Leaving San Sebastián, I soon encountered a path along the coast, which is described in one of my references as a medieval road, preserved more or less the way it was originally. I did not take a photo of it, but it was a steep, cobbled way about the width of a modern one-lane road or fire road .

Below is a more modern path along bluffs overlooking the Atlantic, and a hidden surf spot.

The most common albergue for this stage (really almost the only one) is located at a train station. Actually, directly above the train station. I was worried that trains would wake me up throughout the night, but trains passing through this small town turned out to be few and far between. Ominously though, I noticed on arrival, a street crossing next to the station which was periodically clanging , flashing and calling out instructions whenever people crossed the street, and indeed even when people did not. This system did in fact unfailingly perform throughout the night. Fortunately for me however, although the snoring extremist from the night before was there, he was in another room.

Once inside, I felt for the first time on this trip, that indefinable but instantly recognizable Camino vibe, with the energy of groups of people from all over Europe, and different age groups , coming in and setting themselves up in a warren of small, dormitory-style spaces.

The photo below gives an idea of what this section of the Camino del Norte is like, when you are not right along the coast or in one of the seaside towns. Rugged and natural, with few habitations or facilities along the way. Gives rise to an exciting feeling of being “out there” , especially when solitary walking.

I encountered this stretch, below. If you were going to design a path surface which was maximally uncomfortable and difficult for pilgrims to navigate, what size of building material would you use for the surface? Too small, and it would be easy to walk on, like gravel. Too large, and it would be like strolling on flagstones. However, if you make the stones about the size of a human foot , you can maximize the changes of a turned ankle, on this steep descent. Fortunately, a colorful turquoise rope was provided.

I encountered animals right along the path from time to time, including these curious ones.

Walking down into Guernica. This is the city which was terribly bombed in 1937. In the town there are some plaques and memorials to be seen. By this time I was walking along with a couple of people whom I had met. Just on entrance to the town we saw a restaurant serving a ‘Pilgrims menu’. We passed it by and continued into the center of town, blithely assuming that we would of course find something better, not realizing that every other restaurant would be closed because it was a Sunday. Also, the city’s only albergue was closed indefinitely for some reason. Thus everyone had to make do with pensions / small hotels.

Arriving at Bilbao, I was struck by the number of red and white flags covering residential buildings, stores, municipal buildings, even a hospital. Was there some sort of revolution occurring here? It turned out the national soccer championship finals were going on, and Bilbao’s own team was very much in the running . It was explained that it was a particular point of pride that all the players on the team were born in the Basque Country.

I found Bilbao to be remarkably compact for such an energetic and cosmopolitan place.