Walking without a donkey 8: Egileor, Vitoria-Gasteiz, San Sebastian, Pamplona

15-20.10.16

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From Egileor, Basque Autonomous Community, Spain

Isabel, a Shiatsu practitioner and Free Dance teacher, who I didn’t know but with whom I had been put in contact by the redoubtable Gill, met me off the bus in Salvatiera (Agurain in Basque) in hot, hot sun. She drove me to the nearby village of Egileor where she lives with her daughter and partner in their beautiful, self-built house and garden. Fields, countryside, and hills surround it, and watching the enormous, orange Autumn moon rising faster than I have ever seen, seemed to fit the special atmosphere of the place.

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Throughout the property they have paid attention to detail, from the alabaster in the sitting room through which the sun shines (above); to the carefully placed sculptures; and the circular, garden dance space (below).

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Sculpture by Paco San Miguel pacosanmiguel.com

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We visited Feria, a local town celebrating it’s annual festival. It was full of animals (including donkeys) in hastily erected stalls in the streets; typical regional architecture…

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..groaning tables of produce..

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from neighbouring towns; and families enjoying themselves in costume.

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Vitoria-Gastiez is the first Spanish municipality to be awarded the title of European Green City in 2012. Amongst the shopping streets were these drummers (just like the group I used to play with in Edinburgh)…

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supporting this cause (rebels against poverty).

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And beside La Florida park was this secret garden, photographed at night.

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The Jardin Secreto del Agua was created in 2006, with 29 varieties of plants which all require a low consumption of water. It is huge, situated on a patch of land measuring 3,100 Sq m.

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The view from the bedroom 

Other members of the family and friends were welcoming and I joined a traditional Sunday lunch of bacalao (salt cod). I was looked after so beautifully and so pleased to give Shiatsu to my hosts in return for their care.

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The first day-long walk up on the hills was behind Isabel’s house. What magnificent views! Sticky clay soil was underfoot, and heather, brown at the end of this year’s life, even occasional thistles, were on the slopes. Then 1, 2… 15 huge birds took off one at a time from the forested side of the mountain and abseiled down an air current before swirling around in an upwards pillar, slowly making their way back up. The vultures formed the shape of a handlebar moustache. I loved it all.

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A companion ran along beside me.

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San Sebastian, known as Donotia in Basque, is on the Bay of Biscay, with its sweet sands, stunning views, and English speakers.

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Rio Urumea

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Going up Monte Ugueldo on the narrow gauge railway allows one to see the Playa de la Concha stretched out below. At the same time as some people were swimming, there were women fully dressed in fur coats, smart with lipstick on.

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The zig-zag road back down is surely the place to go if you are a young man, have a car, and want to impress your girl, racing round the helter skelter hill.

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I walked back from Salvatiera station (6km) as a test to see if I could manage a few days of serious walking.

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The sun and beauty of nature by the roadside was enticing.

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A very welcome invitation to stay in Pamplona was received, and after my days in Egileor I went to Merce’s, another experienced Shiatsu practitioner.


Even in the rain this elegant city is worth seeing. There are the streets where the bulls famously run; the Câfé Iruña where Ernest Hemingway and other writers met and inspired each other to sip green tea in (below); and the city walls to take more photos from (above).
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The next morning I gave a Shiatsu, and packed a small bag of unnecessary and heavy belongings to be sent on to Madrid. I was given victuals which would last me the next 3 days (such kindness), and dropped off at the bus station, rucksack on my back, where 20 minutes later I at last joined the Camino Francés.

Walking without a donkey 7: Bilbao

14.10.16

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I took a Bla Bla Car from Oviedo to Bilbao. It’s a fantastic Spanish system where people advertise their upcoming car journeys on a special website, stating how many places they have free, and how much it costs. Then people who want a ride, book in.

