Day 14 - Hondarribia to San Sebastien

It's almost midnight and I'm not even tired. I should be. I walked 29kms today and climbed up and over 2 mountains. In the dark initially. In the rain and alone. I absolutely loved it. My feet however felt like they went through a meat grinder. My quads and hammies are holding up well but my back is pinching again. My stomach and liver have healed 🤣 I may be ready for a glass of wine tomorrow 😉🍷

I started early about 0730 and it was dark and raining lightly. The streets were empty and the cobblestones were reflecting the warm, yellow glow of the street lamps. I had a general idea of where to find my trail but the town doesn't have the yellow arrows or brass shells on the streets like the Camino Frances had. I was relying on a map and felt a little disoriented. So I took 2 steps to my left and an old Spanish man far to my right started yelling at me and waving his arms in 10 different directions like he was bringing in an airplane. He was sending me to  the path. It's easy to spot a pilgrim in Spain when you see a giant backpack and the lost look. I approached him and said Gracias. Then he rambled on again about where to go... but I said first café?? And he giggled si si. Him and his old buddies were sitting in front of the only open coffee shop around. 

Here I had a magnificent café con leche and with a little searching, finally found the first of what will be many yellow arrows.

The walk out of Hondaribbia began as expected with alot of stairs and big climb almost immediately into rural countryside.  One of my first happy encounters was with 3 donkeys who came running to the fence to greet me. I was petting them and laughing at one of them because he had a perma grin. We took selfies and hung out for a bit.

 It was a good opportunity to catch my breath. I was alone all morning, no pilgrims. The climb was steady and relentless but not steep until I was within sight of Guadalupe, a church near the top. I was already feeling so happy and inspired but then I heard voices, singing  like angels and I realized there was a mass at Guadalupe and it was outside. 

It was like my own private welcome to the top of the mountain. I was winded and I was already soaked with sweat, but I made it. The next 10 kms were mostly level with periodic views through chestnut forests. The trail  was wide and sandy and that's where I met my first pilgrim. Bernard. An older guy from France. We chatted briefly in our broken languages but then walked on separately.

We had both chosen the lower route when the road split. I might have considered the high route on a sunny, clear day but it was very foggy and very wet. The lower route was the safer, smarter way to go, besides I want to save my knees for when I don't have a choice but to climb.

I've been feeling somewhat  burdened as of late and full of anxiety. Socially withdrawn. Then I drank too much that one night and that threw me off. I felt so sick and off balance after that. But I want to leave it all behind me and not bring it into Spain so as I climbed I kept telling myself to let it go. Forgive myself and let it go. Forgive the French lol and let it go.

After a hard descent into Pasajes, I finally had my café con leche. I sat on a little patio watching the boats in the little village. I soon boarded one of them, a little passenger ferry which cost me 1€. It was a quick ride, maybe 30 seconds to the other side. 

Once across I followed the shoreline until my only choice was to go up. A staircase carved into the side of the mountain. Relentless, neverending stairs. The views were spectacular and in my mind I convinced myself that the views were the reason I kept stopping. Not because I was winded and out of shape. 

At the top, there were picnic tables and I setup my lunch and took off my boots. I ate the prepackaged tuna I bought in town and it was surprisingly good. Or maybe just about anything would tasted good after that climb.

The remainder of the path to San Sebastien was very green. I felt like I was in a rainforest. As scenic as it was my feet were aching. They felt like they might not make it, they were burning.

Luckily I was distracted with finally a glimpse of San Sebastien from the mountain top and it was gorgeous. Now I was excited again to get there.

 It was a fabulous city. It was however jammed with people. I had to walk through the city to get to the old part of town where my hotel was. I passed the church on my way and did my usual tour. It also had a museum inside and an art gallery. I really just wanted to get to my hotel and get washed... it was a beautiful but hard day. Lots of climbing. I had to climb to the 2nd floor to check in and guess what they had? A smelly infuser with a not so subtle scent. Great.

The place was Fort Knox. A key for my bedroom. A key for my bathroom. A key for the apartment. And a key to get in the building. They weren't just keys. They were keys for geniuses. And that is how I realized I'm just not that smart 🤣 I broke a sweat trying to get in my room 🤣🤣

The shower was great and I felt reborn. Enough so that I went into town and strolled around. Scoped out dinner places but couldn't read a single menu. They weren't just in Spanish they were in Basque. I grew frustrated and extremely hungry so I went to a market and bought, cheese, chorizo, fruit and salad. I came back to my room and had a party for one haha. And just like that, I heard screams and then the downpour of rain with crazy wind and thunder. The streets turned into chaos and at that moment I was grateful that things turned out the way they did.

 I watched the madness from the comfort of my room. When that got old I turned the TV on and watched Bob Esponja hahaha. That's SpongeBob in Spanish lol. I organized myself and tried to sleep but couldn't. In fact I didn't all night. 2 guys had a loud verbal neverending fight below my window... in English. I was so mad, they kept me awake for ages... I almost went down there to fight them both myself hahaha 

But I didn't... I eventually fell asleep and that was probably for 2 hours. 

I'll survive.