DAY 16. 24 MAY 2016. PORTAGALETE TO POBEÑA

I've just retread my previous blog- very unfair on the men! If I am to re-solve on this Camino (or become re-solute) it will require fluidity. Anyway, I'm now sitting outside Pobeña Albegue and already there are four women and seven men (but still no Brits so I'm thrown onto my bad French and worse Spanish). 

I'm glad I arrived here very early, because there are only 22 beds and already 10 pilgrims at 1.30pm, and it's a long walk to the next place to stay. Perhaps it's also wise to place a steady rock in the stream, to hold one's place in a queue sometimes!

Today started with a nice encounter with a German woman in the showers; it was her second day walking and she had the fresh-groomed look of a new pilgrim. Before all your clothes get dirty, the make-up washes off and your hair goes flat because the travel hair-brush just doesn't quite do the job. Quite a few people give up on hair altogether. 

The first couple of hours walk were very urban: high walkways over motorways and past graffiti sprayed on the plastic barriers. But then, slowly the traffic noise fades as I walk west and I sink back into the birdsong, cockerels crowing and donkeys braying. 

Then suddenly there is a glimpse of the distant sea, and then a whole sandy beach and a deep blue bay. I have a beer and sandwich at Zierbena (La Arena) to celebrate. 

Pobeña is a small village on a long beach with a Roman bridge and restaurants more to the point. I'm looking forward to exploring once the Albergue has opened at 3pm. It's a small, low yellow painted building with outside sinks at the back for clothes-washing and a line of chairs at the front for the queue of pilgrims. 

So I check in- my Credential is stamped and I find a bunk. I have a horrible suspicion there may be bed-bugs here??? I find a dead something on a pillow! So I put out the bedbug sheet again and hope for the best. 

Then I go to the beach; it's  beautiful. The sea is azure at the horizon. 

It occurs to me that this my first trip to the sea since Ali picked up my scallop shell at Saunton Sands in Devon, in October last year and here I am 8 months later, on my journey. Looking at online maps, I think I'm more or less on the same longitude. A nice connection in time and space. 

I'm thinking about the process of dissolving and ponder that time is a great solvent in this regard. 

I meet French and Lithuanian pilgrims on the shore and decide it's warm enough for a paddle, but then.... I wade in and swim! It's surprisingly warm- well like Cornwall in summer, but lovely and refreshing to the feet and legs. A very surprising end to my afternoon and then back to the albergue for a hot shower. 

It's 'canary-song' time, so I set out to look for the Roman bridge after a cup of tea. It's very small- only spanning a ditch really. I had imagined that it was huge from the photo on the notice-board!

I'm slightly concerned that the German lady hasn't turned up; I hope she's OK. 

The Frenchman, Lithuanian young woman and I go for supper at the closest restaurant. DELICIOUS! I start with a plate of pickled baby eels? with lardon and salad.

The talk is about 'real' wine, Confucius and Liu Tse which are written texts. The Gospels are written off as fabricated hear-say, but I refrain from asking whether the soul can read? Then an early night. 

DAY 15. 23 MAY 2016. BILBAO TO PORTAGALETE

An interesting start to the day. The NZ woman and I started to chat about why we were doing the Camino; she said that she was feeling very unsure about continuing. That she was used to real wilderness in NZ and found herself asking why she was walking through semi-industrial areas and suburbia and was concerned by the commercial aspect of it. What she was really interested in, she said, was the 'wild-food' that she encountered along the way (wild-strawberries etc). I found myself talking about the Findhorn Community, the wildness of Iona and the alternative world view of the Schumacher Institute for some reason, but I wish I had read her Ithaca by CP Cavafy. 

"...Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
 
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean."

In the end, the Camino walks you and takes you where it will, she will walk her own Camino; whatever she decides. 

After breakfast I set out for my next stop Portagalete. The formal route out of Bilbao is along very busy roads, but the Hospitaleros suggest walking along the Bilbao River to its mouth. 