To be honest the first half of the journey was a bit miserable. I sat in the back, a second, male passenger chatted to the driver in rapid Spanish, and neither of them addressed a single word to me. But then others joined us,  including a woman who had just attended the birth of her first grandchild. She told me all about it and showed me the photos. She was off to work in a hotel in Bilbao and asked me where I was sleeping. She looked up the place I said I had in mind because she was concerned about me. They were full, so she looked up another, phoned them to confirm my bed, looked up the route, and then came halfway across the city with me on the metro before sending me off in the right direction.

After receiving such kindness from this unknown person, I found my way to the first hostel I had stayed in in Spain, and it was characterless, clean, and warm, with a ‘great’ view (see above)!

The next morning I met a girl with smart new boots. She explained that she bought them to treat herself, after becoming injured on the Camino, and then being unable to continue. Maybe I thought then that I might put off starting. I’m not sure.

I teamed up with 2 backpackers: Athene from East Sussex, and Jonathan, a Chinese man living in Vancouver, and we walked into the city.

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It was extremely hot and sunny, and my rucksack was seriously heavy, but the time passed with interesting conversation – the most English I had spoken for a few weeks. The city along the river Nervión is stunning.

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I was here to visit the Guggenheim Museum and it didn’t disappoint.

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Plus I love the sculptures of Louise Bourgeois, and so it was fantastic to see one of her mother spiders in such a glorious setting.

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I also appreciated Anish Kapoor’s Tall Tree and the Eye.

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The free wifi was useful, I said goodbye to my companion, and walked to the nearby Museo de Bellas Artes, (Museums of Fine Arts), where I had a welcome cold beer amongst the well-dressed arty sorts.

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I didn’t stay long, but couldn’t resist snapping this: it reads Escozia la Brava, (Scotland the Brave!)

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Walking without a donkey 5: Aviles 

9.10.16

A middle sized city, Avilés is between Salinas on the northern coast of Spain, and Oviedo the capital of the Asturias region. It’s a national seaport with a significant industrial area.

I began by wandering around the city, choosing my way as places attracted me, and discovering green spaces between busy shopping streets.

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Ferrera Park

Then I happened across the Avilés estuary, beside residential properties and independent retailers.

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And, on the opposite bank, the rather futuristic arts centre.

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Centro Niemeyer

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Along the Ruta del Acero are a series of sculptures made out of industrial materials found during the modernisation of the area.

There were many men and women walking along this Ruta, many in sports gear. I first noticed just how many Spanish people engage in outdoor sports when I was in Salinas, but then saw this everywhere I went, up and down the country (especially walking and cycling).

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As the sun started to set, the water and crossing structures were shown to an attractive advantage.

Well worth the time, the walks on both sides are very interesting and there are even public toilets if needed!

I wound my way back to the câfé, past a red-brick building with shop and graffiti.

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I was able to make a phone call and write my journal there because like most Spanish bars, you can sit for quite a while, using their wifi and only drinking one beer. Here I was once again given free tapas.

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https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avilés

Walking without a donkey 4 Salinas 

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The very early car journey from Santander to Aviles was spectacular. The sun rose orange behind us as we passed through beautiful ancient villages, huge imposing mountains, and industrial factories spewing much gunk.

My first hour-long walk with all the stuff on my back was from Aviles to Salinas on the same northern coast of Spain, but further West of Santander.  It was a Google maps walk which means it was efficient (I didn’t get lost), but all on tarmac.

Google map link to Salinas

I was carrying what I hoped would be enough, but not too much, for 3 months – information gleaned from the web and the Camino book my friend, colleague and experienced walker, Liz leant me. I am likely to walk through 3 seasons, and this initial amble when my hips, feet, and knees all ached, immediately impressed upon me that I can’t carry that much for up to 8 hours on the Camino de Santiago otherwise, known as the Camino de Peregrinos (pilgrims).

Thus began the process of letting go of what I believed I needed, probably a metaphor for the mental process too. I left things at hostels and friend’s houses and I sent some back home, some forwards to be there later in the year. 

