Camino Norte de Santiago: Part 1

             Day 1: Monday 9 September.

After tidying up the motorhome we drove from the campsite to the storage farm. It was parked in a flat field below the farm houses and secured by padlocked bollards on the roads in and out. Adrian and Jan drove us to Marmande; she came to help with the purchase of train tickets as her French was superior to her husbands. She managed to get us a discount for pensioners and it only cost about E32 each for the journey to St Jean de Luz.
 

Arriving at Bordeaux

 The trains were very efficient; the trip to Bordeaux took only 50 minutes then after a 40 minute wait in Bordeaux only 2 hours to St. Jean. Both trains were very crowded but we managed to get seats each time. The scheduling was first class as well and we arrived at St Jean exactly on time, 5:02 pm.

St-Jean-de-Luz to Urrugne: 5 km.

We found the tourist information office and they marked a map with the location of the albergue, in the town over the river, Ciboure, that was recommended in our guide book. It was a pleasant walk over the river and the place was very busy with tourists; the weather was first class and obviously bringing them out. 

When we got to the other side we followed the yellow arrows and shell signs for the Camino but decided to check in at the tourist information there for final directions. We now encountered the first problem of the day, the albergue here was closed and there was no alternative cheap accommodation. She said the nearest pilgrim refuge was in Urrugne, a village about 5 km further. For some reason she said that we would have to get there by 7 pm; she tried to phone saying we were on our way but couldn't get a reply. We decided to head for it any way, we had 75 minutes to do the 5 km.

The route was mainly on tar and was well signposted with yellow arrows on lampposts or shell markers with pointers. We had no difficulty at all keeping to the right direction and reached Urrugne with 15 minutes to spare from the 'laid down time’. We were in doubt about finding the actual house, carrying on hopefully, when a car pulled up beside us. The woman, who had a splattering of English, asked if we were looking for pilgrim accommodation and offered us a room sharing with another couple for E12 each. We jumped in her car and she drove us there. It turned out to be the place we were heading for anyway.

It was a room with double bunk, a single bed and a pull-down bed. The other couple had taken the bottom bunk and the single bed we were happy with the rest. There was also a kitchen and on the street below was a small supermarket; Moira quickly went down there for something for dinner. It turned out to be a very pleasant place and the French couple were quite friendly. Moira managed to get hamburgers for dinner and we had some bread left from breakfast to go with them. She also bought a bottle of nice French red wine. It wasn't a feast but very enjoyable anyway.

The other couple went to bed early and we followed shortly after; lights went out at 9 pm. I didn't sleep very well, my legs were a bit sore after our hurried unexpected walk and the French guy in the bunk below me was a champion snorer.

Day 2: Tuesday 10 September.

Urrugne to Irun:  9.5 km.

Although the official distance was 9.5 km, on the advice of the warden woman we took a variation of the Camino. It was the cycle route into Hendeye that followed the Corniche overlooking the coast. She said it was a better route with more outstanding views. That may have been the case but all the way to Hendeye it poured with rain.

It was raining when we got up this morning, so we had a leisurely breakfast hoping it would clear. The French couple left and we waited a further half an hour before deciding to brave the elements. We were well covered in our rain jackets and waterproof trousers, and the cover protecting our rucksacks. It was really throwing it down and it wasn't long before we could feel it seeping through our waterproofs. It was between 2 - 3 kilometres of winding undulating narrow lanes before we reached the Corniche. I was under the impression it was only a walking and cycle track but it turned out to be a busy road. Where we had to walk was a muddy path on the other side of the traffic barrier. Later it improved to a wide tarred cycle path that led all the way into Hendeye. If the weather hadn't been so bad it would have been an outstanding route as we could see steep cliffs and ragged outcrops of rock as the path took us high above the sea.

When we reached Hendeye the rain went off and there was some blue sky starting to appear. Unfortunately it didn't last long and clouded over again; luckily the rain didn't come on again seriously, just a few minor showers. There was a cycle track that followed the river from Hendeye Plage to the town and railway station. It was a nice walk on a cycle track with nice views of Irun and Spain on the opposite bank.

 

Crossing from France to Spain

 At Hendeye railway station we crossed the bridge over the river and we were now in Spain, it was no longer Le Chemin de St Jacques but Camino de Santiago we were on. 

We were now on the official route again and following the yellow arrows. The deviation we had taken to the Corniche had been a lot longer, we had to go all the way to the coast and now we had come all the way back again to cross the river into Irun. It probably added at least 4 km to our day's walk. From the bridge it  was easy following the waymarks now into the city centre. The plan was to head for the church, the tower and steeple were quite apparent as made our way along a nice level path. The hope was that we could get our credentials there, the card that is stamped at each albergue to prove you have completed the course, and maybe information on the location of the local albergue. As is becoming common now the church was closed. By now we were both getting tired, sore and hungry; it was time for a stop for some lunch.

We found a small restaurant in a beautiful square advertising the 'dish of the day' for E5. We dined al fresco, the rain had gone off completely and it was warming up. The wet stuff came off and we were now in shorts and t-shirts while the rest hung over chairs to dry. We ordered a plate of tuna salad and another of chicken with roast potatoes; we split them between us. There was also a glass of Spanish red wine and all for under a total of E12. While dining it was now possible to examine our guide book and lists of albergues that we picked up last night to find out where to go next. The 'albergue peregrinos' (pilgrim's hostel) appeared to be closed and we settled on a Youth Hostel instead. The waiter in the restaurant directed us and indicated it was only 2 km.

The road he directed us on was marked with the yellows arrows so we were in the right direction and it was only a couple of kilometres. We got booked in, Moira had our Hosteling International cards with her, the only annoying thing being the cost -- E22 each. Even with breakfast included this is a ridiculous price for a bed in a dorm. The next frustration was when we asked about credentials he directed us to the 'albergue peregrinos' which was actually open and functioning. At least we got two single beds in the dorm; I didn't fancy having to climb to a top bunk at these prices. It had a kitchen and Internet so I made a cup of coffee and checked our email.

At 4 pm when the albergue opened we followed a map we got from the warden and went to get our credentials. There were about 4 people waiting to book in while the warden dealt with another couple. These people can't half talk and it took over half an hour before we reached the head of the queue. This is what's very annoying about these talkative officious wardens, they keep you waiting for ages after a long hard walk, and in the rain today, when what you want quickly is a bed and a nice hot shower. It would have been worth the frustration and waiting to come here, the price for the night was a donation. Eventually we got our credentials, duly stamped and dated, and were heading back to our expensive but by no means luxury accommodation.

