The Spanish political organization is largely decentralized, the power being passed on to the regional level, in the form of seventeen autonomous communities. In most of the cases, the populations of these regions share distinctive cultures, possessing their own language and history.
If you plan on walking any of The Ways of Saint James (Caminos de Santiago), you have to know that the Northern Caminos pass through four communities: The Basque Country, Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia.
The Basque Country:
The striking Basque flag (red background, green X a d white cross) is proudly displayed in the North-eastern part of Spain, in the provinces of Alava, Biscay and Gipuzkoa, where Euskera, the Basque language is taught in schools, and most road signs are bilingual.
The Basques that live in the northern Spain, on the Atlantic coast, were traditionally great seafarers. The opening stages of the Camino del Norte pass through towns and villages closely linked with the Age of Discovery (beginning with the 15th century).
The most famous Basque seafarer is said to be Juan Sebastian Elcano, who took over command of Magellan’s fleet and completed the first circumnavigation of the Earth (1519-1522).
In the modern era, the Basque Country emerged as an industrial power (for example, Bilbao), particularly within Spain itself, where it is responsible for nearly half the country’s industrial output. Nonetheless, the countryside remains very traditional, with extensive family farms.
The cities I visited while walking through The Basque Country:
Irun
Pasajes de San Juan
San Sebastian
Orio & Zarautz
Getaria
Elloriaga
Deba
Ermita del Calvarion
Markina- Xemein
Ziortza-Bolibar
Monasterio de Zenarrauza
Olabe
Gernika-Lumo
Pozueta
Bilbao
Portugalete & Pobena.
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At the beginning of a hot month of August, after taking a night flight to Bilbao, then few more long rides by buses, I found myself at the starting point of my Camino del Norte pilgrimage, in the city of Irun, The Basque Country.
I thought it was a great idea to come in August, as the summer heat will keep away many of the pilgrims, so it will not be that crowded. But when I arrived at the accommodation -Albergue de Peregrinos Jakobi in Irun, I realised that it wasn’t the smartest idea I had: few hours before the opening time, I got to be the 37th pilgrim waiting in line. Apparently, August being the holiday month for most of the Europeans, no matter the heat, they all want to travel.
Waiting in line at the donativo Albergue, in Irun:
Irun is a small modern town with not so much to see. As a border town meeting S-W France, it has been a frequent site of diplomatic wrangling, where Franco and Hitler met across the river, at Hendaye rail station. However, Spain remained neutral throughout World War II and during the Spanish Civil War, Irun was bombed by the Germans.
I shared the room with other 59 pilgrims, sleeping for the first time in my life on paper sheets, and being a little nervous and stressed thinking of what was about to start. Therefore, on my first early morning on the Camino, I started the walk yawning and being completely tired, but luckily it all soon became very beautiful, the woods and mountain paths being greener than I imagined or expected considering the hottest month of summer.
I enjoyed the most a 12th century little port town between the mountains, called Pasajes de San Juan, which hosted the Spanish naval fleet (the Escuadra Cantabrica) for 400 years, also being famous for building part of the Spanish Armada, and for the writer Victor Hugo who lived there for a while.
Pasajes de San Juan:
Crossing the water with a small 8 passengers’ boat, then climbing steps, surrounding a mountain for 3 km, I was getting closer and closer to my intended first stop for the day, in the city of San Sebastian.
30 km since my start, when arriving to San Sebastian, I couldn’t find any accommodation. I searched all the pensions, hostels, 2-5 stars hotels, and every place was fully booked due to high season and the popularity of the city. Why didn’t I think of that in advance?
There were probably 40 Celsius degrees outside, my feet were sore, I was hungry, couldn’t enjoy anything anymore, and I felt like crying.
San Sebastian is one of the most famous tourist destinations in Spain, renowned for its Basque cuisine and beautiful beaches as it lies on the coast of Bay of Biscay. I find it crowded, too touristic and expensive, but Basilica of Saint Mary of the Chorus and Victoria Eugenia Theatre worth a visit.
I couldn’t give up as I needed a roof over my head that night, so I continued my walk until I reached Barrio Igeldo. With the help of a local lady, I was lucky to finally find a hotel, but the room cost me my budget for a total 6 days of expenses as a pilgrim. I think I could have paid even more, as I was that happy to find a place to rest!
