Basque Country
Some of our best routes were uncharted. This happened again as we left the well- trodden Camino and headed north. We got on some spectacular backroads and were delighted that they were paved. We’d had it with gravel for awhile.
Below: John picks a jersey pocket full of peas for dinner from a crop along the route. We didn’t think the farmer would miss them.
I have a vague memory of learning about the Basque culture in high school French. I expectedv sheep on grassy hillsides. Instead the motif was industry and multi-family housing in high rises. But the hills were there too, providing stunning scenery. The Basque people are autonomous from Spain and their language—Euskara—considered the most isolated in the world, has puzzled historians, linguists and us; their words, rife with X’s and Z’s, defy pronunciation. The Basque architecture is unique with reds and whites and chalet windows framed by inset rocks. We met people who didn’t speak Spanish.
We had our first downpour. There would be more.
Saturday morning after coffee, we stumbled upon a multicultural festival and giant puppets doing a minuet to a live orchestra. Unlike the quiet towns of Portugal and Spain, we hit the mother lode of activity in the parks and on the trails of the Basque towns. Maybe its the apartment lifestyle that gets families outside. We notice kids actually playing—and not on screens.
It was another hilly day featuring one huge mountain—5 exhausting miles up, and 7 epic ones down. On to the still-hilly Basque Coast. After one walk-up hill that included some crude gravel paths at 20% plus grades, a woman stopped us, offering cider and anchovies. A welcome break where we each ate exactly two anchovies— the second to hide our distaste of the first. Our host had noticed an uptick in cyclists on this little-used path and wondered why.
Our destination was Getaria, a picturesque hill town perched over the Bay of Biscaye aka the Atlantic. The water is clear and inviting so we swam off the salt and weariness. We met more pilgrims— turns out, we were on El Camino Norte Route. Familiarly, we got beds at an albergue. Then walked into town to hear a reggae band and hang with the younger set crowding the town deck. We joined them for beers before sitting for the special way fish is cooked here. Our table looked out over a cozy harbor and we pictured our boat friends pulling in.
We were overdue for a rest day and with only 20 miles to get to the Basque city of San Sebastián, it looked like we would ease into it. Nope. They were 20 of the most frustrating miles yet. Our course took us up and down unridable roads. We went under the grapevines of vineyards and into deep mud. It was time to try a new map app like aptly-named one Laurie told us about: the Map App.
Below: The architectural style that lets you know you are in the Basque country
We liked the city instantly with its packed beaches, surfing, wide promenades, canals and pedestrian streets. For our layover day, we got an airy room that had a balcony and a shared bath. Go figure—our favorite days of the bike trip are the ones where we’re not riding. A vacation from traveling. 😆
