We set out on our journey from Irun to San Sebastián at precisely 6:45 am, expecting the quiet promise of dawn. However, the streets of Irun were unusually lively for this early hour; the aftermath of the previous night's festivities lingered in the air. Revelers, reluctant to let go of the night, loitered in groups, their laughter and discourse blending with the quiet hum of the early morning traffic.
Leaving Irun behind, we found ourselves on the Camino del Norte, its path taking us through the outskirts of the city. Not long after crossing the city limits, we faced our first challenge: an arduous climb uphill. The ascent was steep, and our muscles protested as we pushed forward. The route led us through the El Purgatorio alternate, a path known for its steep inclines and intended for the "mountaineering peregrinos." The name was fitting; the climb felt punishing.
As we hiked past the steepest portion, the weather began to change. A fine mist settled over us, gradually turning into a steady drizzle. The rain, though gentle, added a layer of complexity to our trek. The path became slippery, and the mist cloaked our surroundings in a veil of fog, obscuring the panoramic views we had hoped to enjoy.
Despite the weather, the landscape was mesmerizing. We walked through rolling hills dotted with horses, cattle, and sheep. These animals, seemingly indifferent to the rain, grazed peacefully, adding a pastoral charm to the misty scenery. Along the ridgeline, historic markers stood as silent witnesses to the countless pilgrims who had passed this way before us.
The rain persisted as we began our descent into Pasaia de San Juan. The trail was slick, making each step a careful calculation to avoid slipping. Psycho slipped onto his backside one time, and almost slipped several other times. He constantly mimicked the squishing noise of his shoes hitting puddles of silty nud.
By the time we reached the town, we were thoroughly soaked and eager for a respite. Pasaia de San Juan welcomed us with its narrow streets and charming waterfront. We sought refuge in a small café, ordering café con leche and pintxos. The warmth of the café and the comforting food revitalized us, and we took our time to try to dry off and savor the local flavors. It was only seven dollars for two drinks, and two food dishes!
After our break, we continued towards the ferry. The banks of the passage were lined with heaps of anchor chains and scrap metal, a testament to the town’s maritime nature. As we descended to the waterfront, the dense buildings and cobblestone paths guided us to the ferry dock. The ferry itself was a modest vessel, capable of carrying about ten people. We boarded with a handful of other passengers, and the boat set off across the passage.
On the other side, the city was alive with excitement. Rowing teams were competing in a traditional boat race, their rhythmic strokes and the cheering of spectators creating an infectious energy. We paused to watch for a moment, but we knew miles (or kilometers) had to be made.