It would not have been everybody's idea of a great walk, but I loved it; being a bit of a flaneur (urban-wanderer) and a fan of hulking great bits of rusting steel. The road takes you past vast areas of derelict warehousing, steel fabricators, glass-making factories, crooked cranes, mud and the studio of a metal worker/ sculptor Jon Alberdi. The traffic whizzes by too fast and too close, but I had a great morning's walk and stopped for coffee and a crab/tortilla bocadillo on the way. 

The best bit was at the end; crossing the river on a Transporter-Bridge. Wonderful and unexpected. It takes cars, bikes and pedestrians in a hanging gondola suspended by wires from a huge-steel framed gantry, and deposits you on a charming water-front promenade in Portagalete. A series of travelators  then take you up a long steep hill into the centre of town. 

I check into the Pilgrim's Pension about 2pm; it is very nice with cotton sheets, modern facilities and a kitchen, but a 18 bed dorm. I find myself surrounded by men again; it's quite hard that bit. I was not expecting so few women on the Camino. Everyone is very polite and modest but still... messy beds and big smelly boots etc. 

I forgot my picnic lunch in Bilbao, so I have a cod-croquette, a glass of beer and a rather horrid custard filled doughnut, then set out to explore the town. The old town is a warren of balconied streets and you can see the sea in the distance from the waterfront. I'm enjoying sitting in a sunny square with lots of sparrows and watched some guys play pelotte (a Basque sport similar to squash) played with wooden bats. 

I like wandering around town in the early evenings. The blocks of flats suddenly become alive with trilling canaries; I go in search of supper, but only find a greengrocer, so have a huge baked potato, white asparagus and a tomato and pepper salad. I sit with a couple of chatty Frenchmen who kindly pour me a glass of red wine and offer a couple of strawberries for pudding. I take back about the smelly boots!

Bed after a hot shower. 

DAY 14. 22 MAY 2016. BILBAO REST DAY.

Breakfast with hot milky chocolate, tomato jam and toast at the Albergue and then it's down hill to Bilbao town with the Canadian woman. I check into the Akelarre Hostel which is very nice with a warm welcome and a HOT shower. They do a service wash and dry for €5, so my muddy clothes get a treat as well. 

It's raining when I set out and the Guggenheim is a 20 minute walk, so it's good day for visiting a gallery. 

I thoroughly enjoy revisiting the Richard Serra sculptures. I spent a lot of time wandering in and out of them and had a sense of time slowing down as I did so; I didn't know the the installation is called 'The Matter of Time'. They are very subtle despite their scale; goodness knows how they were made and installed. 

The main exhibition was a collection of 'cell/lair' works by Louise Bougeoise which were a real contrast to the massively formal Serras. 

I had my first awful meal experience near the Guggenheim; very bad fried fish and soggy salad at an exorbitant price. I should have consulted Trip Advisor.

I then went in search of the AZ centre which had been recommended to me, which has a Philip Stark interior and a glass bottomed swimming pool so you can see people swimming above you.... I'm not convinced why you would want to do that!

From there I walk to the Old Town with its narrow balconied streets, stone churches and little shops. It's a lovely day by now, so I stroll around. 

I return to the hostel for a cup of tea and settle into the room. There are only two of us in the room, a NZ peregrina and me, so it should be a quieter night, sin roncadores.

I eat supper standing at a local bar: warm tortilla, goats' cheese with raspberry jam and a glass of the local Charcoli white-sparkling wine. Very nice. Then home snd bed by 10pm. Off again tomorrow on the flat apparently!

DAY 13. 21 MAY 2016. DARRIO TO BILBOA ALTIMRA

Well I woke up this morning and discovered that I wasn't in Bilbao! So after a leisurely start I venture out...

I'm actually 2-3 hours walk away near the airport. The very helpful receptionist gave me maps and print-outs of how to get back on the Camino, but after 20 minutes trying to get out of the hotel carpark! I decide to retrace my steps from last night and pick up the yellow arrows down the road about 20 minutes away. 

