Approximate distance. 29km

I had the best night’s sleep I have had in a mountain hut or albergue. Breakfast was bread, coffee, biscuits and cake. There was some trading of biscuits between a Frenchman sitting opposite me and an Australian who swapped his biscuits for yoghout.

I met the Australians, Peter and Gerry, outside the hostel. Gerry said the yoghout was prune flavoured and inedible. We walked down the hill from the albergue to rejoin the camino. We followed a road with a slight uphill gradient which afforded us good views of the other two famous buildings in Comillas.

The Seminario Pontificio sits on top of a hill. It was opened in the late 19th century to train priests but the institution moved to Madrid in the 1960s.

Gaudi also had an input into the design of the Sobrellano palace, commissioned by the same Marquis who built the Capricho and who is buried in the crypt here. This is said to be another exquisite building to visit but I did not have the time.

As we left Comillas we saw a group of women practicing yoga,with the Picos in the background.

At the top of the hill there were good views back (east) along the coast.

We dropped down into San Vincente de la Barquera for fresh orange juice and tortilla on the beach.

Peter and Gerry went on ahead after brunch. The Camino left the coast, winding uphill through villages. I met some English students who were on their way into the Picos to walk and camp and then the Australian I met in Guermes, Nick, walked past

I stopped in Sergio for lunch. The menu de dia looked tasty but a tuna salad was enough for me. Other pilgrims were in the bar and Bibi, from the Netherlands, stopped for lunch and walked with me for the rest of the afternoon.

I think this is one of the main differences between the Camino and a normal mountain walk. There is tremendous interaction between the Peregrinos. At the same time, if you want to walk alone you can refuse company; no one will take offence.

The other thing I have noticed a couple of times is that when the Camino runs along a road with a little or no verge there are warning signs for the drivers

The red cross on the sign indicates another pilgrimage route, through the mountains to the monastery of Saint Toribio and, eventually, the Camino Frances.

We descended to the Ria de Tina Menor.

It was now a short walk along quiet roads and tracks to the town of Unquera. The Camino went down the Main Street to the bridge across the Rio Deva. Here we said goodbye to Cantabria and entered the region of Asturias.

There was then a long walk uphill, initially on a flower lined concrete path and later a track. We passed a “go ape” sort of ropeway, I was not tempted. At the entrance of Colombres, Babi stopped at her Albergue and I continued through the small town.

I passed the magnificent Quinta Guadalupe

This is one of many buildings in Asturias built by “Los Indanos.” These were Spaniards who made their fortunes in the New World before returning to Spain.

Finally, I reached my Albergue Run by Matej and his girlfriend. It was like a home from home. It is a small Albergue, only about 10 beds in two rooms. Matej prepared a really nice vegan roast and salad for us, they sat down with us to dinner. Apart from me and the Australians there was Rosa (from Bristol), Uwe and Stephan from Germany and two Spaniards whose names I have forgotten. A great evening.

Approximate distance 22km

The whole route through Cantabria is almost all on tarmac but it was a beautiful walk today. I walked back into the middle of the village to pick up the Camino which ran uphill into rolling countryside. Angela phoned me so I took off my rucksack and sat down on a bank by a field. I became aware of something trying to take one of my walking poles. It was a donkey.

I hurriedly moved my poles out of chewing range. I apologised to them because I wanted to keep my apple for myself.

Not far further on from the donkey field was a beautiful wooden carving of a pilgrim.

The road now wound its way between hills. Snow could be seen on the tops of the Picos mountains.

I walked through the villages of Arroyo and Orena and then climbed the hill to the isolated church of San Pedro de Arena.

I was unable to discover why there was such a large church in such an isolated position. I can see that nowadays people could drive, there was a large car park with arrows directing traffic, however, in years gone by the congregation would have to walk or ride to church. Maybe the local population was larger be for the Industrial Revolution and the movement of people to cities. From the top of the hill I could see the sea.

I continued along quiet roads through the small town of San Martin de Cigüenza and arrived in Cóbreces. As I approached the town I could see the striking church of San Pedro Advincula.

The other dominant building in the town was the Cistercian Abbey of Viaceli.

There is an albergue in the Abbey and if you stay there you are invited to vespers.

The Camino splits for a short distance here and I chose to go via a small beach. At the end of the beach I had to cross a river and then climb steeply up a path that led to the hamlet of Trasierra.

The way continued predominantly by footpaths or tracks. There were several “peace benches.”

