No Room at the Inn

This is the Basque Country portion of Spain. Based on the signs, graffiti, posters etc even though tensions have eased in the last five years or so, tensions are still there. 

The inside of the church at the monastery that was so incredible. 

Many log decks, trucks, and other indicators that this is definitely an an area of timber production. 

On the edge of Guernica I could hear the clapping and cheering. It was a good crowd for a handball game. It’s obviously popular here. 

I continued past Guernica and up to an albergue for the night, but, all the beds were full. They had a backpacking tent I could set up if I was willing. Heck yes I was willing. Then they said they didn’t have enough food and I would have to feed myself. Also not a problem:).  

To a Monastery Instead

The trekking today took me away from the ocean and beach views and through timber production areas.  Log decks, skid trails, many different species being harvested. Many non native species such as eucalyptus, coastal redwood, and a pine tree that looked familiar but I wasn’t sure of. A local was walking along the trail and we talked in my broken Spanish. I got out of him that it was Pinus Radiata, Monterey Pine…a California tree:). 

Arriving in Markina-Xemein it was time to eat. I was with  the two younger guys, one from Russia and the Netherlands, and the other from Switzerland.  Neither speaks Spanish.  I helped them and did the ordering.  Unknowingly I ordered WAY too much.  OOPS.  The mass of fish soup alone could have fed us all. 

They served an appetizer spread for the bread. I thought it was okay, then I found out it was pâté.  If I would have known what it was I wouldn’t have eaten it.  

I made it further than planned. Instead of stopping at the planned Markina-Xemein, I

kept going and finished the day at a monastery run albergue. The church site has been there about a thousand years, the church itself is ~600 years old. When the priest checked me in he said services are at 7:30, they then serve dinner at 8:00. 

I almost didn’t go to the service, but I’m so glad I did. The rock, large, beautiful church was amazing. Probably most amazing was the acoustics. The organ, and their singing, was wow. There wasn’t much speaking, and everything was in Spanish. They blessed the peregrinos on their pilgrimage. I could figure out most of the words of the songs and prayers, at least close. 

Zarautz to Deba

 

Incredible scenery the entire day. The trail has pretty much followed along the coast up to the end of today. Next it will go more inland and the views of the ocean will go away for a while. 

There was a church built in the year 600 on the trail today. I tried to get in, getting the key from a helper in an adjacent kitchen/building next to the church. It seemed for a bit one of the keys would work, but they didn’t. It needs some repairs, but was impressive.  I did get a stamp from that church for my pilgrimage passport.

I met up with my 73 year old friend, Peter, on the trail today. It was a fun reunion:).  I’m reminded of my Etna friend, Peter, who joined me for 100 miles of my PCT adventure. Both are people who are older than me, work to stay in great physical shape, and keep going strong. 

I’ve been hiking mostly with my 27 year old Russian/Holland friend, Gleb. He split off today to do a side trail with some incredible scenery. I didn’t have the energy to get off the main trail. I’m glad I didn’t. I was tired enough by the time I got to the albergue in Deba. I didn’t arrive in time I had to use the backup registration process. Gleb arrived after me, exhausted too.

He’s more of a food connoisseur than I. I’m eating fancier stuff such as octopus, squid, the Spanish style ham of this region which is really good, and quite a few things that I’m not sure what they were. My Spanish (nor the Basque language) isn’t as good as it should be.  I don’t know what I had for dinner, even though I ordered it. The plate was piled high, and it was inexpensive, that’s all that mattered. This area is apparently known for it’s cheesecake. I know what that is, and it’s good!

This albergue has about 80 beds, and it’s full. I ran into a pilgrim at this albergue who I stayed with at the private hostel my second night. He’s probably in his late twenties, and works with at-risk teenagers in Switzerland. There were only three guys in the room at that hostel. And he ate at my table. The most emotional night of this pilgrimage so far involved him. 

After we had dinner, after I pulled the Roses, Thorns, Daffodils, and Buds idea to ease awkward tension just the four pilgrims remained at the table. A middle aged German woman suggested another “game.”  On a scale of ten, rate how you feel physically then mentally, about today. Then, if you want, tell why. The two German women and I did ours.  When it came to him, he gave his numbers, then sobbed. 

It was really good to see him. 

A fun experience happened on the trail. I haven’t been meeting any Americans on the trail, and was lamenting that fact. Walking down the trail/small road two Asian women were standing. The older one (older than me!) said hello (that was a hint) and asked where I was from. She was excited when I said America. She’s from San Francisco. In the conversation she asked my name, I said “Ken Harris” and she and her daughter started laughing hysterically. Her first name is Ma. Her last name is Harris. I met Ma Harris on the trail. 