I call into the next hotel to fill up my water bottle and they kindly make me a sandwich for breakfast and then I'm on my way in the hot sunshine. 

It's lovely to be back in the woods amongst birdsong and unfurling ferns. But it's quite a climb up and over the mountain to get into the Bilbao valley. I meet two young Americans and a couple of French girls after a while. I'm walking very slowly today, I have to stop often to get up the hills. 

Eventually the hill turns downwards, through a park full of locals relaxing and barbecuing. I had forgotten what a varied and nice city Bilbao is, and I'm seeing it differently as a pilgrim because I'm on a different trajectory through the city. 

I bump into the two German women from the Casa Rural in Markina!

I head for the albergue - they are full or not open until June! I sit on a wall to phone round hostels by a bar and a Spanish woman phones round for me and finds an Albergue on the other side of town with space. It's an hour's walk away and I plan to cheat and catch a bus- but I can't find the bus stop so I walk through the suburbs following yellow arrows. Areas with lots of Africans and Turkish (think Peckham) and then past lots of Aldis and very urban high-rise, out into the country and up, up more hills until I arrive at... a derelict school. 

YIKES! With great trepidation I trudge up two flights of stairs to the reception.... to be met with great warmth by Matteo and Jasmin. What a gift hospitality is; it turns tiredness into laughter and what seems derelict into a home for the night. The Hospitaleros in the Pilgrim's albergues are volunteers and so offer a real service to weary travellers. A woman on a bicycle arrives at 9.30pm looking absolutely exhausted; she was carefully looked after, fed and given the last bed. 

There is a large gathering of Basque families singing traditional songs, dancing and eating a late lunch on long tables and playing football in the playground. I go and watch for a while. 

Preparations for our supper were overseen by Jasmin and started at 6.30pm with mass vegetable chopping and we all sat down to home-made tuna salad, chorizo stew and yoghurt at 8pm. I'm the only English person, so I'm glad when a Canadian woman joins the table. The others are French, German and Spanish. 

We all wash-up after the meal and after a COLD shower (I manage by washing tiny bits of me at a time), it's time for bed in a huge room with the beds placed all around the outside. Huge thunderstorm later. A lovely day. 

DAY 12. 20 MAY 2016. GERNIKA TO BILBOA

A beautiful blue sky welcomes us on our way. Gernika is mainly a modern city of course, but we walk out past the Gothic cathedral and older houses and squares. Then up a steep hill into the woods with glimpses out into the mountains. Today I'm walking with the my two German friends, Claudia and Julie and we then catch up with the Frenchman from  Casa Rural in Markina-Xemein. 

The sun is hot and it's definitely sun tan lotion weather. The terrain has several steep climbs and is very muddy and slippery in parts from previous rain - my trusty poles to the rescue! We stop a couple of times in the shady canopies of churches. As we've got nearer Bilbao the houses get bigger and smarter, so perhaps we've reached the commuter belt?

We have a late lunch in a very nice town called Larrabetzu - a tortilla and beer for €3! Claudia and Julie decide to take a bus into Bilbao- I decide to walk to the Youth Hostel. So we say our fond farewells and off I go. 

It's a long slog and the nearest Albergue doesn't open till June, so I then try a Casa Rural- which is full. I'm now walking along huge wide roads in an industrial landscape. So I head for the Youth Hostel Atapetaxea which has 90 beds and is housed in a huge, sinister looking ex-seminary, on the outskirts of town. It's full and I can't walk another step after 10 hours on the road!!! So I book myself into the Hotel Seminaria next door. Grim Post-Modern nowhere-ville but.... I have a hot bath. The soles of my feet feel bruised. I can't walk any further, so I have a very nasty plate of pasta in the hotel and I'm so hungry it tastes delicious! Bed in clean sheets with lots of foot cream. 

DAY 11. 19 MAY 2016. MARKINA-XEMEIN-GERNIKA

A watery day. I walk by rivers in the rain, past a pouring tap that cannot be turned off, ford a stream by balancing on stones, listen to billions of rain drops pattering on millions of leaves. A dissolving sort of day. 

