With the state of my toe it was prudent that I spend a rest day to allow it to heal and dry out. I booked a single room at a hotel near to the albergue.
This will allow me to dry out my rucksack and rest my feet. The town is very pretty and a bit of a tourist spot. Old cobblestone streets and quaint picturesque buildings, gives it a rustic vibe.
I had breakfast at small panadería that served an amazing croissant. Next was a trip to the farmacia to see if I can get hold of this gel for my blister, however in Spain I would need a prescription for it.
The tourist office opened at 1000h, after grabbing a stamp and finding the way to the supermarket, I stocked up on deodorant and soap. Next to it, was a bar, perfect place to hobble over to for a cold drink.
Then I took a stroll through the town, that now has come to life. If it wasn’t for my pilgrim walk, I would have been around it in 10min – it’s a small place.
As the bell from the church rang for 1200h, it signalled tortilla and beer time. Before long it was time to check into the hotel. A streak of sunlight from the Juliet balcony allowed me to dry my still wet rucksack and gear.
After a shower I lounged in the Sun on the terrace with a couple of beers, taking full advantage of a relaxing rest day on the Camino.
Hopefully tomorrow my blister will be dry enough to continue the Camino. I’ve bought some compeed on advice from the pharmacist, fingers crossed it will work.
You have good days on the Camino and occasionally you get a bad day, and that was today. The rain from yesterday carried on constantly.
The customary hill to start the day takes you to the main road that you follow until the river. The route then follows the banks and cuts through modern villages into Oruña where the Camino finally crosses the Ria de Mogro.
After a tortilla it was back into the rain. It was literally all by road with the occasional country lane. The dull weather matched the aesthetic of the this section.
Around 1300h I arrived into Barreda, completely fed up of the busy road and the weather – not to mention my toe was very tender.
By this point most of the distance had been covered, and visualising a dry albergue and warm shower, I pressed on foregoing lunch.
At Viveda, the route finally went into the countryside, fields of corn and small holdings became my backdrop. If it wasn’t for the rain and my sore toe, I would have been skipping into Santillana.
Instead I burst through the doors of the albergue as a big blue wet mass. I had spent the entire day in my poncho! Not a pleasant look nor smell!
Here the young Israeli couple I met in Markina, had checked in after spending a few days in Santander; they caught the train to Santillana and plan to walk some short stages. It was fantastic to see my friends again – Camino magic!
Once booked in I treated myself to the washing machine and dryer – clean smelling clothes!
My blister was as grim as the weather. A good clean and iodine bath ensued; a fellow pilgrim gave me some antibiotic gel to put on it. I think it will be all right.
The Camino is a great experience, and one that everyone should undertake, but there is cost that every peregrino must pay, and that is ‘Ampollas’.
It was a long day yesterday and before I knew it, it was 0800h – just made it to breakfast. Coincidently it was the same time as sunrise. The view from the albergue was something else.
From the long walk yesterday I had developed a large blister, one I should have dealt with before going to bed. But the with all the pilgrim activities and communal dinner, it was the morning before I addressed the problem.
According to the albergue volunteers it is 15km to the boat that takes you into Santander. I went the coastal route as recommended, and it didn’t disappoint. Stunning rock formations, sandy beaches and crashing waves.
The path drops down to the beach that you follow to the mouth of the estuary. I didn’t take off my trainers this time as I had bandaged my freshly treated blister.
I followed the line of pilgrims along the shoreline to the ferry point – this time from a jetty not the beach.
Familiar faces queued up for the boat to Santander. Henry from France who I had been crossing paths with since Irún was there. Despite I can’t speak French we managed to build a pilgrim bond, and haphazardly reading between my non existent French and his equally limited English, we established that Santander would be the point we would part ways. – we shook hands and said ¡Buen Camino!
Once the ferry dropped us off, we headed to the cathedral to buy a new credential, John’s and mine had now run out of space. I called into a farmacia for some supplies for the ampollas tax, then grabbed lunch.
The weather changed to heavy showers, forcing us to put on the ponchos. It was all road out of Santander, following a busy one until the suburb of Penacastillo.
The route goes more country road. My already sore toe started to get worse, as if I had something digging in between my 3rd and 4th. I had to assess the blister.
My iodine bandage I had applied this morning was saturated. I pulled it off revealing the damage, it had gone over the top of the toe – the upper layer of skin had been removed, over most of my fourth toe on my right foot.
I had applied a gel tube bandage I picked up from the farmacia, which felt a lot better, and pressed on. I knew I had to get the wound cleaned and disinfected asap, so I went full steam ahead – I still had 8-9km to go.