I’m averaging about 15 miles a day, and it’s challenging. Nine years ago I was able to do 20 mile days relatively easily and even did five or six thirty mile days while hiking the PCT. Those days are done. Training for this I did seven days of ten plus miles. It wasn’t enough. From experience I know that with time the muscles will stop hurting. It would be nice if time would speed up. 

I lost my right hearing aide today. I need to find a way to tie hearing aides to my head. 

Buen Camino

Navigation App Needed

 

Morning breakfast was as small as before. When asked if I wanted Spanish coffee or American coffee, I was in Spain, why not Spanish coffee. It was about the size of a shot glass. As I was sipping this tiny bit of coffee from a shot glass with a handle I felt like I was playing with the toy tea set with my granddaughters. From now on, it will be American coffee (Café Americano) for me. 

San Sebastián was about an hour into the hike and it is a very nice touristy place. While there I bought a cap to protect my increasingly balding head, ate two more  breakfasts, and two cups of American coffee. This city is stunningly beautiful, but, a bit expensive looking at many of the shops etc. 

It appears to be more challenging for me to stay focused on staying on the trail in cities than in rural areas. In other words, I took some unplanned extra steps. We’ll call it sightseeing. When I ask, there’s a wide variety of opinions as to which app to use. 

After leaving San Sebastián, headed toward Zarautz and my hopeful tie in with my new/old German friend Peter, I met a 27 year old hiker from the Netherlands, originally from Russia, who had a trail navigation app a technosaur like me can use. When I got to WiFi I immediate bought it. He’s on a short hike and has to go back to work in his tech job. I hiked with him all the way to Zarautz and we made really good time. He wanted to work on his English,  so we chatted a lot. He spoke no Spanish at all.

I’m amazed at how few Americans are on the Camino thus far. There are so many from Switzerland, Brazil via Italy, Germany, Belgium, Korea…it’s really fun to meet so many folks from everywhere and learning about their countries. 

When I arrived in Zarautz the albergue I planned to stay at was closed. The hostel my new Russian/Holland friend had a reservation at was full. I stayed at surf training school hostel situation. It worked out well, but I was at lest double or triple the age of everyone else there:)

San Sebastián-Not Quite

 

The pilgrimage started in an inauspicious way.  I saw a yellow arrow, a symbol of the trail, and all was well:). I knew all I had to do was go up this road to the roundabout, go left there up the canal, and all was well. 

I did just that. There was a major road, next to it behind concrete barriers was a two way bike path, and a hiking path next to it. I started walking, looking at wonderful vegetable garden plots behind the houses, thinking about the wonderful weather, and how perfect this Camino was starting. After about twenty or thirty minutes I realized I hadn’t seen a yellow arrow since the roundabout. I took out my book with my map, and soon thought I had made a mistake somehow, but wasn’t sure. 

About that time a bicyclist was coming by, and it was time for me to use that Duolingo Spanish practice from the last couple of years. I said,  “Disculpe, creo que estoy perdido”. I didn’t understand every word, but he pointed back toward where I had come and said, “izquierda…puente …izquierda.” Then he pointed up the hill and said “iglecia”. The iglecia (church) was on the map, shown to be along the trail. 

I went back the way I came, turned left (izquierda) went across the bridge (puente), then turned left (izquierda) again… then I was in great shape. When I was on the real trail I was blown away at how many yellow trail markers there were. Now I could see how people say it’s easy to not get lost on this trail. 

There were trails up both sides of the canal at the roundabout. I had walked up the wrong side of the canal. Now that I was really off on this pilgrimage life was good:)

The church on the ridge line was gorgeous (see picture). 

There are three options for portion of the trek from Irún to San Sebastián. The low route, the coastal variant, or the main route which is the high route. I had read to take the low or coastal route if it’s bad weather because you can’t see anything anyway. But, if it’s good weather, take the high route, even though it’s harder, because the views are so spectacular. (Does anybody else see the metaphor there with the high route being harder but better?). 

It was perfect weather, the views were out of this world. Because this is right on the border with France, nearly all the local hikers greeted us with “bonjour”, and not “hola” or “buen camino.”  There was a lot of talk about how far folks could see up the French coastline, and how pretty Irún and the adjacent towns are. 