Plenty of gentle hills, mainly through pine and oak woods with stands of eucalyptus and hornbeam in the morning and then large grassy meadows and small villages of stone chalets in the afternoon. I hear cuckoos and see a goldfinch flit off a fence. 

I walk a while with a young Spanish guy from Barcelona this morning and then catch up with two German women who I'd met before, but generally I'm alone with myself- I feel I'm slowly sinking into my soul. 

I had planned to stay at the Monastery at Zenarrutza, but it doesn't open its alberge until 3pm and it's too cold to wait so long, but I listen to the monks chant morning office in front of an amazing altar-piece, which is very restful interlude.

I pass several interesting churches and chapels on the route, but they are all locked which is a shame. 

I have my late picnic lunch in a open-sided shelter which I think is a sports hall for the Basque sport called "Harri-jasotze" which involves lifting huge blocks of stone weighing 100s of kilos. 

I arrive at Gernika about 4.30pm after walking 7 hours so I'm ready to stop. I'm booked into the Youth Hostel, but Justine an American pilgrim I met Orio, has warned me on WhatsApp of bed-bugs. YIKES!  I'm trusting that my bed-bug sheet will kill the blighters... the hostel is pretty dirty and we are handed out plastic bags to put our clothes in - so I'll know in the morning. Nice clean cotton sheets though. 

It's still raining, but armed with the lovely brolly I bought in Bayonne, I go in search of the ceramic-tile reproduction of Picasso's painting Guernica/ Gernika which is at the far end of the town. Then off for a very nice supper at a restaurant recommended by a local, 'La 'Veheje' with the two German women. Wonderful fish soup served in a huge silver terrine, followed by fried fish and rice pudding (a local speciality) and creme caramel with a bottle of good white wine. Our every reaction was watched and the ancient proprietress was delighted that we so enjoyed her food. Charming. 

And so to bed. Hopefully without any bed bugs!

DAY 10. 18 MAY 2016. A REST IN MARKINA-XEMEIN

I decide to book myself into a pension as a treat on my rest day. My own room, shower, no snoring and not having to sleep with my hand-bag!

American Justine recommended the Alburque Intxauspe and so I hot- footed there first thing, to wait for them to prepare the room. Very nice. 

So I spent the day catching up with the blog, washing my sleeping bag liner and 'pillow case' and wandering around town. 

I notice what I think is an art gallery and wander in - to discover it's the showroom of a carpenter/artist. We chat and he shows me his beautiful work. Mainly pieces by Basque dowry chests and more abstract works as well. Thick sections of pale limed oak exquisitely  carved with geometric patterns. 

Supper is provided at the Pension. Delicious! Spaghetti and salad, battered anchovies with egg and chips, creme caramel with strawberries and red wine. I eat the lot WHOOSH. 

I share a table with two older Frenchmen and two German women. The men are a affronted that London has a Pakistani Mayor- I tell them he is British, but they are not convinced, but seem relieved that I will be voting to remain in Europe. This is the second such conversation I've had with French people in the last few days- interesting. 

Bed early to enjoy my shower and clean sheets. 

DAY 9. 17 MAY 2016. DEBA TO MERKINA-XENMEIN

The galumfing and head-torches started at 5.30am and there was no point staying in bed, so I got up and was on the road at 6.00am- thank goodness! 

An unforgettable day- beautiful scenery but 17,000 steps with an endless 1:3 ascent up 500m. The toughest day so far, but cool and with shady woods. 

I start out by myself and have breakfast (bottled asparagus baguette) in a square in a small empty village- the only sound is the donkey with her bell in the field nearby.

But I catch up! with some German and French pilgrims. I stroll... the Germans GO and were soon out of sight. I follow the three Frenchmen who are good pace setters with Santiago in their sights. 

Lots of lovely animal encounters today- a valley full of chestnut coloured cattle; the sound of their bells fills the air, tiny local ponies with their foals, donkeys, geese and chickens and a tiny black pig. 