Eventually I came to the village of La Iglesia. The small church is dedicated to St Roque, who is one of the patron saints of pilgrims. St Roque was on a pilgrimage to Rome when an outbreak of plague occurred. He dedicated himself to caring for the victims of the plague. He eventually caught the disease himself and it is said that he was expelled from the city. He survived because a dog brought him bread and licked his wounds to cure him. So he is pictured above the door with a dog at his side.

The Way took a brief detour through the old Main Street of Pando.

I now had a short walk into Comillas. I dropped my rucksack off at the albergue. This was a nice albergue. Each bed had a curtain to give you some privacy while you slept, its own electric point and a light. I was in a top bunk and it had a comfortable mattress and a solid floor rather than springs which creak every time you turn over in bed.

I went to see the house that Gaudi designed for a Barcelona noble who wanted to holiday in Comillas. It was not quite as wacky as his Barcelona projects but it was still nice.

Approximate distance 29km

Today’s walk was totally on tarmac. I think this has irritated my left IT band which now keeps going into spasm. I saw very few pilgrims today. It was a dry day and the roads were mainly quiet.

I rejoined the Camino without difficulty. I followed the road between Bezana and Mompia. At Mompia it joined a busier road but there was a pavement. There was a housing estate that was finished except for one block which was just a concrete shell. There was no-one working on it so I assume the builders had run out of money,

The road continued into Boo. There were views across the fields but, I must admit, the walk was not particularly interesting. Near Boo there were apartments that looked like they had been built out of Lego.

There was an option to take the train across the Rio de Mogro estuary. There used to be a ferry but this is gone. Pilgrims then used to walk across a railway bridge, not only illegal but dangerous. The Camino has been diverted south to cross the Pas river between Maple and Oruna and this is the route I took.

In fact this part of the walk was reasonably nice. It followed a tarmac pedestrian and cycle path along the river bank.

I crossed the river at an old bridge that local signs said was medieval but Gronze say it was built in the 18th century.

After the bridge I turned on to a quiet lane that led uphill between trees and fields to a small collection of houses. The Camino continued mainly on quiet roads but with short stretches on the N611.

Then I missed a turn. Gronze specifically said do not cross the motorway bridge and the yellow arrow is hidden by plants. I forgot this and went off piste. I realised I had gone wrong after walking up a hill to a path junction where there was no yellow arrow. It was not too difficult to find my way back to the route using the Gronze on line map and I was soon in Mar.

Now. Mar is Spanish for Sea and Mar is nowhere near the sea. Furthermore the mermaid must be lost

From Mar I walked to Requejada on a track parallel to the railway. Requejada was not nice, there was a 2km walk on a pavement alongside a busy main road with a large chemical plant at the bottom of the hill.

My leg was sore. I stopped to make up an electrolyte solution (which helped, thanks Connor). Robert (from California) passed me, he had walked the 36km from Santander.

I turned off the man road and followed a quiet country road between fields with good views of the hills. This was a nice end to today’s walk. I was encouraged by a sticker on a lamppost.

Santillana del Mar is not by the sea either. And, from information gained from the Altamira Cave museum on my day off, it never has been. It is a beautiful village, with cobbled streets and grand old houses, According to the Cicerone guide, its residents became rich in the Middle Ages from the wool and linen trade. It is now a tourist hot spot with the usual range of gift shops but still very beautiful.

I had a rest day here. My knee needed it. I still walked 4km to see the Altamira cave museum, very informative about life here in the late Stone Age. The cave is meant to have the best prehistoric paintings in the world. They were in danger of being damaged by visitors so numbers are severely restricted but they have built a facsimile at the museum which also contains interesting artefacts.

Approximate distance 24km

This was very much a day of two halves. The first half consisted of walking through countryside along quiet roads followed by a stunning cliff top walk. The second half was an uninteresting walk on roads out of Santander. It was also a day where there were a lot of different people to talk to.

It was much nicer weather today and there were good views back along the Camino as the sun rose

Soon, Santander came into view, the sun shining on its buildings

I gradually caught up with the pilgrim in front of me, Eric from Quebec. My ability to remember names is improving slightly. I try to associate the name with something familiar. Eric spoke with a French accent so he was Cantona, although he is an engineer not a footballer.