We had a light meal in the evening having had a good lunch; soup and bread, a hardboiled egg and an apple washed down with some cheap but nice Spanish red wine. After dinner we sat in the lounge for a while reading and on the Internet but were both feeling tired so got to bed at 9pm. It wasn't a pleasant night, up until 11 pm there was a lot of people wandering about and slamming doors, then it quietened down. At 2 am somebody was in the bathroom attached to our dorm continuously pushing the water tap on and off. This gave a rush of water then a lull before another rush. I went to investigate and found the guy who was in our dorm busy washing and rinsing his clothes in the wash hand basins. I had words with him and but there was a language difficulty but his body language indicated that he didn't understand what our problem was. He disappeared somewhere and I couldn't get to sleep expecting him back to disturb us as he ready himself for bed. He reappeared at 4 am and started his washing again, this time Moira chased him out of the bathroom and he went to bed. Neither of us got much sleep.

When we were both in our teens and Youth Hosteling they were very strict. You had to be in before 10 pm and it was lights out. There was no noise and the warden who was on duty overnight was king. If you ran foul of his rules you didn't get your membership card back that you deposited with him on registering. Now there is nobody on charge overnight and people just do as they please. For the pleasure of this reduced service they increased the price many fold. 

Day 3: Wednesday 11 September.

Irun to San Juan de Pasaia: 17 km.

Normally when there is somebody else in the dorm and we get up, while they are sleeping, the procedure is to make as little noise as possible. We get our things together and move out into the lounge or dining room to complete our packing there. This morning I switched on all the light and packed our rucksacks in the dorm regardless of any noise we made. And we didn't keep our voices down.

It was 6:30 am when we got up and half an hour later went to the dining room for breakfast. It was all laid out for a help yourself buffet. We had fruit juice, cereal, and toast with plenty of freshly made coffee from a machine. We left at 8 am and headed down the route we took yesterday to the albergue for our credentials. The waymarkers to the Youth Hostel was for another branch of the Camino which led over to the French route at Pamplona. Our yellow markers continued from the albergue along the main road, it was on tar and easy to follow until we got to the outskirts of Irun then we were on a nice gravel path that ran beside a river and small lakes with ducks quacking as we passed. 
 
 

Lakeside scene leaving Irun

Soon the nice level even path finished and it was a steep climb on rough mountain tracks. It was a steady tough climb of about 15 minutes that took us to a col where there was a beautiful church with a large tower, Sanctuary of Guadalupe; there was also a view point and we were rewarded after the climb with a wondrous panorama of Irun below and the Rio Bidasoa with a multitude of yachts in the marina and on the other side Hendeye. In the distance was the sea, the Bay of Biscay and the start of the mountainous border between France and Spain, the Pyrenees.

We had a break at the viewpoint and absorbed the scenery before another short climb to a ridge that ran along the south face of Mount Jaizkibel. It was mainly through trees but in the gaps we had more views of the River Bidasoa and further on the Pasaia Bay where we heading. Just after leaving the Sanctuary we met a woman from Denmark who had arrived in Irun last night from Copenhagen via Barcelona she got to the albergue in Irun after 8 pm and it was closed for the night, she couldn't get in or find accommodation anywhere else; she spent the night walking round the streets of Irun until it got light and she was able to follow the yellow arrows.

The weather was looking very promising when we left with some clear sky showing on the horizon. It was wet underfoot on the ridge and we were moving along at a good pace. Unfortunately there was a shower of heavy rain after an hour and we had to don our waterproofs. It lashed down for about 15 minutes then stopped and the sky began to clear, it was a lovely day afterwards with the sun shining. About halfway along the mountain path my back began getting sore, we stopped for a rest, a drink, some biscuits and a couple of painkillers. I was all right for a while but it started to get sore again, much worse than before. With about a kilometre to go to the albergue at San Juan I couldn't go any further. Moira went on to book in at the albergue leaving me stretched out at the side of the Camino resting my back. The plan was for her to come back and take my rucksack down to the albergue; I waited for half an hour then began feeling better so started to make my own way down, I met Moira coming up with the good news that our accommodation was only round the corner, the bad news was it didn't open until 4 pm.

It was only 1:30 pm and we sat on the stairs outside the albergue door and had our lunch. I boiled water on the camping Gaz stove for coffee and we had toast that we made at the hostel this morning, with pate. It started to rain and the warden opened the door, he had been cleaning the place, took pity on us and told us to come in. So we were registered, paid (a donation) E15, had a bed, and showered by 2 pm. He had plenty of rules and regulations about taking our boots off before entering, putting our hiking poles in a special rack, no rucksacks on the beds, lights out and lights on times etc. which he rhymed off, better too many rules then none like last night. By the time we had settled in and changed the sun had come out again and most of the clouds had cleared. We decided to have a walk round the town.

The path along Passaia Bay

The port was split either side of the Passaia Bay and it the morning for the continuation of the walk we take a ferry across to the other side which appeared to be more industrial. There was a long stairway down from the albergue to the front and here it was mostly bars and restaurants. We continued through the large village square and on to an esplanade that headed out to the point. We didn't go as far as the point but found a nice bench and sat in the sun taking in some more magnificent scenery. We got into a conversation with an American woman who now lives in Paris with her friend a Parisian lady. The French lady jokingly said they were America's oldest ally in reference to the US Vice Presidents remarks after our Commons vote discounting taking part in a war with Syria. This led to a light hearted political discussion which I ended by saying “we were quietly sitting here admiring the view when you two came and started talking politics". We then parted the best of friends. We stopped at a bar in the square for a beer before heading back to the albergue where we lay in our beds for an hour or so.

It was about 7 pm when we made our way down the stairs again looking for a restaurant for dinner. There was a nice one in the square advertising 'menu of the day' for E10; that was all right for a three course meal plus wine. When enquiring we found that they didn't start serving until 'ocho' (eight o'clock). We went to the one where we had beer earlier and picked from the sort of snacks menu. I had pork fillets and croquette potatoes and Moira chose a pizza. To accompany our meal there was a bottle of Spanish Rioja wine. It wasn't bad for E18.

When we got back to the dorm it was straight to bed even though it was still early. We were very tired with little or no sleep last night then a strenuous walk. I tried to read for a while but my eyes were closing, no sooner had I put the iPad down but I was sleeping. I slept practically right through the night.

Day 4: Thursday 12 September.

San Juan de Pasaia to Orio: 25 km.

