One is amusing, two is a trend. Rich in front of the second Spanish town sign we found.
The drill when we arrive in a new town is as follows. Roll up to the hotel, Rich goes inside while I get the bikes ready to go stay wherever they will spend the night- garage, storage room, corner of the lobby, or occasionally our room. I empty the water bottles and stuff them all in one of my front panniers for easy carrying so we can rinse and refill for tomorrow. Rich checks us in, a new rule in Spain makes this longer than we think it should take. Not just scans or xerox of the passports but address, names, and signatures on either actual paper, or a tablet form. We haul all the bags to the room, frequently at the end of a loooong hallway, dump bags, shower, wash out the days’ cycling clothes and drape them all over the room to dry. If there is a heated towel rail we struggle to figure out how to turn it on to sped up the laundry drying. Chill for a bit then head out.
After a quick early (by Spanish standards) dinner we head to the procession route. It’s Good Friday. We stake out a spot right at a turn.Charmed by the children in the procession. Note the thorny crown with small Jesus on it.I guess due to the hill on which the Cathedral sits, these floats are on wheels. The other two processions we saw were not wheeled.As the darkness came on, the drama heightened.Even without understanding the full meaning, these processions are powerfull.I spend some time imagining everyone ironing their robes and fretting over which shoes to wear.We got a glimpse of snowy mountains as we headed to our Cathedral tour the next morning.The old cathedral tried its hardest to fall down and the tour of the restoration is just amazing. Thank you for the tip Hannah! Another city, another pretty chocolate shop. A sculpture by Juan Jose Eguizabal “El Caminante” The Walker.“The Bullfighter” by Casto Solano. A popular spot to sit and snap a photo.Dinner at a gem of a restaurant near our hotel, Restaurante asturiano “El Chigre ALI13”. This is a cachopo. An Asturian dish of pounded veal stuffed with ham and cheese.What and where is Asturia? Another autonomous region of Spain.
We had never really heard of the Asturian region of Spain. This is our favorite part of travel, finding out about all the things we don’t know. As we headed into the Basque countryside on our bikes we would come to see and understand how different the culture is. At one point we said this is foreign on top of foreign!
Leaving Vitoria-Gasteiz, Easter Sunday, on a colorful trail through an industrial area.Quickly it got rural.Rain and a junior pro bike race. Rich started chatting with Mikel, a local cyclist, and he filled us in on the race and rode us down the big hill for coffee.Our first taste of how friendly and welcoming the Basque cyclists would be. Thank you Mikel.
Even though it was Easter Sunday and we assumed most places would be closed the cafes were open until 2 pm, at which point everyone headed home for Easter lunch with family. We were glad to meet Mikel for many reasons, and I was so happy to have him explain to me that what the road cyclists were calling out to us was “Opa!” which loosely translates as “go up” in Basque. I’m not sure I have the spelling correct, but once I learned that did I call it out to almost every cyclist who passed me on the climbs? Yup.
We said goodbye to Mikel and headed towards Bergara. More tunnels.And stunning new infrastructure too. This is a train trestle.Crossing the Deba River going into Bergara.One of the many beautiful buildings in Bergara.
It is Easter Sunday and we were wondering if anything would be open at all. Would we be able to find a drink and dinner? Answer, yes! The bars and cafe were all open and restaurants were opening up for dinner at 8 or 8:30. We joked that Easter Sunday in Spain shares a tradition with Christmas Eve and Day in the UK – go get a drink. Or a few. On our ride to Bergara I passed a group of young men standing outside a bar smoking and drinking. Oh fun, I thought, my favorite- young dudes drinking. I was greeted with Opa! Fuerte! Hola! and then Hello! when they saw my American flag! Where are you from? A quick exchange and they waved me on my way still cheering. Not what I was expecting at all.
