Into Spain – San Sebastián – Donastia
Zagan the motorhome has the feeling he’s following the shadow of a revered ghost, parked just a few meters from where his predecessor Dave held station four years ago. We’re in the motorhome aire (the autokarabanak no less) in San Sebastian (or as we’re in Basque country here, I’m guessing more properly we should call it Donastia) – N43.30796 W2.01485. The aire costs a whole €3.25 a night, and you’re allowed to stay for up to 72 hours. We know something of this city and how improbably beautiful and relaxed it is, so we’ve bought a 3 day ticket. Yup, we’re lucky sods.
The motorhome aire in San Sebastian.
Once in a while we get to meet some cracking characters out on the road. Last night David invited us over to his motorhome with a wave, on his way back from walking his whippet Ziggy (named after Mr Stardust) on the Capbreton beach. He’d a bottle of rioja on the table, alongside 3 glasses and a couple of bowls of nibbles. Hospitality sorted, Ziggy curled up at our feet and we spent the evening questioning and listening. David, you see, is 72, although his eyes didn’t betray this fact, sharp and glistening as though they were backlit. Since being set free by early retirement in his late 50’s he’s travelled, in one guise or another. He referred to us as ‘babies’, not to condescend I think, but more to illustrate our potential. I loved that. He was on his way back to the UK having visited one of his sons, who now lives in Gibraltar.
Slight detour from the story – if you’re after a mini-donkey – here’s where to get one.
Overland from China to Istanbul, he’d retraced the silk route in the direction the silk would have flowed, using public transport. Having turned semi-pro photographer, he paid for the trip selling the images he’d captured, exhibiting them and giving talks. India, he told us, is a place we should dedicate ourselves to visiting. Various forays into Africa and the far east, some of the poorest countries on Earth, hadn’t prepared him for the place. For that matter, he’d not prepared himself for the place either he admitted with a smile, immediately struggling on arrival with getting his hands on local currency, and finding his pre-booked hotel had, ah, unbooked itself and was now full? I almost felt the pain of a fall David described, being launched from his motorbike accelerating up the bank of a dry riverbed on a piste road between the desert-rock Dades and Todra gorges in Morocco (we visited these places in a much more sedate fashion!).
There’s something very powerful about listening to people like David. His stories were told with passion, but without ego. Matter-of-fact. Like a sail being strung up from our mast I felt driven forwards, petty fears peeled away by the sheer range of his wanderings and the open way in which he’d travelled, often on foot with a backpack, or close to the world on a motorbike. As Steve Jobs once said, we’re all already naked in the face of death, so might as well just get the hell out there and go for it, once you’ve found your ‘it’.
Having said that, once I’d woken up (after the best part of a bottle of rioja), a distant memory came to the fore, a memory of a bit of a crappy drive to be faced down to get us here. The corner of the Bay of Biscay, where Spain and France meet, is hemmed in by the foothills of the Pyrenees. The roads are edged out towards the coast, traffic between the two countries is funnelled down and seems to speed up accordingly. Taking the fast-flowing but toll motorway would probably have been a good idea, but Mr Tight had other ideas. I opted to take the back roads the same as last time, which I half-regret again like last time, since they’re a steady hassle of endless 800m-separated roundabouts, traffic-in-a-HURRY, and weird-ass indecipherable splayed-out junctions. I have an idea sometimes that driving a motorhome is akin to riding a lumbering elephant, while being harassed by nimble hyenas. Once the lunging, cackling cars and motorbikes have finally made it past you, I’ve noticed they start to nip at each other.
Fast, toll road to the left, temporarily fast non-toll to the right, mountains ahead.
Bayonne, Barritz, Anglet, St-Jean-de-Luz, all merged. Joining the roundabout dots we eventually flowed out alongside the toll road for a few km, speeding up to an entire 50mph before the road gently lifted upwards and rolled away downwards into Spain. We missed the border, although somehow became aware we’d crossed into a new country. It could have been the road signs, as the numbering convention is different here, dunno. I’d already made sure the backs of my crocs were down behind my ankles, I have a feeling wearing them without the back strap in place would be illegal here?
Lad wheelies down the road in front of us. I honked appreciation and gave a thumbs-up as he U-turned for another go back again. He let out a wide grin. Sweet.
The signs, by the way, had already sported two names for each town for some miles. As I said, we’re in Basque country, a confusing thing for me. The Basques are an ethnic group who live in territory which is now dissected by the Spanish-French border. They have their own language, so town names, and everything else for that matter, have two versions. ‘San Sebastian’ is Saint Sebastian in Spanish, as Donastia is Saint Sebastian in Basque. Even ‘Basque’ has a different name in Basque – Euskadi. It seems illogical and inefficient to use two languages in the same place, but just glancing at Donastia, it doesn’t appear to have had any ill effect on the ground. The place is magnificent.
