I almost can't believe it! Not the walking, but the fact that for a second consecutive day I have found wifi :0) It makes the task of maintaining the blog so much easier, plus it makes it feel somewhat more relevant than to be posting three or four days after the facts.
Anyway, enough preamble from me, let's get on with it.
Shall I start by commenting on last night? Shall I? Should I go on to explain how, after having found the cheap restaurant around the back of the youth hostel and paid 6.80 for two courses and wine, and got back to my room and, after reading for a while, dozed off happily into a peaceful sleep? And should I then go on to say how, despite the entire dormitory being asleep (22:00hrs) we were woken by four louts who came in after midnight and - oh my goodness - spent what felt like an eternity crashing about, taking things out of plastic bags, dropping things on the floor, opening and closing cupboards repeatedly, going in and out of the main door and letting it bang... I trust you're getting the picture. And FINALLY!!!! when it all settles down again (and I'm thoroughly awake) they start TALKING. Not whispering, but talking. And then on goes the portable music player that can be heard through the headphones.
I was/am determined to not let such crass behaviour spoil my day (or night). I resolved to turn over and go back to sleep. I think I was even on the point of dropping off when... when.... Go on - guess. The snoring started. But this wasn't simply a rogue operator. This was three of them! Together! Synchronised snoring.
I put up with it as long as I possibly could, but in the end decided I had to do something. Deciding that what might satisfy me more wasn't necessarily the best course of action, I headed down to reception to see if there was anyone about. I found a chap down there who was very sympathetic to my plight and he changed my room for me and put me in a smaller dormitory. It was 02:00am by now, but I crept gratefully into the new room, hugely relieved to find it as silent as the tomb in there. Of course that didn't stop the person in the next bunk from beginning to snore the instant my head hit the pillow, but I did get some sleep.
And while I accept that the following behaviour was somewhat childish of me, I awoke at 06:00 to hurry back upstairs to my original dorm, where I had left my rucksack and other gear, and, as soon as I sensed others rising, took some pleasure in the full suite of noises available when one is packing a rucksack. There were plastic bags to be taken out and repacked. There were things to be placed not so quietly on the floor. There was in fact a good ten minutes' worth of noisy packing to be done!
Anyway, this seems to have become rather a long beginning and I'm not even into my day yet!
They served a great breakfast at the Hostel and I dug in. I left San Sebastien around 08:00 and the camino passed just 50 metres from the door, so it was out and up - ten minutes after breakfast and I'm climbing stairs.
I feel like mentioning the weather at this point. As you know, the weather throughout this trip has been largely great. A bit too hot at times in France, but the worst I've really experienced (in terms of walking in it) has been very light drizzle for about an hour.
Well of course down on the Bay of Biscay things can be a little more unpredictable. For the past few days now there have been scudding clouds and passages of threatening looking weather. And more than once now we've been warned of impending storms that threaten to last for days. But as yet, no such thing has occurred. Last night, some time after arriving and doing all the necessary, the heavens opened. It absolutely tipped it down. There was talk around the hostel of the rain lasting well into the morning. As it turned out, no such thing happened. Once again we have dodged the rain and I climbed gently out of San Sebastien under cloud but with blue sky visible. I have to say that I'll take the snoring for the weather.
It was gentle going. The early morning was into the forest, and I quickly caught Jost - a Dutch pilgrim who, I was soon to learn, has done some remarkable walks in his life, not least of which was to have walked from his home in Holland to Santiago - 2400km in 100 days, as well as his tales of pilgrimage around a Japanese island to visit all the 88 shinto temples.