I raced past John and Elliot. The Route was pretty much road walking all the way, nothing exciting – the on and off showers were the only source of entertainment.
I got into the albergue and immediately put my foot under the tap to clean my open blister. I had a shower and went to the bar. Jenny was there and I met a new pilgrim from Canada called Chris. We all had the pilgrims meal, but I needed to have a few drinks as I still had to pay the ampollas tax.
I moved into the main bar where with my pigeon Spanish and the aid of google translate, I seeked advice from a couple of friendly locals that I got talking to. Despite the language barrier we had a laugh – mostly at my expense.
Then came the time to pay the ampollas dues, I had to sterilise my blister. I locked myself in the albergue bathroom, put my belt in my mouth and flooded my toe in iodine. – ampollas tax paid.
Hopefully it will dry out tomorrow and won’t give me too much grief. Having done a long stage today, we have eaten in to the 36km stage, meaning it is now only a 25km walk.
Gronze warned it would be a long one today, and it wasn’t wrong. Broke the 30km mark for the first time on this Camino.
A flat gentle stroll along the promenade for an hour to reach the ferry to Santoña. Hardly anyone about and the view across the bay in the morning Sun was a picture of tranquility.
The ferry picks you up from the beach with the first trip at 0900h and every 15mins afterwards, a quick trip across the small estuary and you are in Santoña. Looking back, the view was brilliant.
We had breakfast at a café then continued, passing the towering stone walls to a prison. A hill in front progressively got closer and at the foot, we had a decision to make. Take the official route or the road – official we went.
It was a narrow, rocky, winding path through shrubbery. Uneven and steep in places; Neill lost his footing and ended up like a turtle – thankfully no injuries.
All the hardship had payed off, as we rounded the hill, a huge sandy beach stretched out to Noja on the horizon. The path down to the beach behaved, and we were on the soft sand.
Here I met Elliot from Wales, on his first Camino and aiming form Santiago. I followed the line of pilgrims enjoying the sea air and golden beach.
Wanting to remain on the beach I had to navigate a small stream. I unlaced my trainers and paddled across. The cold water was heaven for my feet. So good I walked the rest of the way in the surf.
At Noja, I rinsed the sand of my feet and called into a bar for a tortilla. It was undulating country roads for the last 15km, with the heat, it was a bit of a slog. On the way I met more perregrinos, with Santiago in their sights. Sophie from Austria, two from Oregon USA.
The Albergue sits on a hill, a 20min walk from Güemes. A great Donitivo, a life’s passion for the owner. He has kept on building it up over decades with the help of volunteers.
He had led a life you wouldn’t believe. At the age of 12 he was a shepherd, then became a priest, was involved with worker’s rights campaigns, arrested and put into prison. When he got out, he bought a Land Rover, drove all around Europe and North Africa, then put it on a boat to South America and drove all around there. Then returned in the 80s to make the albergue, and at the age of 87 he is still working.
The difference the Sun makes to a day of walking cannot be understated. Blue skies all the way today!
It’s a small hill to tackle straight off the bat giving views back at Castro Urdiales and along the coastline ahead. Eventually it dropped to the coast, passing through a grove with goats weaving through the trunks.
Following the rugged shore high above, the sea to my right and mountains to my left, I was in heaven. Every 100 metres was a new view – I was in my element and happy.
The way joins the main coastal road unfortunately, but I was treated to a panoramic view of a sandy bay with surfers catching the waves.
The route splits at this point, the official way and the coastal way. I listened to my gut and went up the hill away from the shore – I wasn’t going to repeat yesterday’s experience. Despite having done 10km already, the sign said 22km to Laredo, and over 5hrs walk – challenge excepted.
Quiet country roads ensued, the traffic mostly cyclists, far better than the main road. When I got to Rioseco, I was ready for a cold drink. I pulled into a bar and there was Lina and Marcus, Camino magic!
The three of us walked out of the village to tackle the biggest of today’s hills, and my companion’s last; they are catching the bus at the next village to return to Bilbao. I took a goodbye selfie and I began the ascent.
Through the eucalyptus wood, it led me to a secluded hamlet and down to an equally remote valley with stunning views – the landscape has changed since entering the Cantabria region.
The route drops into the village Sopeña where I caught up with Jürgen. He was struggling with a pain in the front of his leg. Spotting a shaded bench in a park, we pulled over and I passed him some ibuprofen gel.
When I reached the next village, it was time for a cold beer. I stopped at the bar joining a table with Connie from Seattle. She is going to Santiago and started in Bayonne, the same day as me! Shortly after we were joined by Tim from Indiana, who too is going all the way.
