Towards Santander

As well as the oldies we did see a nice wedding assembling outside the town hall. The bride was brought there on the handlebars of a bike by a friend. Great music was played on a super four plank glockenspiel and another guy announced her arrival with a blow on a horn.

The weather then decided to close in and we had fun dodging thunderstorms, using a rain radar app that covers Iberia and the lightning page that I frequently examine at blitzortung.org

So Saturday night was a little damp and that perhaps deterred a few revellers but it was surprising how many Spanish came to stay in their motorhomes, campers and even sleeping in their cars at the ‘aire’.

It was a great Friday / Saturday nights and on Sunday we continued the slow drive towards Santander. Yet more coffee and tapas beckoned after a steep walk down to the harbour at Elantxobe.

Later we stopped at a totally local bar/restaurant to eat the Sunday version of menu del dia which is, I think, the same as the weekday version but a little more expensive. That seems fair enough. Anyway we mixed it well with the locals and Google text translate was very handy once again.

Basque country

We stopped overnight just west of San Sebastián, on a site that that has a surprisingly good pool. The first surprise was that it has water in it and the second is that it’s an infinity pool and in a great position.

That other swimmer was watching Dawn’s perfect strokes enviously, as she glided across the sparkling water.

Next to us was this wonderful Mercedes Benz Marco Polo roadsurfer camper, driven by a young couple from Switzerland. I have to admit that a load of stuff went through my head when I saw them in it. Those thoughts were something like,

#expensive  #how  #young_people  #swiss and #why_couldn’t_I

Then they explained that although they were driving the top of the range AMG version, it wasn’t theirs. They had picked up a deal from the hire company, to drive it from Zurich to Bilbao. They had five days in which to do it and were then flying home via Mallorca. Now I felt #less_inadequate

We toured a little further towards Bilbao and stopped at an interesting coastal town. The buildings here show the very different style to elsewhere, with the emphasis on many small window panes. 

In the harbour was a tidal swimming pool that was getting a lot of attention, although it might not look so from the pic and also a strange breakwater across the ‘face’ of the inlet. On further investigation we found that this is a wave energy capture/ electricity generator. There was no information showing numbers, so I no idea as to its effectiveness.

Then we arrived at Lekeitio for the weekend and were very lucky to find a place in the highly controlled ‘Autocaravans Parking’. The reason for wanting to stay in another place that is better suited to sealed up motorhomes and not a Landy with a canvas roof, was so that we could walk in and out of town easily. This was a great decision as it is only a 10 minute stroll into the port area.

We spent two nights here and felt as if we got to know the place a little. Even a barman nodded when we went in for a second or third time. I presume he remembered my attempt at Spanish. They are very very patient and really allow you to try.  Google translate is my constant prompt.

It even works with Basque which is just as well as it is nothing like Spanish. This is a flag but I’m still not sure of its message.

There’s great swimming from the beautiful town beach and the water was warm and so easy to get in. At the back of the beach is a thoughtful boardwalk with freshwater showers. These even have a low tap and footrest so you can properly sort yourself out.

I think that the barman remembered us as we got a taste for their tapas.

After a quiet night at the parking it got busy the next morning with the arrival of a large number of coaches out of which piled a very large number of the older person set, all wearing bright green neckerchiefs 

One guy seemed to think it was ok to relieve himself behind ‘next door’.

I’m aftraid that I got cross and shouted at him. We got our own back by racing ahead into town so that we were at the bars before them!

From what I could workout from the words on their neckerchiefs, this is a club of retirees from elsewhere who today, of all days, when it’s our day here, have also come to this place. Their main activity is to sit on a coach for too long, then pee in car parks, fill every table in every bar and then eat a meal in a huge tent on the harbour. Finally they go back to the car park and try to pee before getting on the coaches and making the place quiet again.

Unfortunately I had such an effect on the guy in the photo, that he saw me that evening when we were back at the car park and came and asked if he could pee next to us again. I said no and directed him to the non-camper-van area at the other side.

Bujaruelo and Valle de Otal

By popular demand we returned to the Bujaruelo valley and the campground at the head of it. This is tucked under the western side of the Monte Perdido massif, the highest in the Pyrenees.

It is a special place, accessed by road only from the south. This gravel and stone track which takes about 20mins to drive is very bumpy in the Land Rover but at least it is made for it. Last time we visited in 2018,  we were surprised at how many cars and campervans make it here. It must be a bit of a risk as there are some hard, stony lumps and gravelly looseness, which must be hard to handle carefully with a low slung vehicle and road tyres. The river is glacial!

There’s a walkers’ hostel here with good food but we didn’t eat here this time.

At night it was very dark and cold. There’s nowhere for the cold on the mountains to go, other than fill the valley. It’s a little like Buxton in that respect.

The book of walks showed one directly from the campsite and the next day we had the delight of an easy tramp over the beautiful stone bridge, along the river past the cows and up a gravel road to the north west. This somehow got us up the valley side and onto the alp, which is the sloping pasture above the steep valley walls.

From there we walked over the lip into a geologically perfect glaciated valley, hanging above the main one. This is Valle de Ota and it is in total contrast to the valley below.

It is a classic U-shape, with a wide, flat bottom through which a river runs, meltwater direct from snow still on the north-facing crags to the side.

We walked along here to the refuge, Cabin de Ota, a two ‘room’ building with and open window through which a robin flew to a nest on the window cill.

A little further along was a nice waterfall, almost the headwaters of the river and there we had lunch, looking back from where we had come.

It was yet another 16Km / 10 mile walk but this one was easy.

On the way back along the high valley we kept stopping, trying to see Marmots. These look like beavers crossed with badgers and live in burrows usually under a rock. They whistle very loudly but each one sounds identical to the others. This means that they appear to be one animal or bird that’s flying around. They are hard to locate and in actual fact keep very still, blending into the background, looking like a rock!

No photos but we did see some.