I was awake at 6 am having had about 10 hours sleep but Moira was still sleeping but got wakened by a couple in the next bunk getting up early, packing and setting off. The warden told us last night that he would waken everyone at 7 am, why they couldn't they wait another hour, it’s too dark to start walking anyway. When the lights went on we got up and were soon packed. We had some muesli with milk I had taken yesterday from the Youth Hostel, what was left the warden boiled in his microwave and we added a spoonful of instant coffee. That was our breakfast. My back was much better this morning; I treated myself with an anti-inflammatory suppository last night and again this morning. In case they didn't work Moira took some stuff out of my rucksack to lighten my load.

Ferry crossing over Passaia Bay

The first section of today's route, into San Sebastián, was truly magnificent. The coastal scenery was at some points out of this world, and the walking through stretches of woodland a joy. The first part was the trip to the other side of the bay, and the end of the channel where it met the open water was eerie in the early morning half-light. Once on the other bank we followed the esplanade out to nearly point where we turned and climbed a series of stairs to the top. All the way up we enjoyed outstanding views of both sides of the bay and the points where it came to the Bay of Biscay. We then enter a wooded area which was predominantly maple trees and the ground strewn with the recognisable maple leaves. Through the trees there were times when we caught glimpses of the coast and the surf breaking beneath the cliffs.
 

San Sebastian

 Further on as the path began to descend there was a view point that showed us San Sebastián in all its glory. There were the two large bays with the Rio Urumea separating them and the peninsula with Monte Urgull at the point and the statue of the virgin on top at the near end of the larger Bahia de la Concha. 

 

Monte Urgull

It was a steep drop down but some we were on the beach front where many sporting activities were taking place, volley ball, surfing and plenty of joggers and runners on the esplanade. We stopped at a bench for a rest and I got the cooker out and boiled water for coffee. Unfortunately there was no milk left and Moira mixed up a powdered variety that had been in the cupboard in Port Glasgow for ages. It didn't dissolve very well and the coffee was horrible, the only good thing about it was that it was wet. My back was feeling all right and holding up well. The plan was to stop in San Sebastián if it was bad but as it was OK we continued on for another 16 km to the town of Orio that had an albergue.

It began with a pleasant walk along the front of the first bay. There were lots of tourist out walking and enjoying the warm sunshine and in the beach sunbathers, children building sand castles and surfers attempting to walk on water. There was a more scenic route around the peninsula and the foot of Monte Urgull but the signpost said 50 minutes to go that way, so we took the more direct option through the town where we picked up a baguette and packet of soup for our lunch, at a Spar supermarket. Once over the bridge spanning the Rio Urumea we soon reached the esplanade of the Bahia de la Concha, it was a long walk to the far end with more holiday makers filling up the pavement.

There was a big hill at the point here but we didn't have to go that way the Camino turned to the left. It was on tar but it still climbed until we got to a ridge that ran along the hills above the coast. It was very undulating but there seemed to be a lot more ups than downs. There was a lot of woodland and underfoot it was a mixture between tarred roads, gravel tracks and mountain paths. We had a couple of stops, one in a housing area where somebody had put out a couple of chairs for peregrinos with a supply of water and a stamp for your credentials. At another point there was planks erected as a seat for the pilgrims and we met a young chap from Denmark who was busy collecting rubbish from the Camino and conversing with Mother Nature as he casually made his way to Santiago. We left him to his contemplations and the next time we had a stop, for a cheese sandwich and water we came across a guy from Brazil making his way to Orio as well.

After our final break it was a steep downhill and it was killing on our legs. We came to an underpass beneath the motorway then a steep climb up the other side to the suburb of San Martin. There was an old church and the signpost told us, 300 metres to the albergue, it was a welcome relief we were both very tired. The albergue was a private one, and offered evening meal and breakfast for E25 each, we accepted. Once a bed had been accepted, it was a shower then to the kitchen for our packet of soup and a cup of coffee. It was a pleasant situation with nice views of the hills we had crossed and down into the valley and the town of Orio sitting on the Rio Orio.

Orio and the Rio Orio

The dinner was very nice and there were nine of us seated along a big table. We had soup, chicken fillets with rice and mushrooms and finished off with baked apple and iced cream. There were the normal bottles of wine, one red and one white, not enough for all the people. The Brazilian chap came later but he only had the soup and dessert, he doesn't eat meat, and the Danish guy we met on the trail communing with Nature he sat and ate a carrot and rice cakes; he was offered a sweet but he didn't eat iced cream but had the baked apple.

We got to bed about 9 pm and read for a while before getting to sleep. The dorm was nice and quiet; everyone must have been tired after a hard day's walking.

Day 5: Friday 13 September.

Orio to Deba: 28 km.

It was misty when we got up and went for breakfast and it turned to rain shortly after we started walking. My back was feeling fine but to be on the safe side I dosed myself with another anti-inflammatory suppository. The breakfast was very good, yoghurt, toast with cheese and ham slices, an orange, plenty of coffee and Magdalena cakes that we put in our pockets for later along with some spare fruit. I asked the lady for some milk and she half-filled my water bottle, this was for coffee on the trail.

Our plan for today was to go the 6 km to the coastal resort of Zarautz then continue to another 10 km to the next main resort of Zumaia where there was a choice of three albergues. We were about 3 km from Zumaia all downhill to the finish having a welcome break at a nice church yard in Askuzi when a young German girl met up with us. She said that she was also headed for Zumaia as the next 11 km to Deba were very hard and she would leave that for tomorrow. After Deba it was 21 km to the next town with an albergue. I consulted the guide book and found she was correct, but I didn't fancy a short 11 km stint tomorrow; so as we were both feeling good for a change we decided to go further and make for Deba tonight. This was going to be a very long trek, about 28 km our furthest yet on this Camino.

We left the albergue at Orio at 8 am and it was a drop down to the town and the river. Before crossing the bridge we had a look around the town for a bank to draw some money but strangely couldn't find one. We crossed the river and the route took us up the other side before turning left and up the only hill before Zarautz, it was here that the rain came down and we had to stop to don our wet weather gear. It was a short climb and then a steep drop into the town of Zarautz. We couldn't find a bank there either and had to ask for directions at the tourist information office. Once solvent again we made our way along the waymarked route to the beach front. There is a lovely stroll on the esplanade to Getaria, the next resort nestled in the natural harbour of the headland Raton de Getaria. Halfway along the rain stopped and blue skies were developing; we found a seat in a shelter where I got the cooker going and soon had a cup of tea to go with a Magdalena cookie.