So, it wasn't long before the views started appearing. We're now almost in Cantabria and it's very, very green up here, especially when the sun comes out :0)
And not the very least of things, the signposting seems to have sorted itself out:
We ended up walking on what looked like a very old paved trail - I'm certainly no expert but I feel it could have been there for centuries - possibly from the middle ages when the pilgrimage took millions per year to seek cures and forgiveness from Sant Iago:
As if it might have been just a little too easy to forget mankind's sins, the motorway thrust its way into the green hills:
It didn't take long however before we were back with just mother nature for company (even though the motorway can be heard from miles away):
The walking was easy, the gradients mild. We dipped down the hill into the old town of Orio. Some surprisingly old buildings, not least of which was this small hermitage on the hill before the village. The plaque informed me that it was built in the 6th century and restored in the 13th:
Orio has an old town and a busy port. Today was a general strike in Spain (I imagine that if one follows the news, this fact would have been impossible to miss) and as a result there were people out everywhere, taking the dog for a walk or sitting chatting in the midday sunshine. It was around 20 C now, with a slight breeze - once again perfect weather for walking :0)
All of the houses in one particular street had plaques attached to explain their histories. This one caught my eye, as I know there is at least one of you reading this blog who is proud of their Irish ancestry (you may have to expand the photo to read the plaque):
Jost, being Dutch, needed his coffee fix so I left him to find the bar and notice André heading off - presumably after a break (André likes 05:00am starts, although today he left in daylight). I caught him up and we walked together pretty much the rest of the way. First off was to walk around the port before retaking the coastal path:
After passing under the motorway we were off again uphill and into the countryside. I noticed that it's harvest time here for the grapes:
Once over this slight climb we could see down to the West. I was rather surprised to find, upon asking passing locals (my Spanish is returning, albeit a little slower than I'd like) that the towns visible were Zarautz and, in the distance, Getaria, our destination for the day. This had been described as a day of 27km but it felt nothing of the sort. For one thing we'd only been walking for four and a half hours. Anyway, it was still a lovely sight as we descended the hill and the towns came into view:
Very quickly we were into Zarautz. A right turn at the roundabout at the entrance to the village and then the principal streets passed in a dead straight line for the next couple of kilometres. It was easy walking - maple and sycamore for shade, and the locals sitting on benches in the sunshine chatting, as they are prone to doing in Spain ;0)
Zarautz is what I'd call an ordinary, modern Spanish seaside town. Expanded greatly from the an historical centre, and thus a smattering of old buildings and the obligatory church, the new shops and homes abut directly onto the beach:
Here are some upset Spaniards assembled in the town square, complaining hard about their lives. No wonder they need to strike:
I also found some distances - something of a rare event along the camino:
Oops, it seems I posted the wrong photo earlier. Here's the photo that shows the aggrieved locals venting their rage:
From here it was less than 4km to Getaria, and the local department had thoughtfully built this lovely railed walkway along the coast. I was more than happy to wander along in the sunshine, sharing the littoral with what looked like the entire population of both villages. Young and old, big and small, the world feels right when the sun is shining. I felt I should have packed my bucket and spade. I could have sat on the beach and made sandcastles :0)
And just like that, we were in Getaria, with it's unusual monument with its latin inscription (above the grilled door halfway up):
I then became clear that the albergue we were looking for wasn't actually in the town. It was a short way outside, in a small gathering of houses called Azkizu. We strolled the 40 minutes up a small hill, observing the tiny church of St Martin du Tours:
I've been happily installed in a very comfortable, fully equipped albergue with free wifi, a TV (which I have no intention of switching on) and very comfy beds - with sheets! (many, many places use disposable covers but encourage the use of individual sleeping bags. It makes a nice change to be able to sleep in a bed). The charming and helpful hospitalero is preparing dinner for 19:30, and I've managed to wash all my clothes, shave, charge various electrical gadgets and basically catch up fully with several small tasks. I'm going to enjoy reading my book for a couple of hours. André seems to be in more of a hurry than me and has planned himself a 10+ hour walk tomorrow, basically combiding two stages together. I've no such intention. I plan to walk the 15km to Deba tomorrow and see what that brings :0)
Here's the view from the balcony of our albergue:
Anyway, enough preamble from me, let's get on with it.
Shall I start by commenting on last night? Shall I? Should I go on to explain how, after having found the cheap restaurant around the back of the youth hostel and paid 6.80 for two courses and wine, and got back to my room and, after reading for a while, dozed off happily into a peaceful sleep? And should I then go on to say how, despite the entire dormitory being asleep (22:00hrs) we were woken by four louts who came in after midnight and - oh my goodness - spent what felt like an eternity crashing about, taking things out of plastic bags, dropping things on the floor, opening and closing cupboards repeatedly, going in and out of the main door and letting it bang... I trust you're getting the picture. And FINALLY!!!! when it all settles down again (and I'm thoroughly awake) they start TALKING. Not whispering, but talking. And then on goes the portable music player that can be heard through the headphones.
I was/am determined to not let such crass behaviour spoil my day (or night). I resolved to turn over and go back to sleep. I think I was even on the point of dropping off when... when.... Go on - guess. The snoring started. But this wasn't simply a rogue operator. This was three of them! Together! Synchronised snoring.
I put up with it as long as I possibly could, but in the end decided I had to do something. Deciding that what might satisfy me more wasn't necessarily the best course of action, I headed down to reception to see if there was anyone about. I found a chap down there who was very sympathetic to my plight and he changed my room for me and put me in a smaller dormitory. It was 02:00am by now, but I crept gratefully into the new room, hugely relieved to find it as silent as the tomb in there. Of course that didn't stop the person in the next bunk from beginning to snore the instant my head hit the pillow, but I did get some sleep.
And while I accept that the following behaviour was somewhat childish of me, I awoke at 06:00 to hurry back upstairs to my original dorm, where I had left my rucksack and other gear, and, as soon as I sensed others rising, took some pleasure in the full suite of noises available when one is packing a rucksack. There were plastic bags to be taken out and repacked. There were things to be placed not so quietly on the floor. There was in fact a good ten minutes' worth of noisy packing to be done!
Anyway, this seems to have become rather a long beginning and I'm not even into my day yet!
They served a great breakfast at the Hostel and I dug in. I left San Sebastien around 08:00 and the camino passed just 50 metres from the door, so it was out and up - ten minutes after breakfast and I'm climbing stairs.
