The good weather was finished by morning and light rain had set in, so that is my excuse not to hurry. As if I need an excuse now. I can always find one though.
I had the hotel breakfast and packed up. The lady at reception pressed a button to extend the awning outside, so I could load the bike and stay out of the rain. Very thoughtful.
The rain was very light when I left and dried up very quickly as I headed along the coast. Today was to be fairly flat until I crossed from Hendaye to Hondarribia, then it would be an 8km, 550 metre climb before the inevitable downhill into San Sebastian.
The coastline to Hendaye was pretty stunning and undulating and the drivers were great. The French are the most practical and respectful drivers that I’ve experienced anywhere on this trip. Let’s hope the Spaniards are the same.
I arrived at the marina in Hendaye and twice rode past the ferry. I finally got it right and took the 2.30€ ride over to Hondarribia in Spain. That’s country 27 in this 2 year (so far) trip.
As I arrived in Hondarribia, the heavens opened but not in the way I’m used to in Australia. Back home, when it rains heavily, the raindrops are big and they pelt down. Here, it was fine droplets but so dense that I was drenched very quickly. It’s deceptive because it doesn’t feel like heavy rain but it had the same effect.
I found a bakery and learnt my first words in Basque – hello and thankyou, and by the time I’d eaten some food and started looking for coffee, I’d forgotten. Getting old is a pain in the neck ☹️
Out of Hondarribia, the road quickly rose. This section must be famous because there were signs every kilometre telling me how far I’d come, and what the average and maximum grades were over the next kilometre.
I can do without that information as I’m prone to psyching myself out of climbs. I’m much better than I used to be but knowing that the average is 10 percent for the next kilometre, isn’t comforting and I need to put it out of my mind. It was on this climb that Rule 11 of cycletouring came into force – Every time you stop to pee beside a quiet road, a car will come past. It happened twice, and was uncanny.
Luckily the hardest part was the first km and I settled quickly into the rhythm of the climb after that. It really was a nice ride – so quiet, so few cars (except for rule 11), but light rain which got heavier with each passing kilometre. The views that I was hoping for, were covered in cloud. In some places, I could hear the sea but I could only see grey clouds.
The Vuelta Espana must have done this climb this year, as I reached a stretch with names of the top riders painted on the road. Later, there’d be political slogans for the same distance. I guess for the locals, it’s cycling and politics that bring out the spray cans.
When I finally reached the top, I wanted to stop, take photos and take a break but there was nothing to see. I was enveloped in thick cloud. So, I just kept going.
I had my rain jacket, waterproof gloves, poncho, goretex shoes etc, so at no point did I get really wet (and therefore cold), but at the foot of the descent, I wasn’t really having fun, so I stopped under an awning until the rain eased then I set off for the next small ferry and the last 10kms into San Sebastian.
The ferry guy was great – giving me all sorts of directions for the Camino, but I understood almost nothing of what he said. And then I realised that I really should learn some Spanish. I had got by in other countries with a few words, phrases and a smile, but here, I didn’t even have a few words.
I bumped into another bike tourer who easily had twice as much gear as me. He must have been American because he didn’t understand me. When I asked if he spoke English, he replied in perfect American, but he couldn’t understand me saying – “great day for a ride, eh”. Maybe the rain drowned me out.
I made it to the Pensione and wrung the water out of my gear. My gloves did their job. My hands were dry and warm, but the gloves held so much water in their outer fabric that they took two days to dry.
The Pensione is nice but they decided to charge me 10€ per night to allow me to store my bike on the tiny balcony outside my room. That’s a first. It felt like travelling with Jetstar 😁. And … I don’t know what I get for my 10 euros – certainly not any security.
The room is dry but it was soon filled with wet gear. It’s my home for the next week, and I’ll use the time to rest my legs and brain and relax. I have a month to get to Silves near the Algarve where the kids and I are spending Xmas.
I don’t want to wish that time away. It should be lots of fun getting there. On the way is the Guggenheim in Bilbao, maybe some of a Camino, and lots of places in between.