This route by the sea wasn't according to our map and seemed to be following the cycle alternative, but at Getaria it cut inland and picked up the main path at Akarregi. From there it was a mixture of tarred road and farm tracks on a fairly level profile until we reached Zumaria. This was another lovely little place on the banks of a river, Urola, as it entered the sea. We didn't hang about there and the track took us beside the river before beginning to climb steeply. We slogged up the long hill, in now very hot sunshine, until we came across a bench conveniently placed beside a water tap. It was the perfect stopping place and I soon had the cooker going. I had to take off my t-shirt to try in the sun, it was soaking with sweat. With our tea we had more Magdalenas and half an orange each, all taken from the breakfast table this morning. 

After our break it was a bit of a climb them some downhill. We met with a young girl from Switzerland and walked with her for a while. She had been travelling for 4 months in the Far East, Vietnam and China and was going as far as Bilbao. She had given up her job to travel but was hoping for phone call from Zurich soon with a new position. We were too slow for the girl as the profile again went up and she pushed on. She wasn't staying at the albergue preferring private rooms instead for more privacy.

There was a signpost indicating Deba, 6.3 km; a short while later, about 5 minutes another saying 6 km to go. We seemed to making good time and it mostly on tar or good farm tracks at this point. The route was close to the motorway and we crossed it, then later it went through a tunnel well beneath us. When we came off the tar on to a rough muddy uphill path there was a sign, Itziar 1 km; I thought this was the Basque name for Deba and we were nearly there. It was very disappointing when reaching the town to find it wasn't Deba by another name and we still had 3 km to go. I don't think the distance marker earlier was correct. Fortunately the remaining distance was all downhill and it helped when we could see Deba below us and something to aim for. Before leaving Itziar for the final stint we refreshed ourselves at the first bar with a glass of cool beer; it certainly helped.

We didn't need to walk all the downhill into the town, there was a series of two elevators that dropped us down to the town centre. When we were getting off the second lift we met the Danish woman getting on to go up. She said she was going to the albergue which was up top but we would have to go to the Tourist Info office to pay and get a key. She gave us directions and we made our way there, meeting two more familiar faces heading for the albergue; the French couple from the first night in Urrugne. It cost E5 each for the hostel and we were allocated beds. It was then up again in the lifts and the albergue was only 50 metres away.

Somebody was in Moira's designated bed and I had to get a warden to sort it out. There were two wardens officiating so I don't understand why we had to go to the Info office, couldn't they do everything. Once the beds were arranged we had a shower. The showers were double and we showered together in the gents. The water was lovely and warm with a good flow from the rose. The place appeared to be used as a kiddies' nursery during the day, there were tiny little desks and chairs and that was all we had to sit on. It wasn't very comfortable so we descended into town again to find a place to eat or a pub. Before that we did some shopping at the supermarket, a couple of apples and a bag of Magdalena cookies. Next it was to the Tourist office where the woman booked is into a private albergue at Markina, our next port of call. We had found the card for this place at the hostel. We couldn't find a restaurant open yet for a set meal so we picked a bar and had something from their menu. The bars seem to make food all the time. We had to start a huge platter of mixed tuna salad, then hamburgers and chips each. As usual we washed it down with delicious Spanish Rioja. The pub also had Wi-Fi and we got up to date with our email and I saved my diary to Google drive. At first Google wouldn't let me in and sent an email saying that somebody in Spain was trying to hack into my account and for safety to change my password; when that was done it worked as normal. 

Once we were finished our meal and done everything on the web we headed 'home'. We were very thankful of the easy method to the top of the hill and wouldn't have enjoyed walking up after a heavy meal. Once back it was straight to bed. It was a bit noisy until about 10 pm them they all got to bed, lights out and off to sleep. The only disturbance was the familiar chorus of snores.

Day 6: Saturday 14 September.

Deba to Markina: 22.5 km.

Everyone began moving about, just before 7am, and soon the whole place was up and the lights on. I got the cooker going and we had a cup of tea along with some muesli. The milk I got yesterday morning, at Orio, still tasted all right. We were on the road at our usual time of 8am. 

The Tourist office had given us a leaflet with photographs of points on the route where there were no yellow arrows and the directions we were to take indicated. We were both puzzled why they went to the expense of taking photographs and producing the pamphlet for all the peregrinos instead of buying a pot of yellow paint and going out and marking the route. The reason was in a way revealed when we got to the relevant points; the original yellow arrows had been covered over in black paint. There was probably some kind of dispute with the farmer about painting on his premises. Only one of the points wasn't clear from the photograph but a few more pilgrims caught up with us and after lots of discussion we decided on the way to go, fortunately it was correct.

Once down the lifts to the town we made our way to the bridge over the river. This was nice and flat but once over on the other bank we left the tar road and began to climb on a variety of surfaces from tar to concrete to gravel. It was a 248 metre ascent to a restaurant at Calvario de Maia. They were setting up stalls there for market and it was getting quite busy. There were some wonderful views of the hills with a covering of mist half way up and behind us we could still see the harbour at Deba far below. More stalls were being assembled on the roadside as we left the restaurant and it was also lined with large white crosses at intervals. It was a flat section initially now before dropping down to a beautiful valley and the tiny village of Olatz. There was a bench next to water tap, an ideal spot at the right time for a brew up. Unfortunately the milk had now gone off and I had to take my tea black.

Low clouds on the hills

After this welcomed break, to regain our energy required for the forthcoming climb; an ascent to 488 metres at Casario Kostolamandi; it was easy underfoot for most of the way on a concrete track but very steep in places. Moira was taking her very regular stops for breaths on this tough section. The one pleasant thing about it was the change to forest scenery. It was predominantly pine and at times we were waking on a carpet of fallen needles and the fragrance of pine was strong in the air. At the top of the ascent there was about a kilometre of flat ridge walking with breath-taking views of the mountains and valleys. Soon there was a fresh water spring with a nice shelter with seats. A lot of other trekkers were there and getting ready to leave after their break. I got the stove going again and it was more black tea and cookies.

Looking for a koala in the eucalyptus

Just after we left there was a signpost, Markina 9.3 km. I had estimated it about 8 km but that was near enough and it was mostly downhill. It was good fast going on a wide smooth track and we were making excellent time. There were some patches that were very muddy and that slowed us down a little. We were able to pin point where we were on our map with the names of farms that were actually marked. A bit after the farm Caserio Arnoate we came across this elderly woman in the middle of the path obviously in trouble. She had fallen when she slipped on a muddy section and had twisted her back. Luckily she was English, Liz from Winchester, so we were able to communicate. She was in a bad way, much the same as I was the other day with my back; when we got her going she was walking at an angle favouring one side of her body. Moira gave her pain killers and I carried some of her stuff and helped her on her way. We assured her we would stay with her to Markina and continued slowly on the trail. She thought about arranging for a taxi to take her and at a farm tried to make the woman there understand her problem. She couldn't get through to her so we continued hobbling along. It wasn't much further when there was a bench and she had to stop and sit down. I decided to offer her one of the few anti-inflammatory suppositories I had left and she accepted it; I turned my back while she did the necessary. Unfortunately these cures aren't instantaneous and she was still in great pain and it was slow going. At the next farm Caserio Atzorinzaba, she was more successful in making herself understood and the farmer's wife arranged a taxi to collect her at the main road, the woman then drove her to meet the taxi. We were also offered a lift but we are walkers and don't bail.

