Got up nice and early and were on our way to stake out our spot before 7:30. We took the peage (toll highway) instead of the ‘scenic road’ so we wouldn’t get hung up anywhere along the way.
We went just past the summit of the second highest climb, then backtracked to a spot about 100 metres before the summit. There were already two campervans parked there so we pulled in and setup the table and chairs and had tea and breakfast. The fog hadn’t risen yet on the mountain but we could hear the bells of some animals on the hill below.
As the fog gradually lifted we saw that the bells were on horses, not cows – every one of them had a large bell right under their chins, even the baby ones. The fog lifted, then settled again a couple of times throughout the morning.
Another car joined us after awhile – it was a very nice young Spanish couple, Ivan and Isabelle, and we talked for quite a bit. It was getting warmer and warmer, and then I had to use the washroom. I walked up past the summit, then down the other way looking for a safe spot but there were too many people riding, driving and walking up and down the road. Just as I got back to the car the driver of the large campervan next to us got back from a ride on his motorbike, so I immediately asked if I could use his bathroom.
He was very nice and said yes, of course. A short time later he asked if we wanted to move Mo’s cushion and our chairs under the shade of his campervan, then he brought out a bucket full of ice for our water and wine bottles that we were trying to keep cool in the shade of the table.
A young fellow came down the road and looked at Colin’s license plate, which is from France, and asked in French if we knew when the race would arrive – when we answered he could tell we weren’t French and it was quite funny – he was actually American. He is here on his honeymoon with his new bride and we ended up chatting for quite a while. In the meantime several more cars arrived until there was no room for any more.
Since we had the schedule we knew approximately when the riders should start coming by so around 2:30 I walked up to the summit of the climb. There were banners and about 20 metres of barriers on each side so I went back and forth to decide where the best spot to watch from would be. The American (Michael) saw me and we talked again – he asked how we would know when the race was coming. I told him we should first see some police motos, then some official cars, and probably the helis, which was what happened.
I chose first of all to stand just beyond the summit banner where there was no barrier, but when the breakaway of six whizzed past I thought I was going to get run over. The racers veered to my side of the road because there was a corner coming and they wanted to be on the inside, so I moved to the lower side of the banner, outside the barrier.
That wasn’t a bad choice until the peloton came by followed by all of the team cars – that’s when a fierce wind kicked up and the barriers fell over and threw me back against the hill. At first I thought the wind was from the helicopter, which had been very close, but I think it was actually the cars – they were going so fast to keep up with the riders, even though it was the top of a pretty hard climb.
I picked myself up and kept taking photos of the next group until the end, then looked around at the fallen barrier – it was completely down and had landed right on top of my backpack, but I had my camera and all was ok. The security guys were worried about me and asked if I was alright – at least they didn’t think it was my fault!
I saw Michael and his new wife (Jackie) on the other side of the road and we talked for a bit – this is the first race she’s seen and thinks its wonderful. I took a pic for them next to the summit marker on her phone – she had to show me how – ha ha – then went back down to the car for a bit to wait for the second passing of the racers. Colin was in the large campervan watching the race on the satellite tv for a bit.
Back at the summit I moved down the hill to just before the start of the barrier, which they had picked up and moved onto the very edge of the road so it won’t – theoretically – fall over again. This time around there was only one racer in the lead, and the peloton wasn’t very far behind.
As soon as the last racer had passed they started tearing down the barriers and everyone, as usual, started to leave. Back at the campervan they couldn’t watch the tv because the fog had rolled back in and there was no reception. We took our time packing up then headed down the mountain.
I was hoping to get an arrow as a momento, but they were already removing them – we saw the official van ahead of us so we stopped. I jumped out and begged for one but one guy said he couldn’t give me any as they use them over and over. It happened to be the same three fellows we’d stopped and asked for a map from yesterday and we all recognized each other. One of the other guys said wait – this one’s damaged so we can’t use it again anyway and gave it to me!
Relaxed back at the campground for a bit, then went back to the tapas bar in Getaria for dinner.

It was even more crowded than two days ago – you could barely walk in the street – no cars, thank goodness. The tapas bar was crowded too, but we managed to get seats.
The food was just as good as the first time, and I really noticed how the three staff members worked together – one young fellow that was there on Thursday, a young lady and an adult man. They did – as Dominic would say – the kitchen dance. They were so efficient and fast and always had a smile – it was actually great to watch. There we so many people talking and laughing that we almost had to shout to hear each other, but it was fun. A really good end to a really good day!
We needed a map and schedule for the race tomorrow so headed towards Hernani to get some groceries and try to find a map. We passed a van with guys putting up the yellow arrows for the route so stopped and asked them if they had a map, but they didn’t so we continued on.
We had a look at what she’d given us, and decided to drive along the last part of the route, as it had a couple of good climbs and the riders actually go around it twice so we’d get to see them two times. We navigated to the road we had chosen and drove in the opposite direction that the race would be taking. We came upon a church that had some parking so pulled in to have lunch in a small park across the road. There are fantastic views of Irun and Hondarribia and part of the ocean below.