I feel like mentioning the weather at this point. As you know, the weather throughout this trip has been largely great. A bit too hot at times in France, but the worst I've really experienced (in terms of walking in it) has been very light drizzle for about an hour.
Well of course down on the Bay of Biscay things can be a little more unpredictable. For the past few days now there have been scudding clouds and passages of threatening looking weather. And more than once now we've been warned of impending storms that threaten to last for days. But as yet, no such thing has occurred. Last night, some time after arriving and doing all the necessary, the heavens opened. It absolutely tipped it down. There was talk around the hostel of the rain lasting well into the morning. As it turned out, no such thing happened. Once again we have dodged the rain and I climbed gently out of San Sebastien under cloud but with blue sky visible. I have to say that I'll take the snoring for the weather.
It was gentle going. The early morning was into the forest, and I quickly caught Jost - a Dutch pilgrim who, I was soon to learn, has done some remarkable walks in his life, not least of which was to have walked from his home in Holland to Santiago - 2400km in 100 days, as well as his tales of pilgrimage around a Japanese island to visit all the 88 shinto temples.
So, it wasn't long before the views started appearing. We're now almost in Cantabria and it's very, very green up here, especially when the sun comes out :0)
And not the very least of things, the signposting seems to have sorted itself out:
We ended up walking on what looked like a very old paved trail - I'm certainly no expert but I feel it could have been there for centuries - possibly from the middle ages when the pilgrimage took millions per year to seek cures and forgiveness from Sant Iago:
As if it might have been just a little too easy to forget mankind's sins, the motorway thrust its way into the green hills:
It didn't take long however before we were back with just mother nature for company (even though the motorway can be heard from miles away):
The walking was easy, the gradients mild. We dipped down the hill into the old town of Orio. Some surprisingly old buildings, not least of which was this small hermitage on the hill before the village. The plaque informed me that it was built in the 6th century and restored in the 13th:
Orio has an old town and a busy port. Today was a general strike in Spain (I imagine that if one follows the news, this fact would have been impossible to miss) and as a result there were people out everywhere, taking the dog for a walk or sitting chatting in the midday sunshine. It was around 20 C now, with a slight breeze - once again perfect weather for walking :0)
All of the houses in one particular street had plaques attached to explain their histories. This one caught my eye, as I know there is at least one of you reading this blog who is proud of their Irish ancestry (you may have to expand the photo to read the plaque):
Jost, being Dutch, needed his coffee fix so I left him to find the bar and notice André heading off - presumably after a break (André likes 05:00am starts, although today he left in daylight). I caught him up and we walked together pretty much the rest of the way. First off was to walk around the port before retaking the coastal path:
After passing under the motorway we were off again uphill and into the countryside. I noticed that it's harvest time here for the grapes:
Very quickly we were into Zarautz. A right turn at the roundabout at the entrance to the village and then the principal streets passed in a dead straight line for the next couple of kilometres. It was easy walking - maple and sycamore for shade, and the locals sitting on benches in the sunshine chatting, as they are prone to doing in Spain ;0)
Zarautz is what I'd call an ordinary, modern Spanish seaside town. Expanded greatly from the an historical centre, and thus a smattering of old buildings and the obligatory church, the new shops and homes abut directly onto the beach:
Here are some upset Spaniards assembled in the town square, complaining hard about their lives. No wonder they need to strike:
I also found some distances - something of a rare event along the camino:
Oops, it seems I posted the wrong photo earlier. Here's the photo that shows the aggrieved locals venting their rage:
From here it was less than 4km to Getaria, and the local department had thoughtfully built this lovely railed walkway along the coast. I was more than happy to wander along in the sunshine, sharing the littoral with what looked like the entire population of both villages. Young and old, big and small, the world feels right when the sun is shining. I felt I should have packed my bucket and spade. I could have sat on the beach and made sandcastles :0)
And just like that, we were in Getaria, with it's unusual monument with its latin inscription (above the grilled door halfway up):
I then became clear that the albergue we were looking for wasn't actually in the town. It was a short way outside, in a small gathering of houses called Azkizu. We strolled the 40 minutes up a small hill, observing the tiny church of St Martin du Tours:
I've been happily installed in a very comfortable, fully equipped albergue with free wifi, a TV (which I have no intention of switching on) and very comfy beds - with sheets! (many, many places use disposable covers but encourage the use of individual sleeping bags. It makes a nice change to be able to sleep in a bed). The charming and helpful hospitalero is preparing dinner for 19:30, and I've managed to wash all my clothes, shave, charge various electrical gadgets and basically catch up fully with several small tasks. I'm going to enjoy reading my book for a couple of hours. André seems to be in more of a hurry than me and has planned himself a 10+ hour walk tomorrow, basically combiding two stages together. I've no such intention. I plan to walk the 15km to Deba tomorrow and see what that brings :0)
Here's the view from the balcony of our albergue:
Spain seems to be turning out nice.
ReplyDeletePity about the yobs but you seem to have found a good solution.