It wasn't all down to the finish and shortly after leaving Liz there was a tough little climb over some rough rocky ground. This was followed by a long stretch of very muddy slippery track with very little solid ground. If Liz had had to go on she would have found both these sections more or less impossible. It was now 3pm and I had promised myself a break half an hour previously but forgot about it due to the drama. We had it now before finding out that there was still nearly 4 km to go on a signpost. This was really all downhill and some of it very steep and jarring on our old knees. But we made it and were soon following the trail into the neat little town of Markina. When walking a coastal path you keep the sea to the right, when heading west, and then you know your direction is correct. Today being in the forest the ocean was rarely spotted so we were dependent upon the accuracy of those who had marked the route for a true heading; they didn't fail us.

In Markina we had to ask directions in a shop for the private albergue we had made reservations for last night. The woman in the shop spoke some English and directed us to the restaurant, Pitta that was on the card but it was closed. Moira went back to the shop to ask the woman to phone the lady while I watched the bags. She was some time and when she did reappear it was in the albergue lady's car. I got all the bags and gear into the boot to be driven 100 metres up the road to a block of flats. Our apartment was on the third floor and we had a private room with twin beds. There was a small dorm where one peregrino was sleeping and two more twin rooms, later another couple arrived.

We had a shower then Moira went to the supermarket for something to cook, there was a kitchen we could use. Unfortunately there weren’t any pots and pans, and the cooker didn't work. At least the microwave oven was operational and Moira was able to roast some chicken legs and boil broccoli to go with it. When we stopped earlier with Liz to negotiate a taxi the farmer had given us some peaches. They were a bit hard so Moira stewed them along with a few plums she had bought. We had this for dessert with yoghurt; there was enough of this fruit left for breakfast tomorrow. There was coffee and milk available so were able to brew a few cups in the microwave.

We were both very tired; it had been another hard day in the hills. Moira was in bed early and soon sleeping. When I came through she wakened up and we both read for an hour before turning out the light.

Day 7: Sunday 15 September.

Markina to Ziortza: 7.5 km.

Moira wasn't feeling too good this morning, sickly and shivering. The distance to the next major stopping point was 25 km and she didn't think she could manage that far. I was a bit tired myself and sore in my calf muscles. It was decided then to have an easy day, the only problem was it would be too easy; the only other accommodation on the route was at just over 7 km in a monastery in the middle of nowhere, Ziortza. 

We had breakfast of fruit, muesli and yoghurt so were quite refreshed when we set off as usual at 8 am. The profile today was relatively flat with any climbs short and not severe. The track followed the Rio Gola most of the way and was in woodland again, so no sign of the sea. 
 

Rio Gola

We only saw a couple of other peregrinos as we made our way along and one guy we kept pace with until we lost him at the village of Bolibar, I think he stopped at a bar for a coffee. It was then only another kilometre slightly uphill to the Cistercian monastery at Ziortza.

At the monastery there were a few peregrinos who had stopped to admire the church and were preparing to head off. The Brazilian guy from a few days ago turned up, he said the albergue was in the monastery and he was also staying tonight, he was suffering from bad blisters on his toes. Unfortunately the dorm didn't open until 3:30 pm, another 5 hours. We settled down for a long wait, it was dry and warm enough. I made a cup of tea on the cooker and we relaxed on a stone seat outside the church. To the side of the church entrance was the courtyard and cloisters with the walkway enclosed by a series of stone columns.

At mid-day there was a mass in the chapel and we decided to go, along with the Brazilian. The church was very plain except for the elaborate altar painting and sculptures decorated in gold. It was old inside and the domed roof was channelled with fine carving. As for the mass we didn't understand a word of what was going on and we were up and down ever five minutes. The good thing was the singing, chanting and organ music. When we came out the other lad spoke to a priest who said to see the monk in charge of their souvenir shop, who also looked after the albergue. It was good news he let us in straight away and we secured a bed. With our minds at ease about a place to sleep tonight we staked our claim on a bunk by spreading out our sleeping bags then headed back to Bolibar to find a restaurant.

It was an easy walk, now downhill and without a pack. In the square there a local directed us to a good restaurant / bar. He asked where we were from and I told him 'Escotia', he responded 'Escotia Libre'. That must be the new cry now with the Independence vote coming up next year: 'Scotland Free'.

We had a huge platter of tuna salad to start, we like the salads, followed by a fish dish with green peppers. I finished with a flan (cream caramel) and Moira had fruit salad. 'Cafe con leche' completed a quite expensive meal, E36:50, but the albergue is just a donation. Another peregrino was eating at the restaurant and he followed us up the hill to the monastery to stay the night there also. When we got in we lay down and had a snooze for a hour or so, the Brazilian was fast asleep as well.

Later three more walkers arrived, a girl and two guys, we found out later they were from Bulgaria. The girl spoke several languages and her English was very good. The man we met in the restaurant started to order them about as if he was in charge of the place, at least that was the impression we got, it was all in Spanish. After that two cyclists came along, I don't know where they slept there was only room for one more in the dorm. One of the monks arrived later with bowls of soup and bread; we didn't bother having had plenty at lunch time.

Everybody was in bed and the lights out at 10pm, it was surprisingly quiet. This didn't last, an hour later I was wakened by thunderous snoring by the guy from the restaurant. It is the regular snoring and its rhythm that you can eventually get used to, but this was a range of snorts and grunts and a variety of other sounds. It looked like there wouldn't be much sleep tonight. I got up to the loo and rattled a few chairs near his bed but it made no difference. I resigned myself to no sleep then suddenly he stopped and it was peace and quiet, I slept like a log.

Day 8: Monday 16 September.

Ziortza to Gernika: 17.5 km.

The lights were switched on at 7 am and everybody was looking to see who had done it. Then a monk appeared carrying a tray with a couple of containers of milk and a packet of biscuits. It was breakfast and time to get up. With plenty of milk available we had our muesli and coffee and filled up a small bottle with milk for our coffee later on the trail.

Monastery cloisters early morning.

