Hola a tothom!
I'm overdue for a blog update, and now is a good time since I just got back yesterday from a week-long adventure of backpacking on the Camino de Santiago, originally a pilgrimage route through northern Spain, during my spring break! I could write pages about it, but I'll try to hit the highlights based off of the journal I kept while we were walking. I went with my friend Hallie, and we left Barcelona early on Sunday morning, the 5th, headed for San Sebastián, a lovely little city in País Basco/Basque Country/Euskal Herria. It was about a 6-hour train trip, which wasn't too bad, as it was really interesting to watch the landscape change from the Mediterranean climate of Catalunya, through the pre-Pyrenees, then through a big flat, dry area around Zaragosa, and finally into the green, mountainous País Basco. Hallie and I played a lot of gin, which ended up being a sort of theme of the trip. We got into San Sebastián around 1:30 and, after finding our hostel, explored the city for most of the afternoon. It was a shame that it was kind of cold and gray, as the beach was gorgeous. In the process of looking for their version of Plaza Catalunya so we could take a picture of ourselves in front of the sign (yes, we are ridiculous), we accidentally found a concert of sacred music going on in a nearby church. We sat and listened to most of it, which I really liked and which felt very appropriate for the beginning of a pilgrimage during Holy Week, after all.
We got up early again Monday morning, made ourselves toast and coffee at the hostel, stopped by a grocery store to stock up on provisions, and officially set out. After climbing a big hill out of the city and passing by an old amusement park that looked abandoned, we quickly found ourselves hiking through absolutely beautiful countryside along the sea. We followed a mix of small paved roads and muddy paths between pastures, occasionally passing by sheep, goats, and horses, which watched us curiously, always coming back to the Atlantic on our right. We stopped on top of a hill for a lovely picnic of bread, cheese, apples, and dried fruit (which was delicious at the time but got pretty old after 6 days of eating basically the same thing). One of the best moments of that day was when we found a sign along the side of the road that said, "Santiago 787 km." Just as we were looking at it, a car drove up and stopped, and a woman that turned out to be German got out excitedly to take a picture. She gestured at it and asked us in enthusiastic if a bit uncertain English, "Go you to Santiago??!" I laughed and replied, "No, to Bilbao!" She said back, "Ah, Bilbao...", seeming both relieved and a little disappointed.
We camped out that night in the "Gran Camping Zarrautz", overlooking the ocean and the town of Zarrautz. Of course, it rained, but our tarp held up pretty well. We felt both kind of silly and hardcore, as the majority of spots in the campsite were taken up either by RVs or enormous tents with many useless accessories like porch overhangs. We did have a great view, though...! The next day started out rainy, unfortunately, so, given a choice of two routes, we decided to take the one that went through the town of Getaria, where we hoped to take a break, dry off, and get coffee. Sadly, getting to Getaria involved about and hour and half of walking along the side of the highway in the rain, with cars zooming by the whole time. However, once we got there, we did in fact find coffee, which was in an adorable little café with a heater and a nice lady used to cold, wet pilgrims. Overall a wonderful experience. After we left Getaria the rain let up some, which was really nice, though we still got caught in a few sudden downpours as we wound our way up among more bright green hillsides and tiny towns. We got to our destination for the day, Deba, fairly early, after a long, ridiculously steep downhill stretch that actually ended in an outdoor, public elevator down into the town. Theoretically there was a hostel, but we had read that it only had 6 spots, so we were doubtful as to our prospects. However, we went to ask at the Information Office, and then, following instructions since it was closed, at the police station. They told us that, luckily, there were beds left in the "Frontón," a sort of auxiliary space to the hostel, and gave us the key. We explored the town, which was very cute, ate oranges in a plaza, had an old lady try to teach us in Basque how to use the fountain in the central square, and then spent a very happy night on bunk beds with a nice French man named Daniel for a roommate.
We set out optimistically on Wednesday after coffee and pastries in town. The beginning of the day was nice, though there was a lot of uphill. However, after lunch we had to go down all that we had come up, which was problematic since we both had really sore Achilles' tendons and my knees were starting to hurt. There was once particularly miserable stretch of going down a muddy road, too steep to comfortably stop and rest, through a sea of thorn bushes, for about an hour and a half. We were in low spirits when we arrived at the town at the bottom, Markina. After unsuccessfully looking for a public bathroom and/or pharmacy, we settled on a café, where I ate a mango ice cream bar and then felt somewhat revitalized, despite the odd looks we were getting. We didn't stay long, mainly because of the terribly pop music they were playing, but we did feel better afterward. Also, the trail got a lot more bearable and pretty after Markina. After going through a few more cute towns, including the birthplace of Simón Bolivar, we got onto a very cool, 17th-century stone pathway called a Via Crucis that led up up the hill to the monastery of Zenarrutz. That night we stayed in a hostel run by the monks, which was incredibly idyllic, except for the fact that one of our fellow pilgrims snored incredibly loudly all night... what can you do? :)
We set off Thursday morning after a breakfast of bread and coffee brought to us by monks and a few intents desmuntats (unsuccessful attempts) at making a pilar de 2 in front of the monastery on Hallie's and my part. The weather had turned perfect again, which was really happy. We knew we had a short day, so we planned on getting lunch when we arrived in Gernika around 3. In the meantime, we stopped for "brunch" around 11:30 at an amazing beautiful spot on top of a hill, looking out over the countrysie, with an old stone tower on one side and a view of the sea in the distance. After picnicking on an apple, a bit of cheese, dried figs, almonds, and cookies, and sunbathing for a while, we reluctantly headed back down to the trail. As expected, we arrived in Gernika around 3 - 3:30. Everything was closed until 4, so we hung around a bit and ate ice cream, then went to the Tourist Information Office to ask if we could leave our backpacks there for a few hours, which we were, sadly, denied. Next we went to the Museo de la Paz (Peace Museum), a pretty interesting museum half about the history of the town and its bombardment during the Spanish Civil War and half about the concept of peace in the modern world, specifically in Euskadi (Basque Country). I was really glad we went.