We’ve learned to adapt to Basque time. Pinxos and a drink at 6:30, after a 6:00 paseo (stroll) around town.Our 8:30pm reservation – the earliest we could get. We are the only ones in the restaurant for at least 30 minutes.We’re finishing up at 9:30 and folks are just arriving and ordering drinks.An after dinner walk around town. The lighting was so atmospheric and town so peaceful.The rain soaked cobbles made for an extra pretty evening.Ready to go the next am. We leave our hotel and immediately start our big climb of the day, up to the Elosua pass, 681 m/2,234 feet.Ready to climb? Starting at 160 meters for a 510 meter climb with loaded touring bikes.What a dramatic view.What a tough climb.There’s Bergara, 30 minutes into our climb.An hour into the climb and Rich finds a bench to wait for me.Now we’re seeing other cyclists. Not many bike tourists on this pass (none) so we get loads of hellos and opas!Photo opp or screaming legs break?Clouds are coming in and another view of town, to the far left you can see the train trestle from the day before.Rich had enough time at the top waiting for me that he set up a chair! He graciously gave it up for me once I arrived. My time was two hours up the climb. Not setting any Strava records, that’s for sure.The king of the mountain.Starting down on smooth asphalt. A hint of rain coming on.There is a little tiny Rich in blue. He’s off like a rocket sled on rails.A turn onto a smaller less smooth road to connect us to a rail trail.Another stunning church spire. And onto the Via Verde del Urola.Wildflowers against blazing greenery.Lunch stop in Azkoitia. Iglesia Santa María la Real de la Asuncion. The view down the Urola River. I love how folks hang laundry out the windows, but I would worry about wind taking my clothing and flinging it in the river. Good pegging skills I guess.The wisteria on this riverside building. Dramatic. It was so nice to know we’d find water taps.This was a first. A bike wash station. Just as we headed out of town.Our bikes needed it. They were still showing signs of our muddy Pyrenees crossing and gravel riding in the Navarre.So shiny and clean!
Our audience while at the bike cleaning station was a young mom and her tiny son on his scoot bike. He watched, fascinated, and his mom obliged him by spraying off his little bike when we were done. My Spanish is quite basic but enough to start a conversation, and the little US flags again did their jobs and she switched to excellent English for the rest of the chat.
Hanging with the locals in Aizarnazabal.A day bike touring can feel so long. You really get to experience the changes in terrain and whiplash from city to town to countryside. No grocery stores in town but one bar sold some basics, so eggs it is for breakfast.These stunning sheep across from our casa rural in Aizarnazabal!Curly horns and long fleeces.Heading out in the morning after a scrambled egg feast.Barely two minutes from the hostel and I’m already pushing my bike.Headed through Zarautz to San Sebastián. But first, another hill.Pastry break in Zarautz, a famous surf town and on the Camino del Norte.We came through here two years ago, on foot, with our friends Christine and Cecily.We all sat on this bench two years ago.Camino Pilgrims headed to Zarautz and eventually Santiago de Compostela.Down the hill through the vineyards.Through Orio and a picnic lunch break.We leave the Camino (which we are riding reverse direction here) and head up a steep steep little path to avoid the busier road along the river.Steep enough that Rich comes back to push my bike up some stretches.Stunningly beautiful as we ride by farm land.A perfect weather day. Sunny at times, cloudy at others, no rain. Just us, the road, and the occasional farm vehicle.And there it is! San Sebastián. A three night stay awaits. And a lot of yummy food. But that’s for the next post. The lower heart is Zaragoza, the long gap is the train hop to Pamplona, and then our horseshoe route in the mountains.
After decades of living and working in wonderful San Francisco we gave it all up to travel the world. Not owning a car allowed us to save money and live hyper-locally. Now we’re living around the globe. Follow along to see where we are and what cats I manage to pet.
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2 thoughts on “Basque Mountains! Basque food! Basque People!”
wonderful pictures, as always! The ones in the beginning of the procession were a little creepy. What were the hoods all about? Eating and biking,biking and eating, I could do that!
It’s a fun way to travel! Eat, bike, eat, sleep, eat and bike again! You know the drill. Apparently the hoods are for the penitent sinners to hide their identities. Possibly dates back to the Spanish Inquisition. Very creepy.
Less Car, More Life 
wonderful pictures, as always! The ones in the beginning of the procession were a little creepy. What were the hoods all about? Eating and biking,biking and eating, I could do that!
It’s a fun way to travel! Eat, bike, eat, sleep, eat and bike again! You know the drill. Apparently the hoods are for the penitent sinners to hide their identities. Possibly dates back to the Spanish Inquisition. Very creepy.