The scenery is almost alpine with lots of wild flowers, pine trees, shady Holme-oaks, large grassy meadows and streams crossing the tracks. Quite a lot of mud. 

Merkina-Xenmein is a nice old town in a valley. I follow the yellow arrows and stop at the open door of a small church on the outskirts. WHOA!! CRIKEY!!

For a second I couldn't comprehend what I was looking at- my first thought was an art installation! Then I saw it was a group of 3 enormous weathered rocks that filled the whole space. 

A few other people arrived, but seemed totally unimpressed! I wondered what it would take to surprise them - perhaps Catholics are more used to miracles?

I trudge into town and find the Alberge which is in an old monastery and have a hot shower and wash some clothes. Then I wander into the central square and join the four Frenchmen for a 3 course Pilgrim's dinner with red wine for 10€. Then bed by 9pm. 

DAY 8. 16 MAY 2016. ZUMARIA TO DEBA

A good night's sleep and full breakfast - on the road at 8am. 

More rolling hills; I'm enjoying walking alone and the encounters it encourages- human, animal and vegetable. In the end it all becomes encounter - a blue egg shell on the road, a meadow of wild flowers, deep blue columbine growing amongst ferns, a chaffinch who flies ahead of me for a few minutes just a few meters away and a chat with a couple of German cyclists on their way to Santiago. 

I've noticed a lot of animals wear bells around their necks here- sheep, cows, horses and donkeys. The sound is lovely- a sort of hollow 'donk' noise whenever they move, so a heard of goats sounds very melodic hidden in the woods. 

The weather is perfect walking weather, cool with a breeze. A few distant sea views with larks and winding paths through woods, ringing with bird-song. 

First stop is Itziar, where the verger of the church welcomes me at the door to stamp my credencial and then shows me a small chapel with a stained glass window of a ship and an exquisite painted timber statue of the Virgin. He spent a lot of time trying to tell me about of band of 5 explorers who sailed the ship - but I didn't understand- some thing to do with the discovering the Philippines perhaps?

Finally made it to Deba by 12ish. A steep descent into the town made easier by a series of public lifts. The albergue is housed in the old railway station and you have to register and collect the keys from the tourist office. Very nice inside- neat and clean. I'm in a room with 7 men- Stan the Canadian is in the bunk below. I'm glad I was allocated a top bunk- I've got a bit more privacy up there!

After unrolling my sleeping bag I stroll down the the beach to find a cafe with wifi and tackle my photos with a glass of cidra and a bowl of olives. 

At 7pm Stan and I, go the the Cathedral for mass. A group of about 30, mainly women, are gathered in a chapel- ornately panelled with dark wood and lots of pictures of burly Basque looking saints interspersed with mirrors. Wonderful singing again -and then off for supper to a bar near to the hostel. Delicious baked hake with salad, with a glass of the local fizzy white wine called Chacoli. Then a well earnt sleep. 

24km 500m elevation 37000 steps

DAY 7. 15 MAY 2016. ORIOL TO ZUMARIA

DAY 7. 15 MAY 2016. ORIO TO ZUMAIA

A good night's sleep- thanks to the wine and those silicon earplugs! Up to a cool misty day with a distinct Scottish feel! But a good breakfast with my fellow French, German, Italian and now an English pilgrims. I was sure it was going to rain so I put on my gaiters....

On the way out of town I hear singing from the church and creep in at the back. The up-lighters on the stone roof flood the place with a golden light and the singing in Basque is beautiful. I couldn't understand a thing of course, except a list of place-names, so I think the Gospel was the reading about everyone being able to understand each other's languages at Pentecost. I crept out after that...

A truly glorious day. I walked along the coast in brilliant sunshine to Zaraurtz and then onto the next town Getaria; joining the holiday-makers on their way along the board-walk and promenade, and accompanied by the sound of the sea. I think I heard a nightingale? The birdsong is really lovely here. 

I stop for 11-ses and meet up with the English guy and his Italian girl friend in a seafront cafe. It turns out they live in Southfields and he works as a picture-framer in Richmond!

