Day 5: Markina to Gernika in a cloud

Our day began with another early start, the pre-dawn light barely touching the horizon as we left Markina-Xemein. We were keen to beat the heat, anticipating the challenging day ahead. The promise of frequent stops for café con leche spurred us on. It was just before 6 AM when we set out, the air still cool and the sky a canvas of soft hues.

Following a charming babbling creek out of town, we found solace in the tranquil sounds of small waterfalls. The creek, flowing, accompanied us as we walked. The path led us to a choice: cross a modern concrete bridge or take the historic stone bridge. We chose the latter, the rough-hewn stones a tangible connection to the pilgrims who had traversed this route before us.

The morning light grew as we continued, and we were serenaded by the unique songs of birds unfamiliar to us, their songs adding to our hike. Soon, we arrived in Bolivar, a quaint town that welcomed us warmly. We settled next to the church, savoring café con leche and a warm chocolate croissant that was simply exquisite. This little respite, felt like a reward for our early start.

Just past Bolivar, we encountered the Monasterio de Zenarruza, that has stood the test of time. The monastery's history dates back to the 14th century, serving as a haven for pilgrims and a center of spiritual reflection. They craft cider at the Monastery, but we were not preaent at a time where we could try some.

Much of our day was spent in the company of fellow pilgrims, Emilie and Joe. Their companionship added a joyful dimension to our journey. We shared stories that made the miles slip away almost unnoticed. The trail, winding through lush green landscapes, and past rustic homes seemed less arduous in such good company.

Our path led us to the Puente Artzubi, an ancient stone bridge arching gracefully over a creek. We seized the opportunity to rest and soak our weary feet in the cool, refreshing water. The relief was immediate and invigorating.

A short while later, we found ourselves at the Iglesia Santo Tomas. The church, with its rustic charm, offered a perfect spot to pause and hydrate. We drank water, electrolytes, and more coffee, replenishing our energy for the miles ahead. As we left, a cat joined us and walked us down the hill, splitting paths a few hundred feet down the road.

As we resumed our hike, the sun climbed higher, but to our good fortune, it was behind the clouds and fog. The day was not as hot as antipated and the kilometers seemed to slip past quickly. Apricots declared, "I'm putting my headphones on to close out the kilometers." The podcasr provided a private escape, a way to push through the fatigue and maintain the pace. Psycho listened to music for an hour.

Our final stretch brought us to a church perched on a hill overlooking Gernika. The view was of our destination, the town spread out below us. Here, we sat down for a meal with Joe and Emilie, joined by two peregrinos from Texas, Sally and John. 

Arriving in Gernika, we felt a sense of accomplishment mixed with relief. Our first stop was our boarding house, where we allowed ourselves a moment of decompression. The day’s exertions melted away as we rested. Later, we ventured out for groceries, navigating the charming streets of Gernika. Dinner was a modest affair, enjoyed on the bed, but it tasted heavenly after the long day’s hike.

Tomorrow we hope to push ourselves to Bilbao.

Day 5 Vlog

Day 4: Sleepless night to Steep Descent

The first light of dawn had not yet breached the horizon as we strapped on our headlamps, the beams cutting through the pre-dawn darkness. Our journey on the Camino Del Norte from Deba to Markina-Xemein was set to be long and challenging, and our restless night had done little to prepare us for the day ahead. The air was cool and still, and the only sounds were our footsteps and morning birdsong.

The path took us up a gentle incline, our headlamps illuminating the trail underfoot. We walked in near silence, the early morning’s serenity creating an atmosphere to compete our disgruntled sleep. After a few kilometers, we reached a hilltop, and the first signs of dawn began to paint the sky with soft hues of pink and orange. 

Continuing along in the now almost awake landscape, we found our way to the first church of the day, atop the hill of our first climb. The church, Calvatio/Kolbaixo was gazing out over the Atlantic Ocean. The view from here was amazing, the ocean stretching endlessly, a perfect spot for coffee out of the backpack.

As we descended from the hill, we found ourselves on a narrow road flanked by a solemn promenade of crosses. Each cross a silent witness to our travels. Apricots watched as a kitten guided us down the road to Ibiri. The road curved and dipped, leading us through quaint rural landscapes, the air fresh with the scent of morning dew and blooming wildflowers. Psycho commented that the aroma brought him back to his childhood.

A little further along, the landscape shifted to a more bucolic and forested area. The trail meandered through dense woods, the canopy above providing a welcome shade as the sun climbed higher in the sky. After some time, we arrived at the small village of Olatz, where another church awaited us. This modest church could have offered a peaceful respite. We, however, knew that the big climb of the day lay before us.

Our next challenge loomed ahead—a steep, paved climb that promised to test our endurance. The path rose sharply, and we began our ascent, the incline becoming steeper with each step. Sweat poured down our faces, and our breaths came in labored gasps as we pushed ourselves upward. The humidity and sweat made it feel like we were swimming in our clothes, and it was still early morning. By the time we reached the high point of the day’s hike, it was only 9 AM, yet the effort had left us thoroughly exhausted. Fortunately, the descent that followed was on a shaded dirt road, offering some relief from the morning sun. The cool shade and the gentle decline allowed us to regain our strength as we continued our journey.

About six miles outside of Markina-Xemein, we stumbled upon a welcome surprise. A local had set up a small stand with cold sodas and coffee, a gesture of hospitality that felt like a lifesaver. Apricots suggested splitting a soda, but Psycho, laughed and insisted, "Drink your own." Resting on the cool stone near the stand, we felt our energy slowly returning.

As we resumed our hike, we found ourselves intersecting paths with other peregrinos. Joe and Emilie, a couple from Sweden, joined us for the final leg of the descent. We shared stories of our experiences on the Camino, the conversation lightening our spirits and making the kilometers seem shorter. The descent took us through a forested landscape dominated by eucalyptus trees, their distinctive scent filling the air. 

The last part of the descent was the most challenging. A light rain began to fall, cooling us but also making the trail  mildly slippery. The path grew steeper, and we had to navigate a section covered in baseball-sized gravel. A rope had been installed along the side for extra support, and we sometimes clung to it as we carefully made our way down.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we arrived in Markina-Xemein. Our final destination was the San Miguel Church before heading to the hostel.

A local kindly guided us to Intxauspe Landetxea, our refuge after a long and arduous day. The hostel’s warm and welcoming atmosphere was a balm to our weary bodies and spirits. We decompressed on the lawn, talking and laughing with Joe and Emilie, reflecting on the day’s journey. The host, understanding the needs of tired pilgrims, graciously gave us bottom bunks, knowing they were preferred.

In the evening, we dined with seven other peregrinos. Emilie and Joe from Sweden, two from Finland, two from Portugal, and a veteran peregrino from Spain. This 74 old man led the table conversation keeping everyone captive as he shared his knowledge of all the trails and helped include everyone.

His last insight was that all peregrinos must have:

1. Suffering

2. Perseverance

3. Humility

Well, we have suffered, but we have also made it through the last four days. Tomorrow is another challenging one. I would say "Bring it"... but then, where's the humility?

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.