There are some big mountains coming up.

En route from Orbaiceta to casas de Irati

Burguete to Ochagavia

We had been advised yesterday afternoon by the local bakery that if we wanted to buy fresh bread in the morning, to get there early. The crowds of foreign visiting Camino de Santiago walkers had to be seen to be believed. We hadn't noticed them yesterdsy evening but there was a queue at the panaderia at 7am, and after buying enough bread to see us through 3 days, we found a cafe to have a coffee and breakfast. It was packed with Camino walkers. I asked to overworked proprietor if it was like this all the time and he said no, in the summer it was worse. Well i figured the guy was making a small fortune selling coffee and sandwiches to tourists so i didn't feel too sorry for him, though i have to say he earned his money. Navarra is beautiful. It looks like Switzerland. Walking out of Burguete we finally have sun, and instead of immediately having to launch into a vertical assault as so often you have to start your mornings with on the GR11, we had a pleasant, level stroll along the road to Roncesvalles. For the next 20 kms we are walking through part of the Camino de Santiago though in the opposite direction, in other words away from Santiago. Roncesvalles is the first group of buildings the Santiago walkers come to in Spain, after walking up and over the Pyrennees from France, crossing the border at Gainekoleta (Gaine means mountain pass is Esukera, the Basque tongue). From Roncesvalles its a slow grind uphill to the pass and then we climb above the treeline to meet the French border again. We can't help but notice the wide, well surfaced and well signposted track that the Camino de Santiago walkers get to enjoy. We also can't help but notice the c rowds that are walking it. Fortunately, shortly after we get to the French border, our path diverges and we follow the remains of an old Roman road at an altitude of about 1000 mtrs above sea level. Finally we leave the tourist crowds to their tourist walk and we move up into the hills and the quiet of the countryside. As soon as we are out of earshot of the tourist hordes, we stop and make sandwiches for lunch,enjoying the solitude, The weather is perfect and for the first time looking east we can see the peaks of the high Pyrenees in Aragon.

The hills of Navarra

 

Roncesvalles + Burguete in background.

At last, sunshine. Por fin ha salido el sol pero aun hace un biruji.

day 5. To Burgete.

Muchas gracias a los de Casa Pablo por ayudarnos. After thanking the two "guardians" of Casa Pablo for good food and a good time, we got an early start this morning + walked immediately into a steep 350 mtr vertical climb. Heavy mist, rain, + 30 knot wind. Almost lost our way again up on the tops due tn lack of visibility, lack of signage, and an error in our guide book. We stumbled around in the rain up in the high meadow, finally hearing a couple of Spanish hikers yelling at us from a small shelter. They were heading in the opposite direction to us and were also lost, but we were able to give them directions to get down to Casa Pablo, and they were able to direct us in the direction from where they had come from! So we found our way down to the next valley and into the village of Burguete (Auritz in the Basque language). We had walked only 10 kms but the weather was too bad to continue and we were soaked so the rest of the days play was called off. We knew that tomorrow we would be starting on a 3 day section of the GR11 without passing any villages so we would need to purchase food. Also we were wet and needed to dry out. After stopping at a store to buy food, we strolled into the town to investigate accommodation. At this point we had figured out that here in Burguete, and for part of tomorrow's walk, the GR11 runs parallel with the Camino de Santiago. What we didn't realize is how much of a mass tourist business the Camino de Santiago was. Finding cheap accommodation in Burguete was impossible. The cheap places were full so we finally found a "Casa Rural" which is sort of like an English Bed and Breakfast place but without the breakfast. The elderly widow whose house it was, ran it like a Nazi concentration camp, with no noise allowed, no wastage of hot water, even going into our rooms when we weren't there and rearranging our stuff. However it was a pretty village and as the rain had stopped we had a good look around and found a bar with food for dinner.