The second hill of the day followed which lead back to the main road, that I had to follow for a while before the official route veers off. Again through tiny hamlets and quiet roads, I enjoyed the peace.
Before long I arrived into Laredo (5 hours 49 minutes in total – I beat that sign!) stopping at the Donitivo ‘Casa de la Trinidad’. A convent, but now an albergue, but still run by the nuns. I was warmly greeted and given a cool glass of lemon water, just what I needed for this scorching day.
Once chores were done, I headed out to a bar Neill had already scouted. Outside was Lina and Marcus, their connecting bus back to Bilbao would be picking them up there. Camino magic! – This time we said our final Camino goodbyes.
At 1800h I attended the pilgrims blessing, where the nuns sang angelic songs and individually blessed the peregrinos in attendance – a magical moment.
For dinner myself, Jürgen, Vanessa, Neill and John went to a nearby restaurant, where we discussed tomorrow’s plans. It’s a long one!
After breakfast we headed on out, up a hill as always – Neill and John took full advantage of the escalators (a common feature in the hilly towns)
The route follows some impressive infrastructure. A footpath and cycle lane takes you over the roads, the motorways and an impressive spaghetti junction.
About an hour and a half into the walk, the dry weather changed to a light shower that progressively got worse – Poncho time.
Just after Abanto-Zierbena there are conflicting signs for the route. The official carved wooden one pointing to the right and numerous yellow arrows pointing to the left. My gut was trusting in the arrows and after consulting Gronze Maps, it was justified.
Here the route dips under the motorway following a red brick path all the way to the coast. Many passing locals wished me “¡Buen Camino!” As we arrived into La Arena, the Sun was out to present a glorious sandy beach.
We stopped for a tortilla y potata and stripped off the ponchos. The way then follows the beach along a boardwalk, up a forested hill. At the top the rain returned; I had a feeling it would be a passing shower. I huddled under a tree waiting it out, not wanting to pull out my poncho again.
My gut was right again, 10 minutes later the sun returned. From there the Camino follows the coast, passing through a tunnel cut into a small headland and then on to Onton.
At the village I had a choice of the official route or the coastal route. My gut was saying the official way, however, having opted for the official route a few days back and missing some stunning views, I overridden my gut on this occasion.
I almost instantly regretted. It was all by road following the N-634, that snaked its way into Mioño; at some points very dangerous, with blind bends and no verges to step out of the way – I should have listened to my gut.
Glad to reach the village; outside a bar I spotted Ronni. I stopped for a drink with him. I was then joined by Jenny from Colombia and eventually John and Neill.
After a couple of beers enjoying the Sun I continued on to Castro Urdiales. A beautiful coastal town with a church and castle/lighthouse on a small headland, prominently watching over the sea.
The Albergue is 1.5km from the centre up a gradual hill. As I approached I was delighted to see Lina and Marcus – I had caught up with them.
Only problem was, the albergue was full. A quick search on Gronze, I found a Pension back in town and reserved a triple room so John, Neill and I could split the cost.
In the evening we met up with Lina, Marcus, Jürgen and Vanessa (a pilgrim I shared a dorm with in San Sebastián), for a meal and drinks.
Poncho time again. The rain was still pouring when I left the hostel. The route pretty much follows one of the main roads from east to west of the city.
There was a hive of activity with people walking their children to school and making their way into work – a mass of umbrellas.
Once I reached the west side, the first ascent through a park began. The path was a little slippery and not to repeat my acrobatics from yesterday, I took my time.
At the top, I had panoramic views of Bilbao; the city is huge, it goes way back up the valley, and with the towns of Barakaldo and Sestao that all seem to merge into one, it is like one huge urban mass.
The way then dips down to a small industrial village then back up a winding road for the second and last-ish hill of the day. From here you can truly see the extent of urban mass.
It was a relatively gentle descent into Barakaldo. Outside a bar, two back packs were propped up against a chair – pilgrims!
I called in for an ‘Aquarius’ and a tortilla y potata. Sat at the bar were two familiar faces from the last week – I got chatting with them.
Ronni from Isreal and Jürgen from Germany, I had seen them a few times since Irún, but this was the first time I had talked to them. They are both going all the way to Santiago.
The route follows the banks of the Castanos Erreka, there seemed to be a steady stream of large fish swimming up the middle of the river – absolutely loads of them.
After crossing the river, the Camino rises up past a train station and through Sestao. Another hive of activity with people going about to their business. It then gives a lofty views of the river Nerbiol Ibaia – the huge river that goes from the coast to the Bilbao.
A short walk later I was in Portugalete the end of today’s stage. The town is famous for it’s transporter bridge, an engineering marvel of its time that formed the basis of many similar bridges across the world.