Gotta love junctions just after tunnels – they keep you sharp while satnav finds herself!
After making the same navigational errors we did the last time we came (the roads around here are best navigated by knowing them inside out), we reversed into place in the aire. And chilled. No rushing about to leg it into the city. Just a brew, and a read. Ju had a crack at massaging out the knife in my back which I get whenever I’m back-roading it. I had a read, my feet in the sun on the dash, Ju had a siesta. Maybe we’re finally getting into the more loping rhythm we hoped to find?
After an hour or two we walked the mile to the beach, following the cycle path past the university awash with olive-skinned babies (they’re even younger than us!), checking out the price to rent electric bikes, and fooled about in the pristine water of the bay. San Sebastian would make a fitting backdrop for a Game of Thrones city, albeit with the more modern sea-facing buildings replaced with the medieval?
3:30pm on a Monday afternoon – good time to go stand-up boarding around the bay. I’ve been here just a few hours and am jealous of the locals already.
San Sebastian
Mogwai (Basque for ‘Charlie’) turns back to a puppy when he’s on a beach, running around like a dog-fool.
Many canine ‘holas’ were said on the beach.
Yeah, baby.
Mogwai realised he’s getting on a bit on the walk home though; Ju gave him a wee lift.
Plans are being drawn up for the next 3 nights, although tonight we’re hunkering down with a beef casserole and a glass of wine. Pintxos (tapas) is out there. Waiting for us.
Cheers, Jay
Hola, Jay, had to laugh, junctions after a tunnel (lol) you know it makes sense! ;-) Bon dia!
Sounds like your’e really hitting the groove now :-)
San Sebastián – Donastia is possibly our favourite Spanish City although I know what you mean about the drive there from France. We had road works too a few weeks ago when we visited but the Pintxos in the old town made us forget the journey. We looked for the busiest bars and washed the delicacies down with a Solito then walked back to the autokarabanak in a howling storm. The €5 umbrella we bought was trashed and ended up in a dustbin after 200 metres – happy days. Enjoy your stay there and remember to say “eskerrik asko” rather than “gracias”.
Pat
Great trip so far! And revisiting sometimes is a bit like coming home, isn’t it? And meeting experienced travellers, what a blessing!
Nope, didn’t get the email :(
Hi Andrew. Hmmmm. I’ve slowed down the emails so they’re sent out over a number of hours, to avoid the 500 emails an hour limit. Can you do me a big favour and let me know in the morning if it’s still not arrived? Thanks man, all help appreciated, Jason
Your blog is so useful but more than that inspirational. I’m slowly reading my way through your past posts whilst at the same time keeping abreast of your latest travels. We are also fortunate to be heading off in our travels early in the new year and probably much the same do not have any firm plans of where we will visit along the way. I’m making lots of notes as I read away tho as we may as well learn from the experts. I’m a great lover of lists but I seem to have a new list on every available surface!! Keep up the good work but first and foremost enjoy your new life. We will certainly tread in some of your footsteps no doubt in our year (or do) away next year. Happy travels. Andi & Paul xxx
Still nothing…
Ok, thanks mate, will keep trying… Off out into San Sebastian first though. :-) cheers, Jay
You should embrace the signs in two languages as a sign of diversity and its not uncommon, Welsh and Gaelic in our own fair Isle (s) and Flemish in Belgium, I love to see it ( although I have wondered how to say a lot of them!!) Loving the blog,almost looking forward to winter now
I’ve come to the same conclusion Richard. There are (at least) two distinct cultures washing about here, and somehow they interact to boost the place. Maybe positive competition between the Spanish and Basque influences mean you get the best from both sides? The city seems a wonderful place, whatever the reasoning. The setting, the backdrop of the Pyrenees, the people come across as friendly, open and helpful, the university gives it vibrancy and those tapas bars are iconic. I very much enjoy it here. Wish I’d worn a jumper this morning though; flipping freezing in the fog that rolled in midday! Cheers, Jay
Hiya,
If you’re staying in the area then maybe worth a day at Hondarribia, you can park overnight in the marina car park near the beach (43.37814 -1.79646 Its a nice walk along the estuary into town.
There is also a good overnight spot up in the hills overlooking Hondarribia at the Guadaloupe Fort car park 43.36834 -1.82053 Some lovely walks up there for Charlie and lovely views of the bay for you. Not sure if the fort will be open this time of year though.
Cheers,
Pete
Try the cider houses just outside SanSebastion – there was one in mount Igueldo but there are others. Also a trip to Santa Clara (the island in the bay) you can catch a boat from the dock. Good time to visit is August for the Semana Grande festival (Great Week)
we will be heading for northern Spain and then Portugal as soon as we receive our insurance for Ned 2. will be following your latest closely. enjoy your road. g and f