Author: Wynette Richards

Some random photos

Waiting for the train from Deba to Bilbao
Few pilgrims have commented on my backpack patches. But a day or two ago I got two comments almost simultaneously. One was from the husband of a woman who was wearing a t-shirt with a Zia symbol in front. They were from California but her father had lived in Dixon, New Mexico. Another person commented on the arrow and said “well. I’ll just follow your yellow arrow all the way to Santiago.”
There was no place to stop for breakfast or coffee on the walk from Zumaia to Deba. But, we found a good bench to have our breakfast of boiled eggs, apples, cheese.
This was a street mural in Zumaia. Zumaia is several days walk from Guernica but very close by car. I’m sure the people of this town and all this area have a heavy heart for that time.
This it Saturday walking into Zumaia. We saw a lot of locals walking as well as pilgrims. They were loving the beautiful sunny weather.

Our place high in Zumaia

We had trouble finding a place to stay here in Zumaia today. We didn’t realize when we were trying to make the reservation that there is a big festival in the town this weekend. But we did find a place to stay in kind of a rooming house way up at the top of the town. Not only is it clean and inexpensive, but we got a great workout walking back and forth, and, it turns out that just a few steps from the front door there are some beautiful views. Photos taken there this afternoon below. Also the young couple who run this place let us use their kitchen to boil some eggs for our trail breakfast tomorrow. They chatted with us while the eggs boiled and were friendly. The young man was so cute. He wanted to demonstrate the Basque language for us so asked his wife to have a short conversation between them. (She was a little more reserved and a little embarrassed, but she did it.) Basque is their first language and then Spanish and then English.

Looking west from the view point just outside our house
Looking east

In the middle of the Spanish fun

Outside our window, people outside the bar downstairs.

We chose a hotel tonight right smack in the middle of the tiny town of Orio. (Yes, pronounced like the cookie, more or less.) Our hotel has a bar downstairs and there are dozens of people in the street in front talking and laughing. There’s another bar next door as well and more people socializing in front of it. It’s fairly cool out. But the Basque people don’t seem to mind the cold and do a lot of their socializing outdoors. I’m always struck by the wondrous community we find in nearly any Spanish town.

The bar next door (outside our side window)

It’s pinxo hour (tapas). They won’t actually have dinner till around 10:00. Here are examples of tapas — what we had for our late lunch. (We got in too late to have a proper comida.)