All clean, tanks filled / emptied as appropriate and all electrical items charged to within an inch of their lives and we headed off down the coast. On paper it was a mere 11km drive to our next destination Lekeitio, it turned out it was a bum clenching hours drive, Gurty took all the hairpins and steep gradients in her stride. Cyclists were going faster than us at some points, but we made it in one piece.
We headed for a park up by the local lighthouse and stayed for 4 nights. One of which was at the local Aire – just to remind ourselves of the parking etiquette of close parking, chocks out and satellite dishes all aligned for french / german Emmerdale or what ever. All the dishes seem to appear and align at the same time.
Lekeitio was surfers heaven, surfers to the left, surfers to the right, stuck in the middle of surfers, but I decided (well Shar told me) it was inappropriate to take pictures of the gorgeous fitties because they were my children’s age. Suffice to say we enjoyed the views and an unintended ‘phwoar’ may have slipped out of my mouth on the odd occasion.
Next stop was Busturia, for 3 nights, in a lovely shady spot close to an estuary and a train station. We thought it was time we headed to a city for some culture, checked out the prices to get from Busturia to Bilbao, only 3.50 euros for an hour and half journey to the centre and the trains ran every half an hour – barry bargain. Guggenheim here we come.
Wandering Wytch 