Day 3: From Rocky Quayside to a Pilgrims Hostel

We rose early at 5 AM to get a start on a hot day on the Camino del Norte. The sky was still dark, with only a hint of dawn, and the air was cool, promising a few precious hours of relief before the heat of the day set in. We left Zarautz, the small town famous for its long sandy beach, an esteemed surfers destination, feeling both excited and a bit anxious about the journey ahead.

The first six kilometers to Getaria followed a quayside walk along the ocean. The path wound its way beside the crashing waves, the ocean spray creating a mist that almost kissed our faces as we walked. It was a mesmerizing sight: the sun slowly rising, casting a glittering reflection across the water's surface. We found it hard not to stop every few steps to take photos, capturing the beauty of the sunrise, the rugged coastline, and the character of the sea at dawn.

Our feet a little battered and bruised is usually easy to ignore on the trail, but while walking on a hard surface, we could hear the slightly altered gait of Apricots footsteps. Soon enough though we were trudging our marry way as the views were too majestic.

At 7 AM, we entered Getaria, greeted by the melodic chime of church bells. Getaria, a charming fishing village known for its medieval architecture and as the birthplace of Juan Sebastián Elcano, the first man to circumnavigate the globe, welcomed us warmly. As we walked through its narrow streets, Apricots exclaimed, "Every town is so cute I just want to boop it on the nose!" It was hard to disagree; Getaria, like many preceding towns called for us to live there.

Leaving Getaria, we faced a small climb that rewarded us with stunning views of the coastline before descending into Zumaia. Zumaia, known for its remarkable flysch formations, where ancient layers of rock are exposed along the cliffs, looked serene in the morning light. We found a cozy café and indulged in buttery croissants and café con leche. Sitting outside, we took off our shoes and let our feet breathe, enjoying the simple pleasure of the cool morning air.

By 9 AM, we were back on the road, climbing out of Zumaia into a more bucolic landscape. The path led us through rolling hills dotted with farmhouses, grazing sheep, cows, goats, and wildflowers. The heat was beginning to build, but the scenery was so idyllic that we hardly noticed. 

We took a short rest at the top of a hill, where an ice cream truck was parked, playing music. It was a welcome sight, but we passed on some ice cream instead favoring refilling our water bottles at a nearby tap. The momentary break gave us the energy to continue our journey. Apricots exclaimed that was "much needed respite."

After a small drop and another climb on paved roads, we entered a forested area. The shade provided by the trees was a blessing, offering us some protection from the sun. The forest was alive with birdsong, the chirping and tweeting creating a soothing soundtrack to our walk. The path was muddy in places, but the coolness of the forest made it bearable.

Our next significant stop was Itziar, a small village perched on a hilltop. The climb to Itziar was steep, but the reward was worth it. We found a shaded spot to rest and enjoyed a simple lunch. Nearby, the Sanctuary of the Virgin of Itziar, a beautiful church with a history dating back to the 8th century, provided a cool and peaceful retreat. Stepping inside, we were enveloped in comforting aroma, cool air, and sense of calm. The centuries-old walls held out the heat.

The final leg of our journey to Deba began with a steep descent. The path was challenging, and we were grateful for the two elevators that took us down the last stretch into the town center. Deba, nestled in a valley along the Deba River. A parade of children marched by, almost in act of welcome to us.

We immediately sought out a small market and bought two cold sodas to quench our thirst while we set up accomodations for the night.

Then we went to a restaurant while we waited for our hostel to open. Mistakenly, when we thought we were ordering one glass of wine, we were provided with an entire bottle. It was a happy accident, and we enjoyed a leisurely meal, marveling at the affordability: less than thirty dollars for two three-course meals, a bottle of water, and a bottle of wine.

Satisfied, we made our way to our accommodation for the night: a pilgrims-only hostel situated on the upper floors of an old fire station. The building had been repurposed to offer a comfortable resting place for weary travelers like ourselves.

Tomorrow will be warmer, and we will rise early again to head toward Markina.