After walking for 10 hours, aprox 35 km, being sunburned and developing three blisters at my feet, at the end of my first Camino del Norte day, I was watching the sunset from the top of Monte Igeldo, having the best view over San Sebastian.
View over San Sebastian from Monte Igeldo:
I then started to plan all my accommodations, calling and booking in advance the albergues where I had the intention of stopping at (you cannot book the donative hostels, but some private houses for pilgrims accept reservations by phone).
It was also very clear to me that I had to avoid ending my walking days at the main cities/attractions where most of the travelers stopped. I couldn’t see myself or thought as acceptable for a pilgrim to rush everyday, not enjoying the life on the Camino, just because of the stress of whether he/she will find a bed or not.
The second day, I walked through and shortly visited two port towns called Orio and Zarautz.
Orio is known for long being an important pilgrimage stop, as King Ferdinand 2nd of Aragon and Queen Isabella 1st of Castile declared in 1484 that pilgrims could not be charged for ferrying across the Oria river. Today, the town is recognized as a place for surfing.
Most of the pilgrims had the intention to stop in Zarautz, the next city, which is an important shipping town that historically was home to whalers and great explorers. Magellan’s ship “La Vitoria” was built there (1518). Also, it is said the town became famous after the Belgian royal family’s decision to come to Zarautz in the 20th century for the holidays, therefore the population triples during the summer months. Exactly when I was there, go figure!
So here I was choosing to walk even more, leaving behind this, even though beautiful, very touristic city (the next day I found out that other pilgrims followed me, as they couldn’t find any accommodation in Zarautz either).
Country roads leading to Orio:
Saying good-bye to Zarautz:
Later on that day, when I finally stopped at Getaria, I realised I walked another approximately 30 km, but my feet weren’t happy about it, as it was too much and my blisters started to be very painful. So the second evening on Camino del Norte got me to the conclusion I shouldn’t rush, that I needed to walk less than I originally planned.
After all, the pilgrimage shouldn’t be misunderstood, as it isn’t a marathon. Too many pilgrims think and associate it only with the Compostela, the certificate they get at the end of the route, but I believe the Camino is more about the experience itself, and every moment and everything encountered must be lived and enjoyed at its best: the landscapes, the scents, the distant ocean breeze, the forests, the country roads, the local food and wines, the people, the laughter, the conversation. Life is not about the destination, but for living the moment.
Getaria is another small, fishing town rich of history of whaling and exploring. It is the birth place of Juan Sebastian Elcano, the explorer that took over the Magellan’s fleet after his death, his baptism being held at the 13th century church Iglesia de San Salvador, where his tomb is also found.
I there spent a nice evening in the company of two Irish pilgrims, having fresh fish for dinner at a small restaurant in the port. When we got up from the table, we noticed people installing stages and big music speakers in the middle of the city, right next to our hostel, but we couldn’t really imagine what was about to start…
That night, the noisiest night of my life, my friends and I sadly found out that Getaria had its annual fiesta. There was loud music, dancing and drinking in the streets until the next day. When I left the hostel at 6 in the morning, the party was still going.
Rushing to leave behind Getaria, I had no idea at that hour would be completely dark outside, so I found myself on a narrow country road between the woods, goose pumps scared, the only sound I heard being a distant creepy rooster’s “cock-a-doodle-doo”. I could only thought of ghosts and dead people coming out of the ground, until I had the brilliant idea to play loudly 2Pac’s music on my Spotify. 2Pac’s momma, thugs and homies saved me that morning.
The hours that followed, on the colorful morning’s light, I very much enjoyed the scenery around me while proceeding along quiet country roads.
The early morning country roads towards Deba:
Just after Elloriaga, a small village founded in the 10th century, I chose a more strenuous approach of the way in order for me to discover some of Camino Norte’s most dramatic coastal views. I ended up walking through the magnificent Basque Coast Geopark, famous for its geological Flysch deposits, which preserve 60 million years of history.
It wasn’t too long until I arrived to Deba, the city where, at that stage of the Camino del Norte, most of the travelers stopped.
Deba was founded at the beginning of 14th century and what is great about this fishing and trade town is that it maintains most of its original layout. Also, its Iglesia de Santa Maria is a must see Gothic church. Sadly, I didn’t visit it as the high amount of tourists got in my way.
6 kilometres later and another tough mountain crossed, I finished another beautiful Camino del Norte day at a peaceful old farm, Izarbide Aterpetxea, in Ermita del Calvario.
