I woke up and felt like absolute garbage. Worst hangover ever. I tried to hydrate... took an advil because my hip was in excruciating pain. Wish I could remember more of my evening. I'm actually not too happy with myself at the moment. I feel dizzy and nauseous and my stomach actually hurts. My poor liver too. Hang in there little buddy. To top it all off, I've got Marcel staring at me. Judging hahaha. To make matters worse, I looked out my window to see dark skies and rain. With incredible effort I removed myself from bed, showered and tried to force myself to eat a banana. Maybe I just need air I thought.
I opened the window to the street and as luck would have it, some delivery guy was below having a smoke. That did not help me. It was a major struggle just to function. I'm fairly certain I was still drunk and had many hours ahead to suffer through it. As I started out of St Jean, I couldn't even bring myself to get coffee...I just wanted to get out of France. It's not France's fault that I was hungover and felt like death but I just wanted to leave it all behind. The hangover. The noise. The smoke. The judgements. All of it. So when I saw a bus that said Hendaye, I actually said to Marcel, fuck it. Let's take the bus. He didn't complain, because let's face it...he is a grocery cart and does whatever I want. I was sweating profusely, probably red droplets of wine coming out of my pores and the bus was unusually full. I sat in a makeshift seat securing Marcel and as much as I needed air, there was none. No windows. No view. No voluntary movement for a 20 min ride. I thought of you Taya and your motion sickness and empathized.
As soon as we arrived in Hendaye, I just let the rain wash over me. I thanked God for letting me survive a foolish night of over drinking and for letting me survive that bus ride but most of all for raining down on me and washing it all away before I stepped into Spain.
Hendaye was actually a cool spot and with the moody, grey skies, the surfers and their bright colored boards just popped and made for some fun photography.
I made my way to the marina where I hopped on a little passenger ferry for 1€ to cross the bay. And just like that, I was in Spain.
Like medicine for my soul, I instantly started feeling better.
I found a spot for a café con leche in the harbour that welcomed me and then with much thought involved tried to find my hotel. I was in a pedestrian area with cute shops and restaurants in Hondarribia.
This town used to be part of the official Camino Norte but now the route bypasses it. Still many people detour here to see the old Town. I made my way to the Cathedral assuming correctly that is was in the center of the historic old town.
I made many wrong turns along very old cobblestone streets until I found my place. Marcel barely survived the old stone streets.
My hotel was in the Plaza Das Armas next to a Parador. An old fort converted into a fancy schmancy hotel.
The entire square, in fact all the surrounding streets were lined with row houses, 3 stories high and all in typical heavy Basque design. Lots of painted wood shutters in bright colours of blue and green and many heavy wooden doors and old stone arches.
This part of town was enclosed by stone walls, enclosing the fortress and the Cathedral and me and my hotel. It was so beautiful and historic. I was there early but was allowed to check-in and I thought, how perfect, I can nap. I got to my room which was cute but with no window. Well there was a window but it opened up into a 4x4 courtyard which provided no fresh air.
There was a fan that I quickly turned on because the room smelled of cleaning solution. Really strong, like a mix of bleach with cheap perfume and an entire spray bottle of a cheap febreeze knockoff. If you know me, you know that I have a major sensitivity to fragrance. My throat was starting to itch and I could feel it closing. I dropped my stuff and left for air. I had a hard enough time with all the French perfume in the days prior but this is Spain. It's supposed to smell like tapas!
I walked about town scoping out where to eat and where to buy coffee and even which way I would go in the morning to find the path for my Camino. Eventually I came back to my room and still... it was so strong. So I ran the shower and the sink hoping if it was in the drains I could wash it away. I did this off and on until I could finally enjoy my room.
I went next door to a restaurant called Mika for dinner but had to stroll around town until they opened at 730pm. I had a vegetarian quinoa salad with avocado and nuts. It was yummy. My stomach was starting to feel better and for the record I had a coca cola light lol. No wine.
I also went to bed early like a good girl so that I could kick some mountain ass in the morning. I love you Spain. It's so good to be back
Buenos Noches.
Sent from my Galaxy
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