There was a pretty church at Galizano

The trees in the churchyard are plane trees. They grow very quickly to give a shady canopy in the summer. They are pollarded to keep then small. They are very common along the Camino. They are the same species that you see in the squares of French villages where they are allowed to grow tall and give that lovely shade to sit under when having a leisurely lunch.

Mountains could be seen to the south

So I think I made a mistake when I said I could see the Picos de Europa in an earlier post. There is a range of mountains that stretch across northern Spain. The mountains I saw before were the Basque mountains. The mountains I can see now are the Cantabrian mountains, of which the Picos form part. Some geologists consider that the Basque mountains run into the Pyrenees and are continuous with the Cantabrian range. Confused? Yes, so am I. The important thing is they are all beautiful to look at.

We caught up with Karen further along the road. We left the road soon after Galizano and climbed up to the cliff top. This part of the coast is very different to where I was walking further east. The tops are much flatter, like in south-east England, with lovely golden sand beneath.

I stopped for a rest and to watch the waves. A lizard was sunbathing on top of a post.

A Welshman came along (name forgotten, so much for new memory technique). I think we mused about the difference between a pilgrimage and a long walk but I can’t remember what we decided. I think we concluded that on the pilgrimage we try to be nice to everyone and that we should take that home to “real life.”

I pushed on. I dropped down to the beach and caught up with Karen and met a Californian called Robert. Whereas Angela and Karen’s and Eric’s partners do not like long distance multi day treks, Robert’s wife likes walking but she wanted to do the Camino Frances so they are doing different routes at the same time.

There was a long walk along the beach to Somo where we got a ferry across the Bay of Santander. The crossing was very windy.

It was now time to say goodbye to the last of the peregrinos I have walked with intermittently over the last 2 weeks. I think Richard and Ellie are a couple of days ahead. Most of the others have gone home, not everyone can take six weeks to walk the Camino in one go. Karen is having a rest day tomorrow and then will take two days to get to Santillana del Mar so I will be a day ahead. Such is the the nature of the Camino and, I am sure, new companions lie ahead.

I had booked a hotel in Santander but still felt fresh so I continued walking. I briefly visited the cathedral which had an attractive crypt, where I got my sello (credencial stamp) for the day. These are necessary to prove you are a pilgrim to stay in some of the albergue. They are also proof that you have walked (or cycled or rode on horseback) and you can get a certificate (Compostella), written in Latin, from the cathedral office in Santiago.

I met an Australian teacher who shared the dormitory with me at Guermes, maybe I will see him later on the road.

I stopped for my usual lunch. Then there was a long walk along a busy road through Santander for over 5km. At last I turned off on to a quieter road and then alone a path adjacent to a railway line until I got to Santa Cruz de Bezana. I decided I could get from here to Santillana del Mar in a day so I took the train back to Santander for a rest.

Approximate distance 15km

A short day today. It was one of those days when I was putting on and taking off wet weather gear all day. Like much of my walk in Cantabria, most of it was on road.

There was a bar near where I was staying where service must have been very slow.

The walk was reasonable. I soon left Noja behind. Most of the roads were quiet and, like all of the inland walking of the last few days, there were views of rolling hills with a mixture of fields and woodland with occasional villages and farmhouses.

There were quite a few medium to large sized birds of prey out hunting. They were about buzzard size, and these are found in Spain but I cannot be certain on the species.

In many of the fields there were round concrete structures.

I wondered whether these were defensive structures from the Spanish Civil War but Gronze suggests they are built to store fodder for the animals.

It started raining about 2pm and I was pleased to arrive at the hostel early

This is a traditional pilgrim’s hostel. It is a donativo hostel so they do not make an official charge but you donate what you think is the right amount and, if you are a poor pilgrim, you can stay for free. If you can afford to pay extra, they use the money to house and feed the less well off. They do not receive any external funding.

This was an amazing place to stay As I arrived at the front porch one of the hostel volunteers hurried me to take off my wet things as lunch was about to be served. We had lentil and vegetable soup and a pasta salad. Lots of very nice food. Karen was there. There was a Dutch couple who started at Santiago de Compostela and are walking back to Holland. There was a Taiwanese girl and a couple of Germans. Others arrived while we were eating.

Afterwards I was shown to my bunk, 10 bedded rooms, and I relaxed for the rest of the day as it was raining heavily.

At about 19:30 we were gathered together and the owner of the albergue, Ernesto Bustio (who is now 87), with the aid of interpreters (there were 74 pilgrims of 20 different nationalities), told us of the history of the building, his life and philosophy.