Once again it’s right on the Camino trail – there are scallop shells (not clam shells – ha ha) on the church itself, as well as on route markers for the hikers. There’s a much larger parking lot beyond the church and we considered if that might be a good place to plant ourselves tomorrow.
As we drove down towards San Sebastian we saw several more possible places to watch from, and figured that if we arrived early enough in the morning we could likely have our choice of spots.
We found some underground parking at the far end of the beach then started walking along the nice wide boardwalk. The beach is great, and along the boardwalk are lots and lots of cafes and tavernas. There are hundreds of sunbathers, swimmers and surfers and the general atmosphere is just great.
We stopped at a cafe on the boardwalk and had a drink, then decided to stay there and have dinner. It was very nice – we stayed until the sun was starting to go down – most of the beach-goers had left by then but the boardwalk was still busy. We walked down it almost the end other end, then back – there are art displays/sculptures here and there.
As we drove back thru the town we saw that the main street and all of the side streets were packed with people – cafes and bars all had tables outside and it was bustling.
Early in the evening we went out to the little town just west of here – Getaria. It also has a very popular beach, and a small but thriving-looking fishing fleet.
The parking meter was a bit challenging, but once that was mastered we headed past the beach and harbour and towards the town.
In the harbour was a replica of an old sailing ship. There were folks on it that seemed to be cleaning it up and getting it ready for something. It smelled quite bad – like tar or oil.
We stopped first at a cafe/bar overlooking the water – it was a lovely spot but was marred by the motorcycles that drove right past between the tables where the pedestrians walk over to the next bar or two – it was a dead end and they all ended up coming back sooner or later – very unfortunate. When I went inside the cafe/bar I saw that they also sold things – wine, cheese, dried meat (pork?) and jellies.
The town is very pretty, but seems quite touristy – it’s on the Camino trail, and obviously attracts lots of other tourists. We went up what seemed to be the main street, and down the next, cutting back over to the first one to try a tapas bar we’d passed. Luckily these streets are car-free and there were lots of people strolling around – it was very pleasant.
The bar we went into had cycling on tv – European indoor track championships, I believe. They had many different tapas out on trays, and when you ordered they gave you a little plate – you just went along the bar and picked what you wanted, and they counted the wooden skewers after to see what you owed. The things I tried were delicious, and Colin said he really liked what he’d chosen as well.
The clouds were eventually replaced by blue sky, and after lunch I took Mo for a walk partway down the path towards the beach. The views are spectacular, and the beach below looks fantastic.
It’s a really popular surfing beach in the area – there are signs in the washrooms at the campground that you can’t bring your surfboards inside – a lot of the campground’s visitors have come for the surfing. There are also signs that you shouldn’t dump your campervan’s chemical toilet into the washbasins – are some people really that stupid?
I met a fellow from Manchester along the trail – he had what I call a ‘real’ camera also – and we chatted for a bit. The trail is very good – the first part was sloped pavement, and the next part was very well-made stairs.
Mo and I stopped about halfway down and turned around – the walk back up wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. The trail down to Wreck Beach in Vancouver is much tougher.
After a leisurely afternoon we went to the same bar/restaurant as last night to get dinner but it was closed so we went to the other restaurant. The outdoor area was full so we had to go inside – again taking Mo in wasn’t a problem. This time I opted for croquettes, which were delicious – ham and nice creamy cheese. I topped it up with some of Colin’s fries and we each had two glasses of really nice red wine.
It wasn’t far to Irun, where we turned west along the coast thru San Sebastian – which is also known as Donostia, its Basque name I believe. The GPS led us on a very picturesque route all along the coast heading west.
Once again we’re near one of the Camino trails – we’ve seen a couple of signs and some of the hikers have large (fake) clam shells hanging from their backpacks.
The campground is just outside the town of Zarautz and high up on a hill overlooking the Atlantic. It’s fairly large and completely different from the last two places we’ve stayed. When you arrive there’s a young lady that intercepts you and tells you where to park before you go in to register. Once you come out she tells you where to wait for another staff member on a scooter to come and lead you to your little plot. The area we’re in is very crowded – we’re squished in like sardines in a can, but it’s alright since our neighbours on both sides are really nice. Despite the number of people it’s pretty quiet – no traffic noises and lots of trees and birds. There’s a path down to the beach that we’ll have to investigate at some point.
We setup camp, then drove down to the town to look for a store – no luck finding one open. Again – the extremely annoying 4 or 5 hour lunch! We stopped for a quick drink at a bar – and I was once again bothered by screaming kids. There was a group at the next bar to us that had several small children at one table and the adults at another, and no matter how much the kids screamed they were generally ignored by the parents, who were relaxing with drinks and chatting with their friends.
I first followed the one that goes up, although I must admit that I pushed the bike as much as I rode it. It was what I can only describe it as – caterpillar hell. They were coming down from the trees by the hundreds – at times there were so many ‘lines’ dropping that it looked like a web or cocoon – it was just gross. I met a couple of Spanish guys that were walking down the road and they said it turned to dirt in about 1 km, and that the caterpillars didn’t end.
