Evening sky in Lezama:

Morning sky:

On the way:

Sometimes a body just needs to take a load off!

Especially when you are on your way to the big city.

Bilbao has a lot of sets of stairs:

Fortunately, it also had pretty good signage;

Speaking of signage, I met this group of people….some people kind of, umm, ya know, hook up and travel in a group. One such, a lovely young woman from Wales, was telling me how the German guys were doing all the map work, so she didn’t have to do a thing. It was amusing because if it were not for the yellow arrows, which even I can follow, no one would know where to go no way no how.

This is one of those pintxo thingees, a rather large one. I love that it is on bread and served with bread on the side:

Do you love this flower dog or what!! He sits in front of the Guggenheim, and may be the museum’s best exhibit.

I couldn’t tell you for sure about the exhibits because I and some other people kept trying to get to the third floor to see the permanent collection. The stairs were roped off, and the elevator refused to go above two, no matter how insistently the button for three was pushed. After chasing down an “official” I learned that the third floor, and thus its treasures, was closed. No notice posted anywhere.

However, there were other exhibits. If anyone wants to experience vertigo, just for the heck of it, they should try a full-out Richard Serra showing. Too much for me. Headed instead to some of the amusing, movie types of showings. One had a bunch of people, each in his/her own victorian room, each room shown on a screen on a separate wall so that you could see only one at a time, each character singing the same song, but playing different instruments or not playing any instrument at all, just emoting with gusto, but all of whom seemed to be higher than high. This guy was my favorite:

This moving vertical neon structure was blue on one side:

and red on the other:

The spider was outside, which is where spiders belong:

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Location:Bilbao, day one

First the photo issue, now the blog is not posting. It seems not to appreciate the signal it is getting, but maybe a connection will work soon.

Yesterday, I was pretty darn done in, but today with renewed vigor, I set off at about 7:40, thankfully having figured out the way to the route last night. El señor who worked at the desk in the hotel era muy pero que muy amable—really nice, and after a few tries, and with his help, I found those beloved yellow arrows, which I would have hated to do this morning. I would say that knowing how to get back to the path erev (the night before) is as important as washing your socks every day the minute you arrive at the hotel.

Another gorgeous sky:

Who wouldn’t want to walk here?

or here?

Super-sized bromeliad:

Fig, or the original clothing line in the dress business:

Recycled tires put to use:

I bet she was a real stunner in her day:

Just so you know, Alex:

Gatito…

Perro grande…

In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines…..OK, not Paris (yet).

Hardly saw a soul today on the 23ish K walk, but I did stop for the first time at a bar to buy water and a pintxo …wrong spelling, but they are local delicious bits of things like tapas, 90% of which have sea food or ham, but this one was egg–just a bite or two, so people generally buy several with a beer. Anyway it was really good. Onward to the hotel, for an early arrival, to discover that they do not serve food, the town about a mile back would do me no good because it is a día de fiesta, and all the stores are closed there. After a couple of hours of recuperation from the heat, I set out in the other direction, along an ugly industrial strip (Tyco has a plant there) to seek out at least a tomato. The two and a half mile round trip was worth it. Canned tuna, saved for emergencies such as this, bread and cheese from breakfast, the just purchased, giant sized tomato enhanced with salt and pepper imported from New Haven, CT, a cookie needing eating, and some grapes made a fine dinner. My supplies are running low, but tomorrow Bilbao where I hope to replenish.

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There may be some redundancy here what with the whole photo issue and all, which is still not completely resolved, but improving.

Doesn’t anyone want to identify this? (And tell me how to get rid of the i-phone data?) Actually, Tanya, uno de los tres amigos del año pasado, already did but she had an unfair advantage, so second place is still up for grabs:

Garden at the hotel in Getaria: It was really pleasant to sit there for a while:

because at the same time, you got to see this:

At night, the streets take on a whole other look:

Right outside my window:

At this charming little hotel, they do not serve breakfast until 8:30, which is much to late when one is on The Way. It is not that you have to arrive particularly early at the next stop, it is that you want to catch those cool morning hours. La señora del hotel me dijo told me that around the corner there was a cafeteria that opened at 7:00 a.m. I was there on the dot and had my first real cafe con leche of this trip. In fact I had two!