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I walked past a mix of the industrial type of area you get on the outskirts of a town, past prettily coloured and elegantly balconied residencies, and beautifully kept front gardens with both larger versions of the sorts of plants I am familiar, with as well as ones which don’t thrive in the UK. I stopped to buy a croissant for breakfast and the woman in the shop, like all the oh-so-friendly people I have come across, wanted to know where I was from and where I was going.

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Montse, a newly qualified Shiatsu practitioner, met me in the hot sun and took me to her flat where we started the process of getting to know each other, she often in English, me in Spanish. We spoke about being a mother, and about the age children get to when they are part independent and part dependent. I gave my third Shiatsu session and enjoyed it. All of them felt spacious and it was great to be swapping for such amazing hospitality.

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The beach at Salinas is another surfer’s paradise and it was warm enough for me to sun bathe on the wonderful swathe of golden sand and watch. I don’t know anything about surfing, but usually people seem to head straight into the beach, whereas one impressive guy skimmed on top of a single wave parallel to the shore for what seemed like miles.

 

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It may be something to do with the Shiatsu folk I stayed with, but I was served fresh and local produce wherever I went. One of the first new words I learned from Manolo, who I stayed with in Santander, was huerte meaning vegetable garden, and their fresh tomato salad was muy rica (‘delicious’. Thanks Iris for teaching me this in my Spanish classes!). Montse, her mum, and I picked apples and lemons, and gathered nettles and mint for infusions from an orchard in the hills outside the town. We has fresh figs, black carrots, and walnuts; merluza (fish, hake); home-made marmalade, and drank cidra (cider), which this area is especially well-known for (not all in the same meal).

Montse did her Shiatsu training with Gill, my principle Spanish contact, in Aviles, and we moved back and forth several times between there and Salinas when she worked and I engaged in sightseeing or where I taught my first Shiatsu workshop. Aviles is the subject of the next blog!

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Walking without a donkey 2

4-5.10.16

On the anniversary of my dad’s death, I’m travelling to Spain, by ship from Portsmouth to Santander, and I am offering Shiatsu in return for bed and breakfast. I have little in the way of a plan, wanting to be able to respond to offers and opportunities which arise day-to-day, an antidote to my usual schedule. It’s space, spontaneity and a greater peace of mind I am seeking.

I visited Angela and Mike before I left and they live in the New Forest where I came across this donkey – namesake for my blog

25 Hours on a boat means that the day’s walks are short, or at best, circular. After a night of listening to continual coughing, I wasn’t up to much more than my morning Salutations to the Sun and multiple circuits of deck 9. It was hot and windy, but it made more sense to be watching the water go by than be whizzed up in a plane and miss the landscape I am travelling over.

Dog walking on board!

The kids will tell you that I’m always hoping to see a whale or dolphin and never have. It turns out that on this massive ship they announce sightings over the tannoy, because suddenly everyone rushes starboard. We watch the spurts and watery shadows from a distance, but sadly there are any no spectacular leaps.

Not a whale in sight! from the ferry crossing the Bay of Biscay 2016

Be careful if you want to travel like this without a car! On some boats you can only go if you take a cabin, and that adds considerably to the cost; on others you can take a ‘reclining seat’, but it still ends up being nearly double the initial advertised cost.
Half way through the journey I still didn’t have anywhere to stay when I arrived in Santander. In response to other’s kindly concerns about my welfare, I had several times abandoned my aim of responding to offers and opportunities and tried to plan in advance, only for those early ideas to be scuppered by outside forces (eg no foot passengers allowed on certain boats).

Anyway that approach was too much like hard work and exactly the habitual way of being which I was trying to challenge. Nevertheless I was starting to wonder if I would have to spend my first night in a hostel, when I got a message from the wonderful Gill, giving me the number of Rosa in Santander who identifies with my idea. After only a few messages, her husband Manolo has promised to meet me off the boat and, after months of waiting, I can see land ahead.

On the ferry arriving in Santander

Rosa and Tamsin, Santander 2016

Greenpeace. Save the whales