Getaria is the home town of Vasco de Gama, who was the first person to sail around the world. Apparently he set off with the words "solo Dios lo sabe...". It's a nice old town with winding streets and restaurants cooking fish on charcoal. Out of my range, so I settle in a bar for a small glass of the delicious local cider and more anchovies! 

I've been pondering some alchemical musings. 

Yesterday, as I was walking along the phrase "all is resolved..." came into my head and I've been thinking about the process of re-solving and what the solvent might be. According to the Etymology Dictionary online, it comes from OF/Latin resolver: "to loosen, unyoke, set free, make void, dispel." I suspect one of the best solvents might be love; allowing what was stuck to flow again. 

Then this morning on the seafront there was a sculpture trail, mainly with works by the Basque sculptor Salazar. Two caught my eye: one depicted a shoot unfurling and the other was a still for distilling.

Lots of hills today, but less gruelling than yesterday so I decide to walk further to Zumaria; a port town thinking I would stay in the convent there. So off I go... but the convent is closed until July! So on I trudge, up a very strep hill to Pension Santa Clara, but there's no one at home.... 4pm.

I stop, rest, chat, have a shower... 6.21pm still no one at home.... to be cont....The owner turned up at 6.30pm - I got the last bed (Her website says there are 22 beds, but there are only 3 pilgrim spaces available!), so 6 others were turned away and had to walk back into town :-(

DAY 6. 14 MAY 2016. SAN SEBASTIÁN TO ORIOL

The day started with a hill at 7am and kept on going from there. Rolling green hills, pine woods, views of the sea- all softened by mist and rain. The 'Red Dwarf' came into its own and kept me dry from the outside anyway. 

Some kind person had made a pilgrim relief-station outside their house, complete with chairs, water and sello. So I had my breakfast there, just before it started to rain. 

I walked on and off, with a group of French and Italians and a single Japanese man on his second pilgrimage. 

A lovely spring of drinking water in the middle of a wood. Then on the final descent in a rocky Roman road- very hard walking on large slippery stones. My poles have become best friends- worth all the money I spent on them!

Finally made it to Orio at 12pm and sat in the porch on a comfy arm chair until the lovely Hospitalera came along. Albegue San Martin is a real oasis- it has a separate dining room for communal supper and breakfast, with a stunning view of the mountains over the valley and a spin dryer - more to the point. Orio is a fishing town with a history of whaling and today was their 'whale festival', so the town was packed withd people in Basque costumes, excited children and music. And plenty of drinking. 

A jolly supper with wine and then bed. A good day but need to sleep. 

DAY 5. 13 MAY 2016. SAN SEBASTIÁN

Slept well in luxurious clean cotton sheets and my earplugs. My German and Italian room-mates left early, and so I had a more leisurely start. It's cold and wet outside but decided to give my feet a rest in sandals today. 

Since most of my clothes are still wet, I ventured forth in my yoga pants, vest and fleece!

Breakfast in a nice little bar - Spanish omelette makes a delicious breakfast with tea and orange juice. 

The tourist information headed me off to the San Telmo Museum of Basque culture. A very nice modern extension to a Medieval monastery that was destroyed in the Napoleonic wars? Some wonderful pieces by Chillida and Oteiza and other members of the Gaur Group of artists (1965-67).

Then off to find Oteiza's massive sculpture 'Empty Construction' on the waterfront overlooking Concha Beach. Great to see the real thing in a blustery day, with the ocean roaring behind it. 

The Museum had collections on all aspects of Basque life from music, sport and murals in the chapel depicting the heroic achievements of its industrial labour. 

I had to test some more tapas in the gallery cafe and then made the long walk back to the hostel. I discover I have the room to myself tonight - wonderful. No snoring!!

I assembled my supper in the hostel kitchen tonight and ate in the vast dining room. A very different atmosphere to the  jolly Pilgrim Hostels- rather sad and isolating. I made enough for my picnics for tomorrow, so hopefully I can put some miles in and reach Orio or Getaria. 