Great hospitality after Deba: Albergue Izarbide Aterpetxea :
The night spent at Ermita del Calvario made me realize that, even though my intention was to go on a solitary pilgrimage, at that moment, I have already made good friends: a middle-aged, full of life Irish couple that travelled the world together, who encouraged me to fearlessly pursue my dreams, and an yoga instructor from Germany who’s laughter brightened every place she went.
Next morning, as I was the last person to leave the albergue and it was pouring rain, I decided I will take it easier and walk only 18km, finishing up at another 14th century town called Markina- Xemein.
I had to say good bye to the coast for a few days, as the Camino headed for the interior of the Biscay Province (in Spanish –Vizcaya, capital city in Bilbao, an important province due to industrialization), climbing over a small cluster of houses, the Collado de Arno.
With extensive dirt roads and footpaths passing through densely forested hills, this stage’s scenery and climate differed dramatically from those of the preceding days. The air felt different, too; closing my eyes, I almost felt I was in the Romanians mountains of Bucegi.
The forests of Vizcaya leading to Markina:
Known for its Paleolithic remains and the 11th century church Ermita de San Miguel de Arretxinaga built around three Megalithic stones, Markina-Xemein on a Saturday afternoon, seemed like a ghost-town. A ghost-town which I fell in love with.
One of my best memories from this year’s Camino was sitting at a small table in Markina’s centre square, admiring the beauty of this old, quiet village which still maintains its medieval looks and charm. A Romanian pilgrim had a café con leche in a historical place where centuries ago, battles between people of Guipuzcoa and Biscay provinces, Napoleon, the Carlist Wars, the Spanish Civil War, all caused great damage.
The same day, I met a lovely local Spanish lady that didn’t speak English (and I don’t Spanish either), the owner of a beauty salon, who was kind enough to come back from her home to give me the book I left in her shop. Using our hands more than our foreign languages skills, we managed to communicate and she even kissed my cheeks whishing me a Buen Camino. And no, I didn’t do my hair at her salon, I only stopped there for road indications.
Later on, as the town had only few albergues and hostels, it wasn’t the first time when I was given to see pilgrims sleeping on the grass or on the streets’ benches. I think it is not acceptable, that on a well-known and worldwide advertised pilgrimage, not to be taken into consideration the real need of accommodation, or just of a simple shelter for the pilgrims.
Luckily, I had a bed which a booked in advance. Luck or misfortune, because the next morning, due to a young Italian group of tourists that kept me awake for a long time, I said to myself maybe it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea to sleep outdoors. I guess they came on the pilgrimage to party.
For pilgrims to consider:
Continuing my Camino, the next morning I decided again to walk less and to enjoy more the relaxing and beautiful life in the picturesque Basque Country.
The route from Markina meandered alongside a small creek before turning towards vast apple trees orchards, the village Ziortza-Bolibar, and a medieval monastery.
There were more than 30 years since the last time I had fresh apples right from the trees and I hope nobody minded that I took some in my backpack, as well. Just like a child, that day I walked and smiled while eating a lot of green apples which I cleaned on my t-shirt.
The charming Zioritza-Bolibar village was funded in the 11th century and it is the ancestral homeland of Simon Bolivar (Venezuelan leader who led the secession of what are currently the states of Venezuela, Bolivia, Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Panama, from the Spanish Empire).
When I arrived to the medieval monastery Monasterio de Zenarrauza, I saw again pilgrims sleeping on its covered porch, a sign that there weren’t enough beds for travelers in this area either.
The porch of Monasterio de Zenarrauza, early in the morning:
The Monastery is a serene place for rest and reflection, with a large porch, impressive altar and evocative cloister. The legend says that an eagle brought a skull here from the Gerrikaitz ossuary at its construction, first documented in 1082, although the 14th century Gothic church came later.
I recommend the beer drinkers and not only, to support the monastery by paying a visit to the monks’ brewery. It would not be just a help for the community, as the beer is good, too.
The cloister of Zenarrauza:
I chose to sleep in the small village of Olabe, 10 km before everybody planned to stop that night. The Albergue Andiketxe was exactly what I needed: peaceful and quiet with a magnificent view over the green hills, and the owner cooked us the best dinner I had on the entire Camino del Norte.
View over the hills of Olabe:
In Olabe I met people from Germany, their Camino ending the next day, as they were more interested in a cheap short vacation than a pilgrimage. I then thought that tourists like them represent another good reason for not being enough beds left for the real pilgrims, who have nothing left to do but to sleep outdoors, on the ground.
