In my last update I got up to The French and I farewelling Raymond and taking the bus from Pamplona to Irun to walk for some days on the Camino del Norte. That wasn't our original plan.
When you walk the Camino it's a good idea to be conservative in estimating how much time it will take and have a few days up your sleeve, 'au cas ou' - just in case. And some ideas about what you might like to do if you find yourself at the end with time to spare.
The French and I estimated it would take us 35 or 36 days on the Arles Way to where it meets the Camino Frances, if no mishaps. That would give us time to walk back to Pamplona, and then take a bus to Leon in the north west to walk the Camino Salvador, a mountainous and fairly remote route of 100 kms to Oviedo. So over the past few weeks we kept an eye on conditions on the Salvador, only to find that the weather was still quite cold, with a good chance of snow on the high parts of the route - and melting snow (i.e. lots of mud) lower down. Not so appealing.
We started to talk about other options. And, as it turned out - even with our stopover in Toulouse - having taken a train and a couple of buses to avoid 50-60 kms of road, we would end up reaching the end of the Arles Way in 34 days. We would have a few more days - and a few more options - for our 'bonus walk'.
I'd looked into the Camino del Norte a few years ago but it just didn't feel right for me and I decided on the Le Puy route (good decision!) I remember reading that the first few days of the northern way were both difficult and beautiful - alternating between the mountains and the Bay of Biscay. But later, the path moves away from the coast and on some days there is a lot of road walking, compared to other Caminos. The road walking put me off and I never really considered the route again.
But with a week up our sleeve, that first section of the northern way - from Irun to Bilbao - started to look like a great option. We could spend two nights in San Sebastián along The Way as well as a whistle stop in Bilbao before making our way back to Paris. And we could check in with Raymond when we saw him in Pamplona to get his first hand account as he'd been there just one month before. Raymond would be able to give us his impressions and tell us whether he thought it was a good idea. And he did. Perfect. So that's how we came to take the bus from Pamplona to the coastal town of Irun (just two hours), spend a lovely evening in the old town of Hondarribia, and set out early yesterday morning for the gruelling first day - and it was - from Irun to San Sebastián.
We read that not only is the first day among the most difficult of days on the del Norte, but also the most spectacular. Our guide book matter-of-factly recommended taking 'the high route' to make the most of the stunning scenery. All we had to do when we came to the signposted intersection of two paths was to take the route marked 'peregrinos alpinistas' - for alpinist pilgrims. Sure that's us. We may never pass this way again and all that. And so we continued - straight up.
We saw very few pilgrims up there - we discovered later that most take the low road. Perhaps their guide book gave a little more detail than ours - you might recall from an earlier post that the French and I tend to 'wing it', sometimes perhaps a little more than is wise. And Raymond hadn't mentioned anything in particular about this first section of the route - other than that it was difficult but worth the effort. I mentioned this later to Domi - that Raymond hadn't said anything about a certain section of the path - but he reminded me that Raymond is Suisse, he's used to mountain climbing.
The high route was tough, it was windy, it was peaceful, it was stunning and, towards the end, downright scary - at least for me. The scary bit came when we spent what seemed to me like hours (probably 15 minutes) navigating our descent via a rocky and sometimes slippery path, a narrow ledge with a rock wall on our right and to the left, a sheer drop - in high winds. I've never felt a fear of heights and I did ok for most of it but, at one point, I looked down to my left at the wrong time - and I froze.
I felt like I was barely able to breathe and my hands were starting to sweat (not great for holding on to the plastic covered safety rope - when there was one). The wind was gusting and that, coupled with my backpack, was wreaking havoc with my sense of balance. I had to find a way to sit down for a few minutes and breathe. Domi didn't think that was a good idea - breathing yes, sitting down no. And I could understand why - not so easy to get back up with that bloody pack on. But I had to take a moment to regroup, with my butt firmly planted on the ground. Sorry I have no photos of this particular section - didn't seem like a priority at the time.
The French was loving the adventure but when he saw that I'd suddenly gone from exhiliration to high anxiety, he did everything he could to help me. Never more than a few steps ahead, always waiting for me, calmly reassuring me, guiding each step - where to put my feet and hands - generally giving me confidence that, one way or another, all would be well. And of course it was. But, in truth, I don't know how I would have managed up there on my own - by the time you realise what the path has become, it's almost more dangerous to try to turn around. And then there's no option but to walk back the 18 kms you've covered. If I ever see another sign that says 'peregrinos alpinistas', I'll head in the other direction - or maybe not!
And suddenly we were on a wide path leading down to sea level again. Anxiety left me as quickly as it had arrived. We came across a small waterfront cafe, enjoyed a yummy pintxos lunch, took a two minute ferry ride across the small harbour in Pasaia (first time The Way has included a boat ride). Then more climbing and a peaceful last 10 kilometres, mainly through forest, until the Bay of Biscay and then San Sebastián came into view.
What an extraordinary day. Even with the scary bits - I loved it. Merci a toi, Domi.
J x