The farm was built by his father, the room where we ate was used to house the animals. He trained and worked as a priest. He spent 27 months visiting small, remote communities in Africa and Latin America which he describes as “learning from the University of Life”.He opened the albergue in 1999 and it is filled with artefacts from his travels. He talked a bit about migration, saying we are all migrants.

Afterwards we had dinner. At my table there were French, German and American peregrinos.

This albergue is considered a “must stop” on the Camino Norte. It is one of the most remarkable places where I have stayed.

Approximate distance 21km

The cloud and rain were back today. One of the advantages of staying in Liendo was to be able to take the longer cliff top path to Laredo rather than walk along the road.

I walked along quiet lanes to the north side of Liendo where I took a stony path that climbed through the edge of woodland uphill. There were good views back to Liendo and yesterdays’ hills.

I reached a road by a ruined ermitage. After a short distance along the road, I turned on to a stony path above a deserted beach.

The path continued to climb to the top of the cliff. I passed some old winding gear, there used to be iron ore mining in this area.

At the top of the cliff I lost the yellow arrows. I wandered down a cow track until it petered out in the scrub. There were a few pilgrims up here by now. We retraced our steps back to a ruins barn and then saw the correct path that descended down a farm track to Laredo.

On the way down I passed a signpost with a lot of mementos attached to it. I don’t know the significance of this post as it was the only one so decorated so far.

I entered Laredo near its church. I then walked through old cobbled streets to the town centre where I had my usual brunch of tortilla, bread and coffee.

After lunch there were curious wavy lines on the pavements and, no, I had not had any beer.

I think it does come across in the picture. The pavement is actually flat but it looks (and felt) as it was uneven, as if you were walking on waves. Very disconcerting.

The next stage was to walk along the long promenade to the ferry at the end. There were people playing golf on the beach. There were flags in what I presumed to be holes. I don’t know how it worked.

A little further on I saw a familiar orange rucksack cover up ahead. It was Karen. She was one of the unlucky ones who couldn’t get a place in last night’s albergue and had to push on to Laredo. She had stayed in a hotel and had a late start. Her blisters were troubling her.

We pushed on to the end of the spit where we got on a ferry to take us across the narrow estuary of the Ria de Treto.

Once across, as we paused to put on our rucksacks. there was the sounds of drums and bagpipes. There was a costumed parade.

I presume this was something to do with the May Day celebrations. There were several groups from the north of Spain in different costumes parading through the town. I had always thought of bagpipes being a west Europe tradition of course, I was well aware of Scottish, Northumbrian and Irish pipes and I am a big fan of Alan Stivell who raised the popularity of Breton pipes (as well as the Celtic harp). I read that bagpipes are played across Europe and in some parts of Asia and north Africa.

It was a joyous celebration.We followed them to the central square here a stage had been set up. There were a lot of people, street food and beer sellers. It looked like the party was just starting! We needed to press on and followed a road through the rest of Santoña. Just outside town we walked past a large, dour looking prison. After this was a surf beach and then we took a steep cliff path.

This was a narrow path through scrub that took us steeply up and then steeply down to the long beach of Noja.

We parted company. I wanted to watch the waves and have a paddle. I was not alone for long. The Italian group I met last night arrived. Two of them were braver than me. They stripped to their pants and ran into the sea. They didn’t stay in long but, respect, the water was cold.

I walked about 2km along the sand to Noja. Just before the town there was an estuary so I joined the road for the last few hundred metres.

The most interesting view of the day was in the evening, when the tide had gone out and rocks appeared in the bay.

Approximate distance 25km

Many of the pensions do not provide breakfast. I had bought some croissants and fruit juice yesterday so I ate these and set off early. I had seen a yellow arrow near the church so I walked back past the harbour which looked nice in the early morning light.

I picked up the Camino and followed it to a beach. I looked at my digital map and realised that the official path followed roads but I could walk for a couple of kilometres along the coast. I followed the beach and was surprised to read that it is artificial. It looks nice though.

Almost Caribbean

At the end of the beach I climbed up on to the cliff top and had a good view back along the coast.

I followed the flat, grassy path around a headland and then found a track that took me back to the main road. I had to follow this for a couple of kilometres but there was a verge to walk on and the traffic was light as most cars take the main A8.

At a road junction I walked under the A8 to rejoin the Camino at a minor road that ran into the small village of Cerdigo.