At 7:45 a.m., the sky looked like this:

and the path for a stretch like this:

Do you see that little yellow arrow on the tree? Yes! The route today was very well marked. It makes all the difference.

Joanne said I should take a selfie so that you would all know that it was really yo here. This one reveals the proportion of legs to brain required to walk the walk.

Huh? Martin, is this a topic in your course?

It is so nice to be served water without having to ask:

The photo below wasn’t meant to be artistic, it is just not a great photo. The dude pointing out something with the stick, a local fellow out for a walk, was nice enough to let me, and later some others (the other dude,a guy from Denmark, e.g, and then two chicos from France), join him on the “scenic” route for a supposed 6K segment to Deba (destination for the day). It was scenic, to be sure, but, oy, was it hard and it had to be more than 6K. If what has come before has been a 4 or a 5, this was an 8, and it was hot, and the steep verticals kept coming, one after another, and did I say it was hot? And there was no shade. But we made it, 22 K in about 4 1/2 hours and my swollen ankle is none the worse for the challenge.

One of the views:

Tonight I took a walk on the beach. Here is what I have learned: Some women go topless, not many, which makes it seem odd that any do. One was about eight months pregnant. Little boys are sometimes naked on the beach but not little girls, although they almost never wear tops.

While on the beach, the two guys from France, one Francois and one Fabian, told me that they had found the scenic spectacular a challenge. Phew, it was not just me!

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Between one place an another, a man on a bike stopped to chat. He had taken early retirement, although he did not look anywhere near THAT age, and was committed to enjoying life. Anyway, inter alia, he was teaching himself German, and clothes-pinned to his bike were his vocabulary lists! I really got a kick put of that!

Peppers drying:

Probably, because of the buildup of taxing days, today felt especially taxing (maybe because of painful ankle?) so I was especially excited to see this sign:

But it was CLOSED!

Bovine with partially amputated horns:

Partial compensation for closed restaurant:

Sore foot being treated in the bidet:

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Last night, dinner at a table with cooked food, the first one. The hotel had a section that was an albergue, so maybe they are obligated to provide sustenance for the weary. In any case, the spaghetti with sliced tomatoes and chopped onion, fried eggs, and watermelon for dessert were delicious. (There was also ham and French fries.). The only annoyance was a woman who did not stop talking, and to make her every point, gestured extravagantly by mimicking vomiting or gagging, these expressions not in any way a commentary on the meal, as she did consume the victuals with a most hearty appetite.

View at 7:30 a.m:

and a little later:

Very pleased to have been able to figure out how to open this gate:

Guarding the zucchini:

There is nothing like a little entertainment mid-morning:

Between one place an another, a man on a bike stopped to chat. He had taken early retirement, although he did not look anywhere near THAT age, and was committed to enjoying life. Anyway, inter alia, he was teaching himself German, and clothes-pinned to his bike were his vocabulary lists! I really got a kick put of that!

Peppers drying:

See Gernika B for second part.

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Location:Calle de Gordoniz,Bilbao,Spain

Stay tuned for news and photos. Let’s try one picture as a test:

Do you what this is?

And who can tell me why all that iPhone stuff shows?

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Already having walked the first stage from Hondarribea to San Sebastían and still having another day in Hondarribea, I had to be mildly creative. I decided to redo a section of the first day’s walk, admittedly not so creative, and explore more of the town.