1st time camping

Urkiaga to Casa Pablo

Woke up inside the tent to the sound of rain. Crawling out of a warm and dry sleeping bag in the tight confines of a mountain tent is hard enough without having to eject yourself half dressed into a cold rain, pack up and have a quick breakfast of cold porridge, throw 20 kilos of wet pack on your back and off uphill. The track was nothing but mud and as we moved higher the mist grew thicker. There is a poem by Antonio Machado that goes "Caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar" (tr. Walker, there is no path, the path is made by walking). We had been warned yesterday about the very poor state of trail directions and markers in Navarra, and today we really began to understand how bad it was. At 1200 metres altitude, visibility was down to a distance of 20 mtrs with cold drizzle and wind . We lost the way at this point and descended steeply into a valley to try and find our way. We were lost in a thick mist. We retraced our steps, a steep half hour climb. Chris B went off to scout and found an old marker. The track was nonexistant but we knew the heading we had to take so headed downhill into another valley in the mist, taking about an hour to climb down about 300 vertical mtrs til we came to a river. We followed the river for 2 kms and came to a road. Another kilometer and we arrived at Casa Pablo, a "Refugio" with bar, restaurant and bunk rooms. We were soaked but very relieved. Lunch and a cup of hot coffee went down really well! There were only 2 other guests at Casa Pablo, 2 very fit guys from Cantabria who were determined to walk the entire GR11 in 30 days. They were complaining bitterly about the lack of decent signage on this section of the GR11 which had slowed them down. Casa Pablo was run by a couple of "Guardians", a guy and a woman who were paid by the local district council who owned the Refugio. Casa Pablo was way out in the countryside with no retail stores within walkin distance, and I needed to by some fuel for our gas cooker. I explained my problem and the guy offered to give me a lift to a gas station where I could buy unleaded petrol, which my cooker could work with. After that we sat down to a brilliant hot meal cooked by the woman, and drank wine and celebrated walking the GR11 with our 2 new Cantabrian friends.

September 2nd Elizondo to Puerto de Urkiaga 18km

A 6am start and both Chris B and Chris J very hungover from the "rest" day. Everything was shrouded with fog. Upon leaving the town, the GR 11 led us immediately into a steep, hard, 3 hour climb; we had yet to find out that this would be the standard procedure for most of our mornings on the GR11. A real grind up through misty beech forest and farmland with the dull clonking sound of cowbells everywhere. Part way up we were greeted by an elderly gentleman who was walking down the path aided by a stout walking stick. Beret (or 'boina' as it is called around here) firmly in place on his head, he informed me cheerily that he had already walked up to the top this morning and did so every morning. They breed these Basques out of tough material. We finally climbed above the cloud at 800 metres above sea level and were greeted by a few local hunters who, after hearing that we had come all the way from New Zealand, invited us into the large cabin which was there base for hunting, though I suspect it was also a place to escape from their wives. Fitted out with a rustic kitchen, long wooden dining table and lounge area, as well as bunks, it was a snug haven in the mountains. Chimney ablaze, they gave us each a strong cup of coffee and then, after hearing that my wife is from Catalonia, they broke out a few bottles of ice-cold Catalan Cava. Champagne breakfast, just what the two hungover Chris's needed. We chatted with the local hunters for a while, getting a fair bit of local knowledge about what lay ahead, and then moved on, climbing steadily. Reached the French border at 1000 mtrs above sea level, weather perfect. Our highest point so far. Began the descent noting that the track markings had deteriorated and the track itself had disappeared but navigated our way down to Puerto de Urkiaga (800 mtrs above sea level) and camped for the first time. It wasn´t the most pleasant of places to camp but it was too late to push on. We then discovered that the fuel we had purchased in a hardware store in Hondarribia was not meths as we thought it was but kerosene. The cooker didn´t function with kero so it was a cold can of sardines for dinner. Nice...not.

Leaving Elizondo

 

Climbing into the sun

 

France frontier

Altitude 1000 mtrs for 1st time. We are exactly on the border of France and Spain as indicated by the large stone in front of us. Photo taken by helpful French tramper.

Giant slugs in Navarra

 

¡Vaya babosa! The way through Navarra was littered with these giant slugs, some of them up to 150mm long!

September 1. Rest day in Elizondo.

The day of rest for Mr. Bennett and Mr. Jackson turned into a day of fiesta. After an excellent lunch at the Fonda Eskisaroi hotel with 2 bottles of vino rosado Las Campanas (we are now in Navarra, renowned for its rosé wine), we moved to a small bar next to the river. The basque tipple Patxaran was ordered and after a glass I retired for a siesta but they stayed to finish the bottle and smoke cuban cigars. By the time I woke up in the early evening both of them were unconscious in bed. I went for a stroll, came back and was getting ready in the room to go down for dinner. Gamely Chris J came too. We polished off another bottle of Las Campanas together with the stew. Good going.