Here I took a stony path through woodland and across fields with good views of the coast

Eventually the path dropped to the estuary of the Ria de Orinoco.

I rejoined the road and followed it to the small village of El Pontarron de Guriezo. I was hoping to get lunch in a bar here but it was closed. Fortunately there was a small supermarket and I bought an empanada and an apple pastry. The German and Austrian couple joined me. They are going to Santander but then have to go back to work. There was an old stone bridge with a shell motif that must have been the old pilgrim road.

After lunch there was a short section of a riverside path but soon I returned to the road. The Camino followed small roads uphill through lovely little villages. There were rolling hills on all sides so it was pleasant walking. At Lugarejos there was a small Ermita. Two horse riders had stopped for a rest.

Shortly afterwards I started the final descent into Liendo. A group of French people passed me going uphill. I was sure they were pilgrims as they had shells on their rucksacks. I asked if they were going the wrong way but they assured me they were heading to Castro-Urdiales, some pilgrims do the walk in reverse.

I continued downhill on a stony path into Liendo. The village is spread out over a wide area and it was about a kilometre from the edge of the village to the centre and the albergue.

This was very relaxed. There was a sign on the door that said if there was an empty bunk you could have it and the hospitelera would come at 7pm. I found a bunk and decided to buy some ready cooked food from the supermarket. This was a mistake. The German/Austrian couple offered to share some pasta with me. Then an Italian group arrived and proceeded to teach us how to make a proper sofritto. I tasted some, it was delicious.

In the meantime the albergue filled up and late arrivals had to get a taxi or walk on to Laredo. Despite being full, there was no snoring and I had a good night’s sleep. I am getting used to the Albergue etiquette of getting up early, quietly picking up your stuff (carefully arranged the night before) and packing in the kitchen or common room.

Aproximate distance 27km

The metro station in Portugalete is well above the river. I had walked up to it yesterday, avoiding the moving pavement so as not to cheat! So there was not too much more uphill this morning. I looked for a shop to buy some trail snacks. Every time I ventured down a side street I was stopped by a kind local pointing the way along the Camino.

I came to the tangle of roads that bypass Portugalete and connect it to the A8. Here the Camino joined a cycle path (bright red tarmac). This snaked its way alongside and between the road network. At first there were panels of clear plastic (although covered with graffiti) which help shield from the traffic noice, later these were replaced with hedges which, while prettier, were not so noise resistant.

Eventually the path left the spaghetti junction to run alongside a main road around the town of Ortuella. There was good woodland scenery and hills around me so the kilometres passed quickly.

Not long after Ortuella the Welsh couple, Richard and Ellie joined from a side path and I walked with them for the rest of the day. We descended to the beautiful beach of Playa de la Arena.

I had seen very few other pilgrims up to now today. We stopped at a beach bar for breakfast . Within 20 minutes the terrace was full of peregrinos and peregrinas. Despite a big breakfast I was hungry and a tortilla slice, a large chocolate croissant and two cups of coffee did the trick.

We walked along a promenade along the top end of the beach, easier than walking on soft sand. We crossed a bridge over a small river near the Pobena albergue. Here we were meant to take the cliff path but it appeared closed. A man coming the other way said (in Spanish that we only partially understood) that the path was passable.

We climbed steeply up some steps and were rewarded with a good view back along the beach.

At the top of the steps the path flattened out, the Cicerone guide says that we were walking on the track bed of an old railway that was used to deliver iron ore to the coast where it could be loaded on to ships. The cliff must be prone to rockfalls because we passed areas where it had been strengthened.

A little further we care to a tall gate and a wire fence blocking the path. There was a hole in the fence and, determined not to have to retrace our steps, we climbed through. Here, work was still in progress to strengthen the cliff. We then came to another locked gate. This time we were more fortunate. The workers were just leaving for the day and they opened the gate to let us out. No doubt in England there would have been a fuss that we were not supposed to be there but here they just let us pass with a “Buen Camino.”

It was a lovely day so I decided to stop for a while to contemplate the view. The others carried on and we agreed to meet to eat later.

The path continued to contour around the side of the cliff. It went through a short tunnel and then joined a road that descended to the village of Onton. Here I had a choice of routes

By the coast of course! There was a long road descent to the village of Miono. I could see Castro-Urdiales in the distance.

There was meant to be a pretty coastal path just above Miono but I missed the turn off. Instead I walked through the village to join another old railway line that led through a tunnel in a rocky outcrop and emerged at the top of Castro-Urdiales.