The smell of mowed grass, ummm, so nice:

Don’t ask how it is possible, but I got off track on the return. After looking at the map, it was easy to see why; there are several possible routes up to the Hermitage, and signage such as this is not helpful. I really hate the smiley face:

My meanderings were not off into the wilds, so it could have been worse. The scenery was enjoyable and eventually I did happen on some locals who were kind enough to point me on the way. Finally, back in town, it was a delight to discover that the heladería was open for business, because, in Spain, one never knows what will be open when. Not only did I purchase an ice cream que estaba super rico, I learned that the word for ice cream cone is cucurucho! (pronounced koo-koo-roo-choe) Isn’t that the best! Later in the day, when purchasing a roll, I learned the word for poppy seeds, but that is not as interesting.

A picturesque burglar alarm maybe?

These little pretties look like wild pansies:

Today GyPSy was officially converted to revealing her distance data in kilometers. Her first announcement was 23.6. Without a full pack, and not wearing hiking boots, and not doing a lot of hills, that distance was pretty easy. Also, I chose not to walk during the hottest hours of the day, not always an option.

On to San Sebastián and check-in at the first hotel of the “tour.” The good part is that they let me check it at 9:00 a.mm. The not so good part is this is the view:

No incentive to linger. A walk on the beach at high tide, a must:

Getting set up for the day:

The sun screen must be in here somewhere!

¡Hola, señor! I knew I would see you again!

Like Stony Creek:

Camera broke, photos not transferring from iPhone to iPad, App Store will not let me make purchases, keyboard not connecting to iPad, Apple ID a mess, wi fi not staying connected. This may be the last post for a while.

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Perhaps I was a bit cavalier judging yesterday’s walk as “easy” because, of a truth, it was only half a stage, the second segment of which was today’s exertion. First, a taxi to get to Paisajes San Juan. Isn’t it cute, the town, that is? (The taxi was ordinary):

Then, for about a dollar, in about two or three minutes, a little motor boat ferries you across to the other Paisajes, that of San Pedro.

The guy wearing the nifty hat and brandishing the oar had the job before the motor was invented. It must have been a really sweet ride in those days:

From the vantage (or do you have to say “vantage point?”) of the boat, you can see how really cute Paisajes…that of San Juan…really is:

On the other side, the coastal segment of the day began, but first, a word to Teddy.

Teddy, if, God forbid, the bathrooms at Hunter are as formidable as are these steel enclosures, from which, the door once locked, even Houdini could not have effected an escape, and whose emergency button summons no aid, not to worry. Just bring a book because apparently there is a timer and the door will eventually unlock.

There is something to be learned from being temporarily imprisoned in a dirty, metal cubicle. Imagining it furnished with a cot, one would, without hesitation, have no difficulty saying,”No” to drugs!

Whilst imprisoned in that dirty, metal, windowless cubicle, I did imagine a cot therein, which image should be enough to deter anyone from committing any infraction of the law WHATSOEVER AT ALL that could land them in the hoosegow!

Relieved (pun intended) to get out of there and on to a gorgeous walk, nowhere near as difficult as the sign preaches. Roughly translated: “No pain, no gain.”

A long flight of steps began the climb:

For those wanting respite in the shade, by and by there was a place for that, too, but buggy. And, yes, that is garbage on the ground:

Many views were reminiscent of the Pembrokeshire National Trail:

After a few lovely hours, the famous beach of San Sebastián:

A bus back to Hondarribea and now two days of recreation before the official walk. This is more adjustment time than was necessary, but who knew?

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After intense, almost obsessive, planning this past year, the day of departure inevitably arrived. Every anxiety I had about getting to the airport, the plane being on time, transferring from DeGaulle to Orly, that plane taking of on schedule, and being picked up in Biarritz by one Jose Antonio went without a hitch. What I had not foreseen, was that the grilled vegetable sandwich I had purchased at JFK would make me sick. What misery! Clammy, headachy, nauseated, I had to stumble from one mode of transport to another toting a you-know-what kind of bag from the plane. But at last, arrival at:

a fine hostelry, comfortable in every way but certainly not over the top.