I enjoyed their company, they were newly graduates from universities, seemed educated and wise, and that evening we shared good talks and laughs for few hours, until one of them told me: “You know Cristina, in the city I live, there are a lot of Romanians… All of them beg on the streets. You are different.”.
As I am a proud Romanian, luckily I managed to keep my calm while explaining them the difference between Rroma population and the Romanians, that other nationalities might beg or steal too, and that, every once in a while, they should switch off their TV and try thinking on their own, more outside of the box. I guess, after all, they weren’t educated enough.
Later on, at night, there was an Italian noisy group again, but they didn’t bother the pilgrims for too long, as one of the German men shouted so he very well put everybody to sleep.
The next morning, being the first pilgrim to leave the albergue, not far from Olabe, I was happy to find and visit the 13th century Church of St Apostle Thomas. One of my nephews, Toma, is named after the Saint, so I was glad to say a prayer while taking pictures of the beautiful church, and sending them to my family.
13th Century Iglesia Santo Tomas Apostol:
During that day, I enjoyed charming country side roads and forests, at some point crossing over the river Golako on a mediaeval bridge.
The mediaeval bridge of Artzubi, built in the 16th century, has not only served to connect the mediaeval towns of Gernika and Gerrikaitz over the constantly-flowing river Golako, but also its road has witnessed the stories of the many pilgrims who have passed over it on The Way of St. James.
It is a bridge that has managed to survive by adapting to the many events that have happened over the centuries, which today appears to have merged into the green woods that surround it.
16th Century Artzubi Bridge:
Sunny forests leading to Gernika:
Gernika-Lumo is a modern and more crowded town than I thought would be, due to its history and the artist Picasso who made it famous: after the 1937 bombing when the city was destroyed and thousands of people killed, the painter made one of his works, which shares the town’s name.
The city also holds the remains of an old famous oak tree, “Tree of Gernika” where, for centuries, by ancient traditions, the Basques and other people in Medieval Europe held assemblies under it, to discuss matters affecting the community.
After saying good-bye to the German tourists I met the night before, my mind could only think of the Iberian ham. One of my Camino’s guilty pleasures was to have, every morning, a “bocadillo jamon, y café con letche” (Iberian ham sandwich and coffee with milk).
My favorite: Bocadillo Jamon
That being said, I got into the first butcher shop I could find, where I had the surprise to notice Romanian products. I suddenly asked the seller, in Romanian, if he comes from Romania and he replied smiling that he was. After a nice short chat, he told me that if I need good bread, I should go to a Romanian baker, on the next street, and so I went. Being there, after another pleasant talk in my language, the baker told me that her sister has a vegetables shop, so I went there too.
Therefore, together with the three hard workers and brave Romanians I met that day, we shared a pleasant afternoon while they told me their impressive life story as emigrants. I was glad to find out that they were all happily settled with their families, in Gernika.
A Romanian vegetables shop in Gernika:
Leaving the noisy city behind, along a mountain path and some wooden tracks, 7 km further from Gernika, I chose to end the day at a little cattle farm in Pozueta village.
Farm in Pozueta:
Another great choice as the albergue looked like a wonderful resting place for the pilgrims, being taken out of a fairy-tale: a house between green hills and farms, with hammocks and benches under shading trees, the owner’s birds and animals running free among us.
Chickens all over the pilgrims:
I was welcomed to come in, and the first question I got asked was if they can add the dinner and breakfast to the bill, as well. I sometimes honestly didn’t want the dinner, but I still bought it as, sharing meals is advertised as a “to do thing” on the Camino.
This was another difference I noticed between Camino nowadays and how it used to be six years ago: the albergues became more of a business, the hosts trying to get as much money as possible out of pilgrim’s pockets (dinners, extra wine, souvenirs, home-made gifts etc).
Finding out where I came from, the surprised hospitalero/ the man running the house, told me it was a rare thing for a pilgrim to come from Romania, as he “heard” that most of the Romanians are thieves. I thought to myself what a “nice” greeting I received… I had to figure out how to explain again, this time, to this Spanish ignorant, how Romania really is.
Anyhow, I spent a lovely evening in Pozueta where I met interesting people from all over the world, whom I shared a peregrino menu with, and some good laughs.
