Our first morning walking did not start well.
First we needed our starting stamp. this could only be obtained at the Cathedral. We found the Cathedral easily enough and once inside we found where we would obtain our stamp, but there would be no one there until nine thirty. So we crossed the road and had some breakfast. We had something resembling eggy bread with sugar on it. Apparently a specialty of these parts and quite tasty, set us up for the morning.
Back in the Cathedral we got our stamp and the guy gave us lots of information, but I am afraid most of it went over our heads.
His first bit of advice was to keep going right. We soon realized this was not going to help us, we got to the river and had we turned right we would have been headed back along the coast, so we followed the river.
The trouble is we did not know if we were following it the right way. I still have not got the hang of the GPS, but after about a kilometer we saw a sign for Biarritz.
There were no waymarkings so we were on our own here. Anyone who knows this coast will know that it turns out into a peninsula. We did not. Following the coast added miles to our journey. Biarritz just seemed to get further away.
Eventually we realized the error of our ways and turned inland, but too little too late we would not make Hendaya today.
We had started the day much later than we hoped and now the distance was growing. We should have got to Biarritz in 7.5kilometers by the time we had passed we had done more than fourteen. Welcome cup of coffee here, but the intermittent rain meant I struggled with my rain cover on the rucksack every time we stopped.
We reached Bidart at 20k and it was time to look for a bed. We were passed by a dutch man on a bike, he seemed to know where he was going, so at least we were on the right road. He stopped at the tourist office for a stamp so we did too. Just as well as we never got one in our hostel later.
They gave us directions to a hostel, but when we arrived it was all shut up. Open again at eight. Tired as I was, I was in no mood to sit outside on the pavement for two hours only to be told it was full up. So we rested a while on their seats and then headed on.
The next little village was also part of Bidart but did not look like it had much going for it, but appearances can be deceptive.
In the village we asked for a hotel or pension and someone directed us back the way we had come and then to the right. We found a very reasonable place with a spacious ground floor room and plenty of space to spread our stuff out.
We found a bar in the centre and for the first time came across this problem; no food until eight. The staff were very helpful though explaining what each item was on the menu. The food was good when it came, and the place was filling up well. Seems to be the local stop off HOGs. I suppose the, usually, good weather makes it ideal for your average Harley Davidson. Certainly non seemed to have travelled far.
We bought some croissants and drinks for the morning in the village shop, then it was off for a good nights sleep.