I turned around again and went back up to the campground – totally sweaty and probably covered with caterpillars. As I coasted the bike to where the tent was I saw a caterpillar right in front of my nose – it must have landed on my helmet and was spinning a web down from the front. I found at least three more on my shirt – various sizes from about an inch long down to around a quarter inch.
It’s a very lovely village, right on the river and very hilly. At one small farm there were a bunch of sheep and they were all tucked up against the stone wall where there was a tiny bit of shade – they looked like rocks, only with heads.
They’re some sort of log-cutting thing around here – there’s a statue of a guy cutting a log that he’s standing on, and a poster on a building of a bunch of other guys that are apparently champions/former champions or something.
I had enough of the chicken left over to do me for breakfast tomorrow. Back at the tents we didn’t stay up too long, except that the campers above us were talking loudly until very late – they weren’t drunk or belligerent or anything – just very loud.
Had another good sleep followed by another wonderful outdoor shower. Ate a leisurely breakfast while drying out the tent, fly and ground-cover as they were soaked with dew.
We pulled over at one point and decided to check out campgrounds in one of the books Colin has – ended up back-tracking a bit to Santesteban, then north to the village of Sunbilla. Just outside the village there was a marker for the campground, which seems to have a very popular restaurant/bar. They also have four very cute donkeys, that have a moveable fence/coral.
We chose our own camping spot, in a fairly secluded area ringed by six large oak trees. After we setup we went and sat at an outside table at the restaurant and had a late lunch of battered and fried calamari rings, breaded calamari fingers and fries – all very tasty.
A bus came along and discharged two gendarmes and they set up a barricade along the small side road that we’re across from – the cows in a nearby field were unimpressed. Only official cars were allowed on the ‘main’ road after that, and even cyclists were told to get off and walk their bikes.

There was a group of three men and two boys that had been patiently watching and waiting for hours – one of the boys had a ‘king of the mountains polka dot jersey on, just like his hero – and it was quite funny because as soon as Alaphillipe passed they left! Didn’t even wait for the top 10 to come by.


We headed back to the campground, then decided to go out for dinner. The road into Souraide was still closed from the race so we went north instead to Ustaritz, and was the going ever slow. Many people were leaving, although a surprising number stayed where they were – they were having parties on the side of the road here and there almost the whole way to the town.
We had a wonderful seafood-of-the-day dinner at Restaurant Du Labourd in Ustaritz. It was a lovely place – we arrived just after 7:00 and were told that dinner service didn’t start until 7:30 so we sat outside and had a drink first. The chef and some of the staff were at another table having their dinner before they got to work.
When I got back to camp I was informed, very nicely, that I had made a boo-boo when packing up the cooler. Not only had I forgotten to bring the eggs (and carrots), but I hadn’t sealed the lid properly on my olives and feta-cheese containers. There was olive and cheese juice all over everything in the bottom of the cooler – oops!
St-Jean is a beautiful town right on the ocean – just south of Biarritz. We found a parking spot right next to the seaside and walked along the boardwalk a bit. It’s a very touristy place, but at the same time extremely appealing in it’s own way. There are several really nice beaches and you can see the Pyranees in the distance.


Back towards Souraide more campers keep arriving all along the route – the roadsides in the wider spots are filling up, as is the campground. I’m a bit surprised at the number of tents.
There are quite a few kids at the campground, some very young, with bikes – they ride around and around and are very quiet (ie – not shreaking all the time). Had an early evening – all set for tomorrow!
There were already lots of campervans parked along the road and we wondered if we would have to ‘wild camp’, which we were prepared for, but still preferred the idea of a campground. We did stop at a B&B along the stage route, but it was, of course, fully booked. The lady there did, however, direct us to a nearby campground that we might try.
It wasn’t very far – just around the corner from where the stage will be going. We pulled in and walked up to the house/office. A man came out and indicated that they were full for the next several days, but when we told him we only had two small tents he thought about it a bit, then said ok – we could squeeze in somewhere.
We needed groceries, as well as lunch, so ended up driving just past St-Pee-Sur-Nivelle for the groceries, then back into the town to a bar for lunch. It was right on the main street – we sat outside and asked for two orders of the pate and each got a bowl of bread rounds and a small can of pate.
It actually was really good – not quite as good as what I had in Varenne, but not bad at all. Almost everything on the menu – both food and drinks – is from ‘Basque’ – many folks have red neck-kerchiefs and the Basque flag is prominent. I tried a local cider, which was ok – not overly sweet like some can be, and had a slight citrus flavour.
The shop next door to the bar we were in had some really neat posters of old Tours – one was from 1922, and the shop across the street had a cool painting of a cyclist on its window. Most of the signs – shop signs and street/highway signs – are in two languages – French and Basque.
Our neighbours at the campground are really nice – they invited us over to play a game that seemed similar to bocci-ball, but was with disks instead of balls. Colin passed on joining them, but I gave it a go. My first toss was really close, but after that it was hit-and-miss for me. One of the kids – probably around 13 or 14, was pretty good. They tried to instruct me on how to throw properly – one such piece of advice was ‘not a frisbee’.
When the game broke up so they could eat dinner I left – sat outside and read for a bit, then headed into my tent for more reading.