Day 1, Irún to San Sebastian: 16 miles, 2,288 ft gain
Seeing that first, half-hazard painted arrow in Irún was comforting and somewhat of a thrill. I finally felt the adventurous quest I was embarking on. That romance dampened quickly when I left the city behind, finally accessed a trail, and realized the sun was already high and strong. This was going to be a brutal day. I was also unsure about my knee. It hadn’t changed in the last couple of days playing tourist, walking back and forth from Old Town to Gros several times. I tried to take it slow and focus on form. Not long into hiking I was even more humbled when the intermittent pair or hiker passed me. Most of them were older than me. Cyclists often rolled by throughout the day. I don’t think I heard English today on the trail but a couple of buen caminos.
I was looking for the alpinist split encouraged on The Camino Podcast. I was unsure of the extra challenge but understood the magnificent view awaiting me. Unfortunately – or fortunately – it was not marked “alpinist” and while I saw a curious split, I stayed straight and did not branch right. I had suspected that was it, but others ahead of me opted out of it. I played it safe. After 5 or 10 minutes and being securely inland, I realized that was the split. Do I go back? Not too many walkers passed me this morning. And the people I saw did not show interest in camino camaraderie. Would my knee even last the mileage today, not to mention added elevation and backtracking. I stayed the course and tried to console myself that I was enjoying much more needed shade at this time of day. I could come back and do this day’s hike again in the future. But still, I felt sad that I missed what many said was the best view and hike of the whole Norte. Sigh. This is part of the discernment and acceptance that I am to learn on this very long walk.
On this first day of hiking, I scattered some of Larry and Charlie’s ashes on a picturesque mountain side. The light breeze carried them away as I spoke to them to walk beside me, as they now have the puppy-like energy to hike with enthusiasm. Every butterfly I saw that day and most days after, I envisioned my loves playing together by my side in the wild. I felt grateful and at peace. Larry would have loved most of the days’ hikes.
Many Basque crosses or lauburus can be seen throughout much of the Norte. Stone is traditional building material and family crests, sun motifs, circles, and crosses are carved above doors or in front of homes as a sign of blessing or protection. Not long into my first day, I spotted an overgrown stone home with one and throughout the trip saw the lauburu in various forms and in an array of spaces. In museums, the pre-Roman and Roman periods produced such intricate stone work. An evolution from the solar meanings to Christian context is also apparent. (see Mark Kurlansky, A Basque History of the World).
I was in pretty rough, sweaty, and undernourished shape when entering Pasaias. It was a beautiful quaint town bustling with tourists. I felt a mess, dirty, soaked in sweat and just wanted to be done with hiking. So I carried on. I took pictures, had a gel packet, took my shoes off for 10 minutes, and commenced. Looking back, I would have stayed the night to enjoy it and do the MATER shipbuilding tour.
Pictured above: Street in Pasaias with Basque flag
Basques played a prominent role in European fishing, commerce, and exploration. In their expeditions to catch whale and cod in the cold, northern waters, Basques may have made contact with the Americas well before state-sponsorship in the late 1400s. Their shipbuilding was respected and many Basques made the first of many European expeditions overseas, even completing Magellan’s circumnavigation. See Mark Kurlansky, A Basque History of the World.
The steps out of Pasias were merciless. The view was incredible but you worked for it. They were steep and seemed to go forever. Because my right knee had been tight for weeks, I favored my left. A price I would pay via a torn up left calf and tight hip for much of the rest of the camino. The last three miles dragged on, as I would experience most days. I saw that there were 5K left several times. It seemed I would never make progress, trapped in a purgatory of 3 miles. Once I started hearing the waves crashing, and then the people enjoying themselves on the beaches of Gros, I could have weeped (but I was probably too dehydrated). It was a beautiful and uplifting view to see the busy tourist beach through the trees. I stopped to savor it.
Pictured above: First view descending into Pasaias
Pictured above: Steps and view out of Pasaias
Pictured above: The beach in Gros, San Sebastian
So close, yet so far. The descents on this day were extreme. They felt treacherous, intensified by my knee. A steep, long descent stood between me and salty, cool freedom. Finally reaching the bottom, trying to step sideways down the descents, it felt jarring being in a busy street. The “normal” people walking and driving around living their life, unaware or apathetic to what I had just accomplished, and how famished and sweaty I was, felt foreign. I beelined to the water. In a sports bra and hiking skort, I took off my sneakers and went right in the cold water. It felt amazing and cooled my knee and achy feet.
I hobbled back, tried to de-sand my socks and shoes, to no avail. I stumbled back to my accommodations wet but enjoying gelato as it melted quickly down my hand. I didn’t notice nor care that I had chocolate smeared up my nose and around my mouth. What a feeling of relief.
Today’s feelings were mostly of accomplishment yet feeling frazzled. Awkward and isolated, but hopeful. Going to grab a burger at a brewery in Gros, I felt unsure about my ability to walk tomorrow. That night in Downtown River Hostel was better than my private room in the Old Town. While I shared my room with four others (3 of which were older British men who just finished a mini camino and the first conversation I had with other pilgrims), I had a small fan in my top bunk and was too exhausted to dwell on snoring or late night bed goers. Finally departing from San Sebastián to Zarautz on June 15th, I was still skeptical of my knee but I felt a bit more energetic and also hopeful that I had figured out Correros and my second pack would reach me in my new destination.
When have you doubted yourself, and then surprised yourself?
Peace and happy hiking,
Maria
Maria Labbato, PhD 