It was a little earlier leaving this morning, 7:45 am and the sun wasn't quite up, as we got into the woods it was still dark in places. The first kilometre was nearly all through mud and not very enjoyable. When we came to the main road the route should have followed by the side of the Rio Gola but the yellow arrow was crossed through and we were directed onto the main road. It may have been too muddy or later we heard a chain saw so they may have been forestry work going on along the trail. The road had a few cars but not very busy, it was all downhill and dry underfoot now; it was 2 km to the next village of Munitibar and we made very good time; Moira was feeling much better now and striding out confidently again. 

At Munitibar we re-joined the proper course again and it took us all the way up a hill and down the other side. It was to take us to Capilla de Santiago, a church or sanctuary at the top of the hill but we didn't stop and hurried to the descent. At the bottom the official route was crossed again and it was more than 2 km this time on the road which was actually the cycling Camino; again it was downhill and I timed our pace, 11 min/km. At Olabe an old bridge took over the Rio Gola and we picked up the true Camino once more where we met the Bulgarian trio. They had ignored the signs guiding us on to the road and kept to the actual route, they said it was extremely muddy. We walked with them for a bit, they had done a lot of long distance walking in Bulgaria and cycling. After this walk they intend to go to France and cycle the Canal Midi. 

It was about 8 km now to the finish for the day and nearly all off road. It was slightly undulating but none of the hills long or tough. The path was mainly dry here with only the occasional muddy section where it was in the shade and the sun couldn't dry it. These muddy sections aren't helped by the number of cyclists on the trail, their tyres cutting deep ruts in the path. The route today when not on tar has been predominantly through woodland again where there is any cultivation it is vines for the local Rioja wine. Where we are now is a fair bit inland and we don't see the ocean again until after Bilbao, in another two days' time.

The last 2 km to Gernika were downhill on the tarred road again. I set Moira a good pace to get into the town before 1pm and the start of siesta time. We wanted to get there before the shops closed and pick up some bread and a packet of soup for lunch. We made it with time to spare; the supermarket didn't actually close until 1:30 pm. It was more of a job to find our accommodation and when we did then to contact the woman to come and let us into the flat. Moira texted and we got people who lived in another apartment to phone, eventually we got a message that her brother would be with us in 15 minutes. The flat was very nice, we had a double room for E30 and the kitchen was well stocked with the essentials. We had our soup and plenty of bread to dip in before getting showered and our laundry washed and hung out to dry. There was a TV but the channels were all in Spanish, I had been hoping for CNN or BBC World in English but no such luck. Later in the afternoon a French woman arrived, she had walked from Markina. Another three people turned up about an hour later and appeared to be with the woman; we spoke to a man and he was from Montreal, a French Canadian, so maybe they were all from that part of Canada.

It started to rain when the shops were opening again after siesta and Moira donned her rain jacket and went to buy something for dinner at the supermarket. She got chicken legs and we had a nice curry, somebody had left rice in the kitchen. We had wine and beer to wash it down then once the washing up was done tried the TV again. There were some quiz shows we watched and managed the language well enough to get a few answers correct. We were in bed early, the other people went out for dinner, I didn't hear them when they came back in.

Day 9: Tuesday 17 September.

Gernika to Lezama: 21km.

I wakened at 6am and made a cup of tea. We had it in bed and read for an hour before getting up for breakfast. It had rained during the night and was still drizzling when we left the flat. As usual with big towns and cities it is difficult to find the route and there seems to be a reluctance to paint yellow arrows around the town centres. We asked directions a few times and were put on the route only to find it was in the wrong direction, back towards Markina; Moira recognised where we had come into the town yesterday. At least we were now on the route and just had to turn round and head the other way. We met a South African guy from Cape Town who also looked a little lost; we helped each other to get out of Gernika. He had stayed at the albergue last night, it was a Youth Hostel, and they charged E18; we were cheaper in our comfortable flat. When the rain began to get very heavy we stopped to get our waterproof trousers on and he pushed on and left us. Our waterproofs were on for the rest of the day, the rain eased at times but never went off entirely and sometimes it was very heavy.

When we left Gernika the route went off road and climbed for about 6km, 4km of it on forest track. Fortunately this track was well drained and the torrential rain was channelled down the side of the track where it ran like a small stream. The ground here was also very firm underfoot and no mud. That wasn't the case later on where we had to contend with thick squelchy clay and our shoes got so wet and dirty that we gave up worrying about trying to avoid it. There was a lot of today's section on tarred roads and lanes, so where the mud slowed our pace we were able to make up time on these more solid surfaces. 

There weren't any towns or villages on the route until we came to Goikolexalde and Larrabetzu near the end. There were plenty of farms and at one about half way they had provided a water point. A few peregrinos had stopped for water and a drink, one was Liz who had the bad back the other day and who we helped. She was looking fit and well, her back fully recovered; I hope the suppository helped. She had taken a rest day in Markina to recover. She was heading off when we arrived and we didn't see her until later in the morning when we stopped for a coffee in Larrabetzu.

The route today wasn't at all interesting, nearly all through woodland and not helped by the weather. Over the last 4km from Larrabetzu to the albergue at Lezama it was along the main road to Bilbao. We walked with Liz and a guy from Lichtenstein. We were worried that the albergue would be full; Liz who stayed at the Youth Hostel last night said that there were many planning to stop at Lezama. We were surprised when we arrived there to be first in the queue for it opening at 3pm. I made a cup of coffee for us and Liz, the guy from Lichtenstein who didn't fancy albergues and snoring went to look for an hotel. A few more peregrinos arrived and the hospitelier took pity on us all sitting under the eaves of the building sheltering from the rain that he let us in half an hour early.

There was no messing, we found a bed and he dealt with the stamping of our credentials later. The showers were lovely and hot, and we felt much better out of our wet clothes and freshened up. The warden got the washing machine going to wash all the dirty laundry, and had a tumble drier as well. Not bad for a donation. The albergue slowly filled up and it was full by the time we were getting ready to go out for dinner. There was a menu on the desk for a bar just up the road for the Menu de Peregrinos at E8. We decided that was the place for us and Liz joined us.

When we settled down in the restaurant area of the bar another pilgrim, Walter from Switzerland, came in we invited him to join us. The meal was very good, Moira had the mixed salad yet again while I chose the Cuban rice which was rice with a spicy sauce and a fried egg on top; we shared our starters. For main course we all had the pork chop and chips, and the sweet was a chocolate thing with cream on top. The usual couple of bottles of Rioja were supplied. Walter was a bit of a bore, typical Swiss, self-opinionated and no sense of humour.

When we got back to the dorm it was straight to bed and we read for an hour before getting to sleep. There was a bit of snoring during the night but it was more rhythmic and not annoying.