La Eglesia de Elizondo

 

Lost above the clouds by 8.30am.

Friday 31 August 2007 Vera de Bidasoa to Elizondo 30km

Un dia muy largo, muy duro. A long and hard day. We walked 33 kms in total. Should have been 30 but we managed to get lost and walked about 3 kilometres into France before we figured out we were going the wrong way. Fortunately we got a lift off a local french farmer who dropped us back over the border and showed us the way we should have gone. Total vertical climb for the day 1150 metres and the worst part was the last 7 kms where we dropped about 900 metres down to the village of Elizondo. We were buggered. Hechos polvo. Quedamos en una pension por la noche y mañana será un dia de descanso. We found a cheap hotel for the night and tomorrow is a rest day. The feet are now so sore that standing in the shower hurts. Chris Bennett came up with the brilliant idea of putting the bathmat inside the shower to pad the shower base. Our next walking section will be a long climb of 1100 metres over 18 kilometres and for the first time we will be camping out in the mountains. I am just hoping that the weather holds out for the next two days. It has been threatening to rain.

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30 August 2007 Hondarribia to Vera de Bidasoa 35 kms

Having walked the short few kilometres from Cabo Higuer (after dipping ourselves in the briny Atlantic) back to Hondarribia yesterday, today was our first day of on the real trail, packs on backs, with 35 kilometres of up and down trails to get to Bera (or Vera) de Bidasoa tonight.
We rolled out of the bunks at the crack of dawn. I had been awake already for a little while thinking about what lay ahead and wondering if my body could put up with what I had planned for it. I was sure that I had done my homework on the right equipment, it was just a case of seeing if the feet, legs, back, etc., could withstand the sudden change in lifestyle.
We had a breakfast of muesli and didn't say too much; I think we all suddenly realised that we did not have a clue about what lay ahead of us. We walked out of the hostel and down the hill to the edge of the water. It was raining lightly. Walking along the beachside road towards the centre of Hondarribia, we discussed the first section of about 5 kilometres which involved walking along a busy main road out of Hondarribia and then through the industrial part of Irun and then over and under a couple of motorways before finally reaching the beginnings of the countryside. We decided that it was stupid to walk through an industrial area and negotiate our way over, around and under motorways. We didn't travel halfway around the world to do that. So we did what any intelligent tramper would do; we caught a taxi. The taxi driver knew exactly where we needed to go and took us just to the other side of the main motorway that comes down from France into Spain. He pointed up the forested hill to a small church and waved us goodbye as we shouldered our 20 kilo packs and started the first of many uphill grinds. As I started walking through the green and lush Basque countryside, suddenly everything seemed so right and I felt myself feeling like it was all going to be OK. It had stopped raining but the little streams beside the track were running with water. It sounded good.
It was pleasant walking at first and we stopped for an early lunch at San Anton, a bar / restaurant. We didn't buy a meal there though we bought a couple of beers each and sat outside in the garden and made sandwiches and discussed how civilised it was to drink beer while tramping.
Pushing on, the going got steeper and tougher. We alternated walking in open countryside and forest. At one point we were very close to, though out of sight of, a couple of hunters out shooting birds. We became a little nervous as they appeared to get closer and closer, and it sounded like they had shares in an ammunition factory by the way they were firing through rounds. Finally we could see the village of Vera way down in the valley but it appeared that we had to follow a ridge all the way around to the south before we could begin the climb down to the village. It was our first day and after 30 kms with the full weight of the pack the feet were very sore. We began the descent down to the village and that was when it became clear to all of us that the descents were always going to be harder than the climbs. By the time we got down to the level of the village our feet were burning, not from blisters but just the pressure of weight, and having to constantly push with your feet against the steep downhill slope to reduce your speed. We found a hotel, dropped our packs and without even bothering to go to our room we sat in the bar and I introduced my travelling companions to the wonders of cold Basque cider. It was a moment of bliss.

lunch @ san anton

20 kms into our 1st days hike. A stop for lunch and a rest then 10 kms more to Vera de Bidasoa for the night. Might rain this afternoon.

End of day 1

35 kms from Hondarribia we arrive at the beautiful village of Vera de Bidasoa. Very tired and sore but tomorrow we have another up and down 30 kilometre walk to the village of Elizondo.