Despite it being a rest day, I've walked 11 miles today and I'm ready for bed at 8.30pm. I hope it warms up a bit tomorrow....

DAY 4. 12 MARCH 2016. Passaje San Jean to San Sebastián.

Up early and off to the Ferry and then along the far side of the harbour, where canaries sing in cages on the wooden balconies above. A full-sized galleon is being constructed on the dock side- part of the Armada was built here. 

Then up a huge flight of steps to the cliff path where I walk alone among pines and oak woods, full of thrush song. Truly beautiful, with the sea murmuring far below. 

I take a detour onto a red and white route in order to stay on the cliff path, but join my fellow pilgrim band once I'm back on the yellow arrows. A hard walk but worth it. 

San Sebastián is an elegant city with a long Sant beach and a reputation for wonderful tapas, which we tried out several times during the day and can affirm!

Weather sunny but with showers later in the day. Had a nice supper with Justine, a pilgrim from Atlanta Georgia. 

I'm staying at the Onterreta Youth Hostel to night as the Albergue was full. A nice four bed room with shower room but swarms of French school children all around. Plenty of slamming doors and rushing about....

In bed at 9.30pm. 

DAY 3. 11 MAY 2016. IRUN TO PASAJE SAN JUAN

The silicone earplugs work! The snoring walrus-colony was reduced to a gentle purr! 

The Hospitalero was a jolly Spaniard, who kindly put me in a two-bed dorm, as opposed to 6. Up at crack of dawn(6.00am) to the sound of Irish jig music and out of the door at 7.15am - they lock up at 7.30am!

I set out with a group of about nine perigrenos, up a steep hill through woods, but then missed the yellow arrows to the Alpinista route. I was spared the gruelling ascent after all... the Camino had its own idea. I walked with three Germans who carried onto San Sebastián. I peeled off to a small fishing village, Pasaje San Juan, with charming old narrow streets and typical Basque houses overlooking a long sheltered inlet. Victor Hugo lived here! 

The Albegue Santa Anna is a quaint stone-built building and has only 14 beds, so hopefully it will be a quieter night.  The Hospitalero is another Spaniard, Alberto who keeps the place ship-shape. 

Off for supper, hopefully sea-food by the harbour? I've walked 13 miles today. 

DAY 2. 10 MAY. BAYONNE TO IRUN.

DAY 2
A restful night with breakfast en terrace in front of the station. I wander into town across the huge fast-flowing Adour river- the colour of dark jade and on to the Cathedral. It has a lovely modern golden altar frontal and lectern. 

In the dark at the back a woman sits at a desk in a pool of light. She stamps my first selo in my credencial- now I feel like a real pilgrim with my shell on my pack and my first stamp. In fact I am a real pilgrim. 

My pack is too heavy so I'm posting my iPad onto Santiago. I'm going to blog from my phone- tricky. I will have to add pictures as and when I find an Internet cafe, if such things exist on route? 

Three fellow pilgrims are waiting for the train to Irun. I eye up their packs....

The TGV arrived late and then crawled along to Irun, so it a felt very relaxed start. We stopped at St Jean de Luz; a pretty resort where we had a family-day on the beach the year before last. Happy memories! 

Now I'm sitting in another coffee shop in Irun waiting for the mobile shop to open. I met a nice old Italian Camino veteran on the train who showed me how the yellow arrows work.... extremely low key considering I'm navigating 500 miles by them. More anon.... Amen. 

NO MORE GYM

I head off to France tomorrow. I'm flying from Standsted to Biarritz and staying the night in Bayonne before heading over the border the following day. So no more training in the gym...it's the real thing from now on. 

PRACTICE WALK 15: 23 APRIL 2016. DOVER TO DEAL

We started from Dover Priory Station and returned to London from Deal. Lunch in a National Trust tearoom. I tried out the "Red Dwarf" poncho again much to my companions amazement and amusement!

PRACTICE WALK 14: RICHMOND PARK, 16 April 2016.

Spring has truly arrived. The parakeets are singing love songs in the oak trees.