Day 10: Wednesday 18 September.

Lezama to Altamira: 17km.

The plan was to walk through the large city of Bilbao and carry on to the only accommodation within reasonable walking distance, a Formula 1 Hotel in Barakaldo an industrial town about 14 km on the other side of Bilbao this would give us a long walk today of approaching 25 km. As it was a lot on tar and the profile looked flat then it wouldn't be so bad. Liz had agreed to join us and share a room at the Formula 1, the rooms took three people and the cost was E32. The plan was to call in at the tourist info in Bilbao and get them to phone ahead and book us accommodation there.

People were getting up from about 6:30am and moving about and packing but we stayed in bed for the extra half hour until the hospitelier turned on the lights. There was an electric kettle and I made some coffee, we had it with our muesli and yoghurt. Liz went to the bar for breakfast while we packed and fifteen minutes later she was back and we set off together.

I hadn't examined the map too closely and thought it was on the road all the way into the city. We were on the cycle path beside the busy road with the rush hour for about 4km. It was flat and easy going but after a bright start it clouded over and began to rain. We stopped and got our wet weather gear on, it was very warm and humid making us wetter with sweat that we would have been with the rain. The arrows then turned us to the left and we were under the impression it was on to a minor road but it kept climbing to some high hills. When we reached the top a signpost said it was 400 metres, the profile in the guide book set the highest point today at 100 metres. Liz had pushed on up the climb but I took it steady and waited for Moira who was having her regular stops for a breather. Once over the top the clouds cleared and the sun came out, we were back to shorts and t-shirt. It was a very steep downhill into Bilbao, much steeper than coming up and it was sore on our old knee joints. Near the cathedral there was a car park with picnic tables, Liz was there waiting for us. I got the cooker going and we had a cup of coffee before continuing.

Bilbao Cathedral spire

Bilbao, the capital of Biscay is the most populated of the Basque cities. It lies where several mountains meet and one of these is the Avril, the final climb before arriving at the Basilica of Begona, gives fabulous views over the valley. A series of steps, the Calzadas de Mallona come down from the fortified old town. The extent to which the Camino has influenced the city is shown by the Cathedral of Bilbao which is dedicated to St James the Apostle and by the Pilgrims Gate for those following the route to Santiago. Once down at the estuary that was much industrialised in the 19th century a clean-up has taken place and restoration of the fine old buildings. The Guggenheim Museum has had a huge impact on tourism and the locals were eager to point it out to us, obviously very proud of it. A walk around the estuary with its new monuments, the Euskalduna Conference centre and the recovery of the river banks shows that it has entered the new millennium.

The stairs to city centre

After the cathedral, the city centre was well below us and a long series of stairs took us all the way down. In the square at the bottom we were looking for yellow arrows in vain then consulted the city map we had to find where we were when a local Señor guided us to the tourist info office. It was a tiny tourist office for this size of city and they weren't at all helpful and refused to phone the Formula 1 Hotel, we decide to carry on anyway, it was a big hotel and there shouldn't be a problem getting a room. The city map in the guide book was very good at getting us on to the route again. It was along the river side to Puente San Antonio where we crossed the Rio de Bilbao and up the other side. Fortunately the climb on this bank was not like the one we had just come down, it was very gradual along a wide busy shopping district street. It was mid-day and Moira was talking about having a lunch today in a bar as we didn't know what would be available near the hotel. I consulted the map and found that where we left the city limits there was an albergue, at Altamira, we decided to have a look at it and stay there if it was opening soon. We would have walked 17 km by then which we reckoned was enough.

Old railway station, Bilbao

Riverfront, Bilbao

Old buildings riverfront, Bilbao

In another half an hour there appeared on the road along with the direction arrows other arrows with an A, showing the way to the albergue. It was well away and high above the city, it opened at 3 pm, another 2 hours. We decided to stay there and there were seats and shelter outside the door. I made more coffee and we had cheese, an apple and chocolate biscuits for lunch. The hospitelier arrived at 2pm and told us to use the showers below while she had the dorms cleaned. We showered and were let in half an hour early. The dorm was big and nice; there was a dining room for breakfast and sofas to lounge on; again very nice for a donation. Once we settled in and secured our beds we headed down to the nearest bar. Liz joined us; she wanted something to eat and had a sandwich there. We had a glass of Rioja, but only one, he was charging E2 for a glass. We returned to the albergue and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon.

At 5:30 pm we headed into the city to find a place to eat. There was a flight of stairs heading down on the road just before the albergue. We took these and were surprised at the height we had climbed. The stairs kept going down and down, when we levelled out on the road at the bottom Liz said she recognised the houses when we came up. I didn't think we were anywhere near that point and apologised when we came to the arrow with the A. Back on the road we took from the city we proceeded to look for a bar or restaurant serving meals. As is traditional with experience of Spain the reply was 'ocho', meaning they begin dinner at 8 pm. The thing I can never understand, especially when the economy is in such a precarious state, is when a customer puts his head in the door you don't grab him with both hands and make a plan about how you are going to serve him.

There was only one place open for business, Domino Pizza; they stayed open all day. We had the special of two pizzas for E14 between us and a couple of beers; it was very nice and satisfied our hunger. On the way back we bought a bottle of wine at a supermarket, only E2. We returned by the road and footpath, not the stairway, but now realised what a long steep climb it was to the albergue, again not corresponding to the profile in the guide book. In the dining room at the hostel the three of us settled down and enjoyed the bottle of Rioja before getting to bed. It was 9 pm and I lay dozing while Moira read, as soon as the lights went out at 10 pm I was sleeping.

Day 11: Thursday 19 September.

Altamira to Pobena: 27 km.

I wakened at 6am but lay quietly until 7am when's he lights went on. We packed then went through to the dining room where breakfast was included for our donation. It was a simple affair of orange juice, toast and coffee. We took advantage and filled up our bag with some coffee and topped up our bottle with fresh milk. Moira checked the weather and found it was raining so we were in our waterproofs right from the start. Liz joined us again and is good company, but she did a lot of moaning today about the route through busy towns and on tar.

The guy in the bar yesterday afternoon and the profile in the guide book said the same thing, flat all the way to Portugalete and on tar. The mostly on tar was correct but almost from the start there was a steep horrible hill to climb to the church of Sta. Ageda. Moira noticed a comment on the route map in our guide book, 'ascenso muy duro', the ascent very hard, and it was but not shown on the profile. 
 