The rain arrived with a vengeance, hammering it down from the early hours and didn’t let up until a brief period in the afternoon.
We grabbed breakfast at the bar, donned the ponchos and began Day 9. It was flat roadside walking for 7km before the start of the only climb of the day.
The path leaves the concrete onto a gravel track with gushing streams of deluge, running off the hill – I was practically wading.
The views were obscured by the cloud cover – it was just an upward, wet slog. At the top you enter a country park to begin the descent into Bilbao.
The outskirts of the city is very steep and the rainwater had turned the roads in water slide – I ended up doing a superman impression.
The descent didn’t let up until well into the city, where it leads you to the river, over a bridge then along the other bank, where my Hostel is located.
I was soaked. the rain was so heavy and constant, the Goretex in my trainers had failed and it even overwhelmed my poncho – unfortunately my credential also suffered.
John and Neill eventually arrived and we all went to get some food. I then visited the Guggenheim. Art work is a little lost on me, but I had all afternoon in Bilbao, as it was a short 14km stage.
The whole Camino gang met up Plaza Nueva, a square surrounded by tapas and pincho bars. We dined on good food and drink, however we were treated to a little bit of Camino Magic, Lyn from Amsterdam was there!
It was one last get together with everyone I had been walking with, before we split. The group are either finishing in Bilbao, skipping ahead or spending an extra day in the city.
I have been told the worst of the walk is now behind me, with the route getting easier past Bilbao. Just as well as my trainers aren’t dry yet!
After breakfast at the Albergue we hit the road, as usual it was up hill. Olabe is just short of the stage end, as Gernika didn’t have an Albergue. The 8km to the town I spent walking with a German pilgrim Nico.
We had great conversations and laughter that made the distances fly by. Mostly forest tracks led us to Gernika, with a small hill to contend with.
We called into a cafe for second breakfast before making our way through the town with difficulty spotting the arrows. Just like the Camino Frances, towns are hard to navigate.
With the help of Gronce maps we got back on track, heading back up into the hills, the first of the two between Gernika and Larrabetzu.
We caught up with Astrid, a German peregrino I first met in Irún. She had the dreaded bed bug encounter at the municipal albergue in Markina. She took a rest day to cleanse her gear.
The route continues on through an eucalyptus forest before descending shortly and then hitting the biggest hill for the day. A very long drawn out incline over 8km or so. All in woodlands which kept the Sun off me – again luck on my side as the afternoon was forecasted rain.
There was a constant strong breeze, synonymous of a change in weather, kept the walking comfortable.
It was a peaceful stage, nothing but the wind in the trees and birdsong filled the air, the occasional lizard would scurry across the path and I spotted two colourful slow worms.
The way leaves the forest to join a single track country road into a small village, where at the church 6 walkers in their 70s stepped off the bus. One lady was splashing her companions with water, as I passed she pretended to splash me, I said “¡Sí!“, so she did, we all had a laugh.
It was pavement walking into Larrabetzu, straight to the Donitivo Albergue with only 11 bed – no bunks!
Neill was there! He had walked from Gernika. Eventually John, Nico, Di, Lina and Markus arrived. We all had a few drinks and food at a local bar to end the day.
In contrast with the walk so far, today was the easiest. For the first 5km it was flat but the only real climb came at 13km, by 1300h I reached my destination.
I had the best night sleep on this Camino so far, I closed my eyes at lights out and opened them when the albergue began to stir, as the peregrinos started their day. A young Israeli couple in the bunk opposite had left behind a jumper; knowing that I would meet them again I brought it along with me.
After calling into a shop in town for more fruit, the route out followed the river into the countryside, past a quarry high up above. Outside the village ‘Ziortza-Bolibar’, I reunited the lost jumper with its owner, it was also here I bumped into Eugene.
After a quick catch up I pressed on, enjoying the sunshine and the views. After descending a flight of wooden steps through a forest, I met three ladies from the UK. They had set off from Ziortza and had encountered the dreaded bed bugs at the albergue!
Leaving Gerrikaitz was up hill, the biggest challenge for the day, but nothing too strenuous in comparison with the journey thus far. Again admiring the views the kilometres sped by, and by 1300h I was in Olabe.
The Albergue opened at 1500h, giving me time to have lunch at the local bar and catch up with pilgrims I had met over the last few days. Most were going on to Gernika.
It was another communal meal shared with Camino friends from the past 7 days. Di who I had walked with between Irún to San Sebastián, Lina and her father Markus and John, however, unfortunately Neill was missing.
Yesterday was a tough one for him, so he took a bus to Bilbao to take a rest day. Hopefully I will see him there.
Stu's Camino 