We had to get out of Valencia. Temperatures were north of 95° and humidity was high in July and we had been told it would be worse in August. Border closures thanks to Covid-19 would keep us in Spain, so the mountains and near the Atlantic were the clear choices. Cindy did her magic and lined up a tour of the north coast by car.

First stop was Beria, right on the north coast at the foothills of the Pyrenees by the French border. We left Valencia August 1 and drove straight through, about 500 KM, to Beria. Our rented steed, a Toyota Corolla Hybrid, had plenty of space and managed 44 MPG (5.3L / 100KM) throughout the trip. After our experience with an early ’00s Sienna, I never thought I’d want another Toyota but this was a good, comfortable ride. The drive was hot for most of the way; our lunch in Zaragoza was hot, dry and windy. I thought for a moment we might have passed through a portal and wound up in Ellensburg.

We arrived in Beria in the early evening. It had begun to drizzle so our last few KM up the mountainside to our hotel, the Elizalde in Ibardin, were in thick mist. We had no idea what was around us. We gulped down a drink and crashed for the night.

We woke to more drizzle after finally being able to sleep without sweating through our sheets and grabbed breakfast, then took a hike to the local lake, Xoldokogaina…did I mention we were in Basque Country, where they speak their own language unlike either French or Spanish?… and back to the hotel.

The view we woke up to. Holy crap, where are we? This is looking north into France. Expect to see more pictures of this as the week goes on because I was obsessed with this view.

The hike to the lake and the lake itself. Beautiful green hills covered in brush, trees and ferns. What you can’t really see is how steep some of the trails were.

We then made the drive to San Sebastian. Literally as soon as we left Iberdin, we crossed the border into France. We drove east a bit, then north to the coast, and then turned west again and boom, we were back in Spain. Border controls? Not here, amigo.

San Sebastian is a lovely town on the Urumea river, with a thriving old town facing the well protected harbor. We didn’t spend enough time here but we enjoyed the afternoon.

Rocky coast, sailboats…what’s not to love?

The grand walkway between the park and old town, where everyone came out to stroll for the early evening.

It’s hard to tell from this, but they use marble blocks for their breakwater. Now THAT’s classy.

We came home to a spectacular view from our room.

Next day was a short hike along the border, spotting border markers, sheep and horses with cowbells. The horses must have been very confused.

Looking back across the valley at Ibardin. Note the number of cars center left — Ibardin is like Bellingham, where instead of Canadians coming to shop, you get French. Many of the stores were outlets that sold in bulk.

Horsies! And more of that coastline.

You can probably see 50 miles up the coast here, past Bayonne and Biarritz.

Border marker

The area around where we were staying is important in history; as you can see, it overlooks a good chunk of France at the easiest point to get an army through. The English, Napoleon, and border crashers throughout history left their marks here.

The next two days were fairly long hikes through the hills, one to Bera where we found a very nice spot open to have lunch and the other to Biriatou, where there were no cafes open at all. We had to share our meager trail food as we had expected to have lunch in town, and pester a lovely french woman to fill our water bottles for the uphill hike back to our hotel. Two long days of walking and at the end we were tired. Our pathfinding skills were tested, because while the trails are marked, there are many variants and not all of the forks are clear. We did not emerge covered in glory.

The local church and graveyard

A bridge from Roman times

The bridge from upriver

That view.

Sunset

My gawd, that view.

It’s rugged country, even this close to the coast.

Looking down into Irun

Horsies! on a cliff

Evidently there was a Trump cabinet meeting here that day. Get it? Because it’s a bunch of horses’ asses!

The border between France and Spain.

We took a day off and drove east and then north through the foothills of the Pyrenees. It was beautiful and I wished I had a motorcycle to ride on those amazing roads. The pass over the Pyrenees into France was just like every alpine stage of the Tour de France.

Our trusty steed and the Navigator.

The countryside goes on forever.

I dunno, some town we stopped in.

We wound up in Bayonne, where the lack of social distancing on the beach and streets freaked me out. It’s a lovely city and I’m sure very glamorous.

View of the beach from about as close as I wanted to get to it.

Have I mentioned the view yet? This was a bit before sunrise.

Next day was a road trip to Bilbao, a lovely city where we had a spectacular meal for a very good price. Too much time driving, not enough hanging out. Can’t complain though, it was very pretty.

On the way to Bilbao, we stopped in San Sebastian for a view of the city from another angle.

And that was section 1 of our north coast trip. At the rate I’m writing, I should finish up the recap before Christmas. Probably.