Church of Sta Ageda

We were sweating in our rain jackets and trousers and glad when we reached the church and the top. From then on it was, downhill and slightly undulating with the occasional bump, on minor roads until we reached the towns of Retuerto and Barakaldo. It was time for our mid-morning coffee break but it was still raining and too wet to sit out boiling water. so into a bar in Retuerto and had a ‘cafe con leche grande’ each. Now the route was through busy shopping areas with lots of traffic about. At times it was difficult finding arrows when we came to a road turning but the locals were ever helpful and pointed the way to go. Barakaldo was the place we had intended making for yesterday and the Formula 1 Hotel. We found a huge shopping mall but no sign of the hotel, I suppose if we had asked somebody would have shown us where it was, but now it was immaterial. 

Once clear of Barakaldo the route picked up a combination cycle/walking track. This looked like it had been constructed quite recently and followed the motor way complex that ran from Bilbao to the car ferry terminal at Santurtzi, and on to Santander. It bypassed the town of Potrugalete where the original Camino went through and we missed the famous transport bridge, the Viscaya Bridge, now a World Heritage Site between Portugalete and Las Arenas. It was easy going on this track, comfortable and dry on our feet and only slightly undulating; the clouds were clearing and the sun was shining so life was pleasant once again. On this route there were picnic areas and at the first one we stopped for lunch. I had the cooker going for coffee and we finished most of the food we had left, cheese, apples, biscuits and a Magdalena cookie.

This wonderful track led all the way to our destination for the day, Pobena, and we had 9 km to go after our lunch break. We made very good time and reached Pobena albergue at 3 pm. It was quite full, where all the peregrinos had come from was a mystery, nobody had passed on the road; Liz suspected that some had taken a bus to avoid the towns and tar. All the bottom bunks were taken but the hospitelier made two of the younger walkers move up top and let us oldies have the lower ones. Next was a shower, there were only one double one and Moira and I shared. Then it was a cup of coffee and relaxing for an hour.

Beach at Pobena

Before getting to Pobena we passed through La Arena which was on the sea, our first sighting of the water for some time. Coming into Pobena there was a lovely bay and sandy beach as well, later Moira and Liz went there to paddle their feet which were feeling a little tender after all the asphalt we covered today. When they returned we walked to La Arena, the little resort a kilometre back. There were no food shops in Pobena so we went there to have a look but there were only bars, restaurants and hotels, though it did have an aire with four or five campervans parked. We decided to have a drink at one of the bars overlooking the sea and watched the surfers; there wasn't much of a surf, so not a lot of action. We walked back at 6 am and got ready to go out to a nearby bar for dinner, they served at 7 pm not the usual 'ocho'.

We were ten minutes early for dinner and we were told to wait. At 7 pm on the dot we were allowed into the dining room. The meal was very good, we all started with mixed salad, Liz was with us, and then I had sole and chips while Moira had chicken. The meal finished with an iced cream cone each. We had two bottles of vino tinto, all for E10 each. When we came out of the dining room to the bar the TV was on, it was a Europa League match, Valencia v Swansea, the Welsh side were 1-0 up. When we got back to the albergue it was straight to bed, I read for an hour then was fast asleep. The place was full and they had put mattresses down in the lounge for the overflow.

Day 12: Friday 20 September.

Pobena to Islares: 22km.

We were packed up shortly after 7 am and went to the bar where we had dinner last night for breakfast. They had advertised breakfast for E2:50 but it ended up to be only a cup of coffee and a croissant. There wasn't anything to put on the croissant and I had to get our jam from my rucksack

The beach at Pobena

The weather was looking nice and only a few clouds in the sky. There was a short climb up some stairs at the beginning to a tarred path on the cliff top. The route was an old railway track that was originally used for the transportation of minerals that was mined in the area, and there were some evidence of this activity with some remains of old machinery. Also there were lots of information boards about the mining, the flora and fauna, sea life and geology; unfortunately it was all in Spanish. The coastal views were not outstanding and in the morning half-light there was a bluish tinge to the photographs I took and the many ships anchored in the bay had a ghostly appearance.

Ships at anchor

 We assumed from the number of ships that they may have been waiting to get into the docks at Santurtzi to load or unload. The nice track came to an end when it turned in to cross a river at Onton. When we came out of the town there was a choice of directions, we were going to take the one that led obviously off-road but a local told us to take the N634 road to Castro Urdiales which was marked, he said it was only 7 km and easier. We didn't quite understand his easier as the road climbed steadily for about 4 km before dropping to the next river crossing and the town of Miono. Before reaching there we stopped at a bus shelter at Saltacaballo, just a house and a restaurant, for a coffee. After Miono we left the road and it was a nice track beside the sea, climbing first then dropping down, to Castro Urdiales. On the way into the town we stopped at a supermarket to stock up on food and wine, then at a bank to replenish our cash.

Unusual Camino waymark

Castro Urdiales was a nice coastal resort and the route took us along the front on a beautiful paved esplanade. There was a large harbour and marina with a multitude of yachts and at the far end an old castle and church. We stopped at a bench half way along for lunch, cheese, wine, an apple and biscuits. When we got going again there was a choice in the route with two arrows, we took the one leading to the end of the esplanade and the castle and church. Half way along some cyclists told Liz that this route was just to visit the castle and church, so we about-turned and took the other option. This took us on a steady gradual climb away for the town centre. After about another kilometre there was another decision with two arrows; we were going one way when a local shouted to go the other way which was to follow the N634 again.

It was on the road for another 5km to the town of Cerdigo where we joined up with the official Camino and went off-road again.
 

Islares

 It was a nice grassy path with the sea on our right until we reached the little town of Islares. The albergue was signposted and only a short distance off the route. There was only a trio of girls there and it was a matter of choosing our beds, they were triple stacked and luckily we were on the bottom with not a lot of head room. The warden came later to stamp our cards and collect our donativo. Next to arrive was an old acquaintance, the Brazilian that we last saw at the monastery in Ziortza, his name is Leo and he came into our dorm along with Walter and a young German guy, Kai, who has been keeping pace with us. Once we were showered and had coffee we walked up to the town to find out where the restaurant was. It was a lot of back and forth on the main road until we found an hotel. They wanted E14 for the menu and they didn't serve until 9 am. We went to a rundown bar and asked there if they did meals but only sandwiches but they had a little shop. Moira bought some pasta, tomato purée, bread and more wine. When we got back to the albergue it was home cooking and a delicious meal. We discovered that if we had walked a bit further past the hotel we would have found a cheap restaurant and a shop at the campsite.

We sat and read after I had done the washing up while Liz went for a walk to find out where the campsite, shop and restaurant were. Another German girl had arrived and was eating in the kitchen as well she opened a bottle of wine which was too much for her, so we helped her drink it. We got to bed about 9 pm, read for a while and were sleeping before lights out.