Hondarribea is a walled city, which demanded exploration despite my having a headache from hell, not to mention the already mentioned woes. Through the fog, I was actually able to absorb the receptionist’s instructions to “go straight and through the playground” in order to discover the famous bridge, which all the guidebooks mention but does not appear on any map, to reach the old city.

Just to prove the walled-ness, contemplate, if you will, this section of wall:

You even have to go through a stone tunnel to enter:

And, boys and girls, if you are naughty, you go down to the dungeon:

Hotel Jaizkibel is the first hotel I have ever stayed in in Spain that offers room service at hours other than when the dining room is open. Not that the menu is extensive and when the possibilities that contain ham are deleted, about two choices remain. So a dry French omelette, a roll and butter (not on the menu but provided at request) and yogurt with honey, garnished with walnuts from Bishops, were dinner for which, by then emerging from my misery, I was grateful:

Oh, and this was the first time ever I spoke Spanish on the phone!!

I had an ambitious plan for today. Get up on the early side, and head out to Paisajes de San Juan in the cool of the morning. Accordingly, the alarm was set for 7:00. Imagine my surprise when, upon awaking, to see the phone read 2:00—-when it was light out! How could that be? You may pause to think before reading on. Give up? Got it?

The phone was still on airplane mode, so it was actually 8:00 a.m. After eleven hours sleep, I was ready for anything. After a pleasant breakfast, off I set, a little worried because today’s instructions were kind of ehh, but you know you are on The Way when you begin to see:

However, my confidence gave out when the signage, which was practically non existent, gave out altogether and there really was no path. Fortunately, I came upon this good fellow, without whose help for a good stretch of the way, I never could have managed.

As I started to blurt out my confusion, he responded, “Tranquilla, señora.” Translation: “Slow down, lady, and tell me what the problem is.” Afortunadamente, he was willing to walk with me until he had to turn off and we chatted. OK, he talked, mostly, which was fine, at least the 80% I understood.

Intermezzo: Do you have to know Spanish to do a walk like this? The hoteliers speak English fluently, but in shops and along the way, people don’t, so when help is needed, as it was then, and again later to take two busses back to Hondarribea, it was essential. The many many hours of dry podcasts and of working through novels, finally is paying off.

Back to the sights! It’s not England, but Wi–llll-b–ur has relatives everywhere:

This guy did not move a muscle:

Horses running:

Resting:

Eating:

First view of the Bay of Biscay:

Easy to follow stretch of path (would that it were all like this):

Going down this, yes, to the bottom, was scary at times. There were railings for the worst of it, but not looking to the left and hugging the right was the best strategy. Tripping would have led to a bad end.

Was thrilled to have made it to my destination not tired in the slightest, and again, thanks to some friendly and willing-to-help locals, I was able to manage the busses, arriving safely back after a five+ hour walk on a gorgeous day. Unfortunately, GyPSy gave out, my fault for not having checked the batteries, so mileage is unclear–it was something more than ten, so let’s say 20K. The difficulty, according to the book, was 5, the highest degree, but really, except for that scary downhill, it was not demanding. Not to worry so much about the upcoming 32K days, if this was the standard. Vamos a ver.

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Location:Hondarribea

562.71 miles from St. Jean-Pied-de-Port, we arrive at The End of the Earth!!

These last miles were beautiful walking, and finally seeing the Atlantic was a thrill!

That we had gorgeous weather was a surprise because what comes from clouds like these was predicted:

Tan and Ian make their way across the beach:

And so do I!

A “Camino shell” among the bird footprints:

Even the dolphins rejoice!

After arriving in Finisterre, we still have to go to the OFFICIAL end, which is the lighthouse, some two miles, uphill from town.

Tan and Ian… as the lighthouse finally comes into view, and we know we have made it:

And here we are, Los Tres Amigos:

These are the boots that walked every step!

The westernmost cross in Spain:

The westernmost tchotchke shop:

Tanya taking a photo of the VERY LAST YELLOW ARROW:

We get the very last stamp in our camino passports:

And it is a little bit sad that there are

left to go:

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Location:FINISTERRE