Slow Camper : South Across the Border

We have finally made it back to Spain, 6 months after I fell off my bike. Our passage across the border was fairly low key as we weren’t actually sure if we’d crossed. We stopped for a coffee and ordered café von leche and Americano which seemed to work. So, no trumpets or bells, just a sort of silent slink. However, we did see a policeman running after a chubby hooker, which amused me. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to arrest her or was after a quickie, we’ll never know.

Our first destination in the land of tapas was San Sebastian. The city boasts that it is the food capital of the world. We spent some time doing on the ground research into this claim and have concluded it is well founded. As we are still very much in Basque country, the tapas here are known as pintxos (pronounced: pinchose). Every bar in the city is laden with them and the quality and variety is staggering.

Not a great photo but this food was sensational!

You could spend days and days just eating pinxtos and never having the same thing twice. Every one is a taste sensation. The wine by the glass is also great value at around 2 euros for a decent Verdejo. In other words we are in paradise!! A lovely campsite and beautiful weather adds to our sense of bliss. It did take three GPS’s to actually get to the campsite. James and Tom were hopeless, typically male, couldn’t admit they were lost and wouldn’t ask for directions. Katie got us there in the end.

Shiny San Sebastian

Wrapped around a deep bay, the city itself is lovely and the beaches inviting, but slightly too cold for a girl from Perth. The entire city was destroyed in 1831 by mercenary soldiers who raped, pillaged and plundered San Sebastian as payment for services rendered in helping to reclaim this part of Spain. All that remains of the original city are a few bits of churches, but still it retains a charm of its own.

San Sebastian beach

We left San Sebastian and headed along the coast, choosing a narrow, winding and hilly route, which Lawrence navigated with a mix of skill and ignorance. We found a campsite perched on a hill above a fishing port. The views were stunning and we spent a fair amount of time just sitting and looking at it – sometimes with a glass of plonk in our hand.