Grim, sinister, hauntingly scenic, it loomed up on the horizon, squatting on a gently rolling hill, waiting to tell its story. As if by design, we got the ‘perfect’ backdrop. It was cold and gray, with a fine drizzle and just a hint of sleet. And the wind was the way winds often tend to be. Cruel! I’m convinced that much of the site’s charm stems from its complete isolation, so loaded with suggestion.   And its strong, indelible historical link with harsh, dark days far gone by, when primitive man strove to sustain himself in difficult conditions.   The topography and setting could well be the prop for a Shakespearean tragedy. The monument squats all by itself- a bit awkwardly I think - on the top of a gentle incline, commanding fine views of the valleys and meadows of Wiltshire downland.   Mysterious and desolate,   it reveals the remains of a prehistoric monument that was ‘live’ thousands