Most things were great, there was one minor glitch (in addition to the hike up the wrong side of the canal).  In the morning the Albergue served breakfast. The definition  of “breakfast” can differ wildly. A piece of bread, and jam, and maybe another piece of pastry and a cup of coffee is breakfast…according to some customs. Suffice it to say I didn’t eat adequate breakfast. I knew there was a place to eat somewhere along the trail. 

I got to that place along the trail at about 2:00 p.m.  Pasajes de San Juan and it is unimaginably beautiful. More importantly, it had two open restaurants. I ate a lot:). In addition to other food they had a great fish soup. Even though the fish soup was spectacular…Theresa’s is still the best I’ve ever had. 

After eating and rejuvenating, I took the ferry across the water and continued on toward San Sebastián, my goal for the day. Immediately after the ferry crossing I met up with an experienced pilgrim from Germany named Peter. He’s 73. He had hiked other Caminos and was a wealth of information. The problem with Peter was, he walked faster than me. I wanted to keep up because he knew so much and was willing to share. 

He kind of kicked my butt. A few miles outside of San Sebastián on a very rural stretch of mountain road was a panaderia (bakery) sign. Peter suggested we stop. I was all for it because I was tired. In addition to baked goods they had a hostel there. It wasn’t shown on his app or my book. I decided to stay, Peter went ahead and we hoped to meet in Zarautz, in the albergue, the next night. The old guy beat me, I couldn’t keep up with him. 

They fed dinner at the hostel. There was an awkward moment at the table with the proprietor and one of the pilgrims. It seemed like a good time for me to introduce them to “Roses, Thorns, Daffodils, and Buds.”  We went around the table with everyone telling their rose (good thing), thorn (bad thing), daffodil (surprise), and bud (the thing they’re looking forward to. 

For a few of us the thorn was the hot water heater was broken, so we had to take very cold showers. I know my shower was very cold and very short. One of the pilgrims hadn’t taken a shower so had a different thorn. 

About an hour after dinner she came bounding out shouting “I have a new rose, I have a new rose, I have a new rose!”  They had been able to fix the hot water heater and she was going to have a hot shower. 

There was good, meaningful discussion after dinner, in addition to the goofiness I shared:)

Becoming a Peregrino

 

The flights from Lisbon, to Madrid, to San Sebastián Airport were easy and uneventful. Those are my favorite types of flights:)

Instead of taking a bus, I walked to the town of Irún from the airport. When I arrived at the albergue (a hostel for peregrinos) hadn’t opened yet. It doesn’t open until 4:00 p.m..  I went to a small local restaurant and had great food, then decided to walk to France. I’ve never been to France, so I thought I’d better take advantage of the opportunity. Being in three countries in the same day is a new concept for me:).

A Peregrino is a pilgrim. This albergue is entirely for peregrinos.  I was able to get my credentials (passport) for the trek, as well as the traditional shell.  This particular albergue has twenty bunkbeds, in two sleeping rooms, as well as showers, kitchen, communal visiting rooms etc.  It’s well organized, and there are peregrinos are from all over the world.  I’m surprised that at the albergue I have not met another American.  I’ve met a Belgian, an Argentine, quite a few from Germany, one from Korea, and some with accents I can’t place.  Lots of languages are spoken:)

My simple explanation of what a pilgrimage is, it’s a walk with a purpose.

One tradition of the Camino de Santiago is to carry a shell  a shell is the symbol of the trail. They had shells at the Albergue for those like me who didn’t bring a shell from home. 

Some last minute shopping, sunscreen, nail clippers etc, and I’ll be ready to actually start tomorrow:)

Cascais, Portugal

The beginning of my journey has been a wonderful three day vacation in Cascais, Portugal with my daughter, son-in-law, two granddaughters, and a close family friend.  I was hoping to take care of jet lag in these three days, and have been fairly successful. 

I have never been to Europe before, and I’m being spoiled here. Cascais is beautiful, the weather is ideal, scenery is great, and people have been kind. We’re also staying in an awesome AirBNB. Tomorrow, Tuesday the 25th, I will fly out of Lisbon on a flight that will get me (with a stop in Madrid) to San Sebastián Airport in north east Spain. The rest of clan will stay in Cascais to enjoy it more. The visit to Sintra and real castles today was well worth it  

The owner of the AirBNB left his Jaguar behind. Unfortunately he didn’t leave the keys behind;) 

I’m a little nervous, and excited, traveling alone in a country I’ve never been to.  After these last few days I feel better about being able to get by with the language barrier. 

My plan for this hike was to not over plan  I did that quite well.  We’ll see together how this works:)

I’m a technosaur.  You can expect errors on this blog.