Our challenges began when we realized we had stayed at the museum longer than we'd meant to, so we hurried out to buy food, since our plan was to camp out somewhere just past the city, rather than stay in the hostel there, which looked kind of depressing. However, we quickly realized that there were no supermarkets open at all, as it was a holiday. After debating what to do, we decided to buy some breakfast food in a bakery and then find a bar that would make us a couple of sandwiches to take with us for dinner. No problem there, but by the time we were finally headed out of town, dark clouds were building up on the horizon, a stiff wind was blowing, and rain seemed eminent. Also, we lost the trail going through several really unpleasant construction sites. With the unhappy feeling of racing against time and the weather, we picked a road somewhat at random and started up a hill. However, as we were crossing a bigger road, a car pulled over and a guy got out to ask if we were lost. I was really nervous at first, but he turned out to be really nice and helpful and pointed out to us where the Camino actually went, which was not at all the direction in which we were going. Feeling grateful and lucky, we backtracked, found the trail, and followed it up a different hill until we found a makeshift campsite across a spur trail - not ideal, but it worked. Shortly after the tarp was up, the rain began.
We actually slept well and stayed dry under the tarp. Friday morning, however, it quickly became evident that the rain was not going to let up any time soon. We were absolutely soaked and freezing after a few hours of hiking, hoping that any minute we would come around a corner and find a town with open cafés. Sadly, this did not happen, and we later realized that we had taken the alternate, not-recommended route that skipped all nearby towns. Great. After about four hours of hiking without taking a break, trying to continually generate heat, we reached two small clusters of buildings that we referred to as "G-town" and "L-town," since we couldn't pronounce their names in Basque. L-town did have a café, which we took advantage of - unfortunately, we were still freezing and wet and realized that there were still no open supermarkets or pharmacies to be found, meaning that we still had no food for lunch, dinner, or any other meals in the near future. We kept walking. Around 2:00, we arrived in Lezama, the town which was originally supposed to be our destination. Following the pattern, no stores were open there. Neither was the hostel. We did find a bar that served us marvelous hot sandwiches for lunch while we contemplated our options. Camping out seemed out of the question, since everything we were wearing was soaked and it would be extremely cold and miserable to be under a tarp. The only thing we could come up with was to keep walking until we got to Bilbao, although we weren't supposed to get there until Saturday. So that's what we did.
After we had made a decision, I think we both felt a lot better. It was an extra 10-15 km, depending on which guide you looked at, but that seemed like nothing compared to what we had already done that morning. We hiked pretty much straight through and found ourselves on a mountainside overlooking Bilbao around 5 or 6 in the afternoon. Following the Camino into the city, we ended up first at the Basilica, which we took a "We made it!" picture in front of. Then there was the issue of where we would sleep that night, since our reservation started the next night. Fortunately, there was an open room at our hostel, which the old lady who ran it was kind enough to rent to us. It was so marvelous to be able to take a hot shower and put on (mostly) dry clothing! Needless to say, we went to bed early. Right as I was about to fall asleep, around 10:45, I think, my Arreplegat godmother Maria, who was also in Bilbao with two other Arreplegades, called. We had what I imagine was a pretty funny conversation for her, in which she asked where we were, I said we were in our room, she asked if we wanted to come have dinner/go out with them, and I replied really sleepily in Catalan, "We've walked here from Gernika!"
Well, that was the gist of our adventure. Hope it wasn't too long! We spent a nice, relaxing few days in Bilbao, including Easter. It's a pretty city, though small - I think I can say with certainty that we saw everything there is to see and some things that aren't particularly to see. I did really enjoy the Guggenheim Museum, which we went to yesterday before catching the train back to Barcelona. We got in late, though fortunately before the metro closed, and I was very happy to sleep in my own bed. Now it's back to classes, which isn't too bad, and gearing up for some major castellering in the next few weeks. I'll try to post pictures of our trip soon (they're all on Hallie's camera, since mine is broken)!
'Til then, salut i castells!
-Sarah