The next morning, feeling well rested, I started the walk early so it was still dark when I left. Though, before leaving, the darkness didn’t stop me to write the following message in the hostel’s book: “Thank you for a good stay. Romanians aren’t gypsies. Cristina”.
As all the pilgrims have different walking rhythms, even though I enjoyed the company of some I had good conversation with, I didn’t meet any of them in the following days. Just like in life, on the Camino you meet a lot of people you need to leave behind, and always go forward.
Nothing too impressive about the day I walked to Bilbao. There was still no sign of the coast which I loved and long waited for, and the pavement roads announced that I was getting closer and closer to the big city I wasn’t looking forward to.
That’s when I decided to shorten my Camino, to book a returning flight from Santander, and to walk for another week only. I was getting tired of being by myself (even though you are never alone on the Camino), and missing my fiancée made me think that maybe one day I’ll come back and continue the walk together with him. Besides, many pilgrims split their Camino walk into different periods of time, sometimes in years distance, depending on their holiday plans.
Bilbao is a city that many of my acquaintances are very happy about. It was founded in 1300, on the Nervion River, and despite Napoleon’s forces and the Carlist Wars, 19th century Bilbao was changed mostly by the Industrial Revolution. Due to its extensive natural resources, including iron mines, forests, and the potential for abundant water power, Bilbao enjoyed a boom in shipbuilding and steel mills.
Today, Bilbao is a centre of Spanish industry, insurance, and banking, which has led to a significant influx of non-Basques and immigrants, some of my friends being included.
The gothic Basilica de Begona, the Catedral de Santiago and the Guggenheim Museum are the main attractions which I haven’t visited much as, again, I was running away from the mad crowds of selfies pictures-taking tourists.
That day, I was so proud of myself I was able to walk more, 30 km, finishing up at the far end of Bilbao, on a hill, at the donative Albergue De Peregrinos Aterpetxea. It was a hard walk as the weather was very hot, and the pavements, the cars, the dust due to construction works in the city, didn’t help either.
For me it was perfect to stop further from the city’s centre, and the view at the sunset, then at the sunrise, was just magnificent. I could have stayed still and watch it for hours, and only that.
I there met a nice Irish gentleman, with stoic believes and an interesting life story, who, due to our good conversation, made Bilbao a good memory to me. I then realized more, no matter the landscapes, the coast or the mountains, the old villages or big cities and their history, that the memories you’ll hold forever, good or less good, are always about the people.
Sunrise in Bilbao:
There was something about Camino’s mornings, so promising, as I felt hopeful and awake like never before. Just like a child, I sang and smiled, I felt like dancing enjoying the early ray lights of the day, while my mind and thoughts were clearer, my body felt stronger. It is said that miracles happen on the Camino, and maybe, me feeling that good was some kind of miracle, too.
As I was in a good mood, I planned to walk as much and as far from the city as possible, looking forward to the coast scenery again. So I passed Portugalete, which is the suburb of Bilbao firstly documented in 1249, where soon I crossed the old bridge The Puente Colgante.
Then, the path forward sent me directly to the green hills, which later made way to the beautiful beach Playa de la Arena and the sea-side resort of Pobena.
Pobena is now on my list for a future one week relaxation vacation at the beach, with my family. It is a beautiful, peaceful sea-side small resort, mostly visited by locals, with smooth sand and wide beach, surrounded by green mountains.
Beyond Playa de la Arena:
Next, I was given to see and walk for 6 kilometres on the most beautiful coastal path I have ever been to. Those few km after Pobena were the height of my Camino happiness.
At one moment, on the narrow hill path, I encountered cows (which I am so afraid of) but I soon got rescued by a local woman who asked me to hold tight her back while walking with her. After realizing I survived and thanked her, I asked if she was scared; she suddenly replied: “Of course, I was dead-scared! It isn’t common for the animals to come on the pilgrim’s path, and we were almost attacked by the bull, as you are wearing RED clothes!”.
Luckily, not attacked by any bull, I then stopped for a while to catch my breath, eat a bocadillo and enjoy the view. I only had few kilometers left until my stop for the day, the village Onton.
Coastal hillside leading to Onton:
It was just before Onton, after a stunning walk with magnificent views over the Atlantic Ocean, when I realized I had already been walking for more than 160 kilometers since the start of my journey. I then stepped into the region of Cantabria.
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My next article, Spain Hiking Journal: II. Cantabria is coming soon!
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