We left quietly in the morning and walked through the town. As luck would have it there was a bar just around the corner and we stopped for breakfast. While we were in there the patron from the hostel came in and said hello. He also said something about breakfast, turns out he had paid for our breakfast. I was touched and really glad when we passed him again later as we left, it gave me a chance to thank him.
As we walked along the prom a girl ran passed “Bora da” she said. Well we have heard so many languages in the past few days it took me a few moments to realize it was Welsh. She must have seen my welsh flag on the back of my rucksack. Too late to respond she was off down the prom at a pace far too fast for two plodders with 10kilo packs on.
The route out of San Sebastian was again fraught. The walk along the front is so wide, we had no way of knowing where the arrows would be. When we reached the end of the promenade we asked some guy. He sent us the right way but said “you must follow the arrows” I resisted the temptation to point out he was stating the obvious and just thanked him.
Now we could see the arrows they led us to a set of steps that took us again upwards. We passed another restaurant that was closed, but as we had walked away from the route we circled it and rejoined behind it. Then we saw a German couple we had been in pursuit of, they had stopped and were sitting down. When we got there we noticed a donetivo where we could get a stamp and some fruit. We stamped our passports and helped ourselves to an apple and orange, left some money and headed off again.
After another 9k of inland walking we arrived at Orio. Another nice port area, but this time they had a bridge so no ferry ride. We bought some bread and chorizo in the village and set off again.
After crossing the bridge and passing under some of Spain’s flying roads we came to a beach. Viv is not over keen on the sand thing so we sat on our pads in the grass. The beach was all but deserted except for one couple, too far away to see clearly, but they were obviously enjoying the privacy.
There was a hill to climb again as we were passed by two bikes. The second was obviously struggling and we passed him as he gave up on the hill. Viv felt sorry for him but I said he would fly past us on the other side. We gave him a round of applause when he did.
We arrived at Zarautz, I had a bad feeling about this place, it said in the book it has a Royal connection. Apparently the Belgian Royals came here in the early 20th century, making the place very popular. I was right, all the pensions seemed to belong to one family and they all charged 90e. So we walked on through.
We had quite a climb again, but some great coastal views, before descending 7k later into Getaria. Not a sign of any hostels here, we were left with no option but the Alburgue. As always seems to happen, everyone had taken the bottom bunks, the chairs were all occupied with rucksacks and the showers were not fit for use.
They did have food, at eight. Microwaved meals, a choice of lasagna or spaghetti. We walked into town in the vain hope of finding sustenance, all we got was beer and a biscuit in a confiteria. So it was back for microwaved spaghetti a can of beer and a disturbed nights sleep.
We would have to wash tomorrow and hope no one came too close.