I walked down to the seafront. The town is dominated by the large Iglesia de Santa Maria de la Asuncion and the adjacent old castle.

Building of the church commenced in the 13th century. It was an impressive collection of flying buttresses

There are unusual icons above the entrance door

The interior was also well worth a visit. Outside the church, enjoying the evening sun, were three of the German girls from the group I has been following, the others having remained in Bilbao. I said my goodbyes to them as this was their last day of walking.

I found my Pensión, a flat above a shop, it was fine. I met Richard and Ellie. Most of the bars were serving pint is but we eventually found a Mexican restaurant, not really traditional Spanish food but it was good.

Approximate distance 21km

Today was the sunniest day so far. After a leisurely breakfast I took the train back to Zamudio. Outside the station, the young German group and a couple of Americans who had walked from Lezama were about to set off uphill. I explained I was not cheating as I was starting from the same point I has stopped walking yesterday.

I walked past a 15th century tower, once a farmhouse but now an exhibition centre and a library.

The Camino signs were not clear here. I found my way using Gronze maps. The Camino followed a road through a small industrial estate and then across the A8. The moon was setting over the hill that I was about to climb.

I stooped for a drink and to apply sun protection. A group of Irish women walked up. I had first met then checking into the hotel in Guernica. This was their last day’s walk before returning home. A French couple, who I had seen several times before, came past. They would be staying in the same hotel as me in Bilbao. Finally a young couple overtook me as I set off again. It would later transpire that they were Austrian and German and I would see them in the days to come. Such is the nature of transient friendships on the Camino.

Apparently, at the top of the road bees were hard at work

I can report that no bees, hives or flowers were visible. I left the road to join a stony path and climb fairly steeply up through woodland. I shared the path with the invertebrate of the day.

I eventually emerged on to a road and continued to climb to the top of the hill. There were views down to the Bilbao valley.

There was a steep descent through parkland to reach a road at the top of Bilbao. a series of roads took me through the old town and down to the river Nervion.

The rest of the days walk was to follow the riverbank to Portugalete. At first this was a nice walk as the buildings of central Bilbao were quite interesting. There was a good view of the Guggenheim museum across the river.

After the suburbs the road passed through a rather industrialised area. The next few kilometres were not particularly interesting. It was also quite hot and there was no shade. Halfway to Portugalete I was grateful to be able to buy an ice cream.

Eventually I arrived in Portugalete. I had to cross the river and there is a remarkable old bridge.

There are two ways to cross. You can take an elevator and walk across a wooden walkway on top of the bridge. I chose to ride in the vehicle and passenger car you can see suspended from a track underneath the walkway.

The next day was a rest day. It was May 1st, International Labour Day. I watched the celebratory March and went to the Guggenheim museum.

Approximate distance 26km

Another late start as I needed some trail snacks and I couldn’t find a food shop that opened before 9am. I suspect it would be more politically correct to write the Basque spelling of the city: Gernika.

Guernica is the historic centre of the Basque government. It is probably most widely known for the 1936 massive aerial bombardment by the Luftwaffe, supported by the Italian air force, at the request of Franco. While Guernica has some strategic importance as it controls the estuary of the Mundaka river it is generally accepted the carpet bombing was aimed to terrorise the civilian population. A Monday was chosen for the bombing as there was (and still is) a large regional market so the civilian casualties would be maximum. Over 1000 people were killed and the city was devastated (fires burned for 3 days); pictures of the devastation are on display around the city centre.

Picasso painted his famous picture Guernika to immortalise the destruction. He loaned it to MOMA in New York and refused to allow it to return to Spain until the Fascist government was replaced by a democracy. Picasso did not live to see this; it was returned to Madrid in 1981. A full size ceramic facsimile (the painting is over 25 x 11 feet) is on display in Guernika.

The Camino continued up the road then turned through a residential area that came to an abrupt end at an ermita. I walked across two fields and then joined a stony path that climbed steeply into woodland. The path widened into a forestry track. This became very muddy in places. There has been some clearance of the trees which offered good views back to Guernica

The young German group overtook me as I climbed up the hill. There were two other groups of walkers that I hadn’t seen before.

Above the forest the path became grassy and the views opened up.

Even though the weather has been mixed it has really been a lovely few days walking through the hills. Or should I say mountains? Until the mid 20th century a mountain was geographically defined as a hill with an elevation of more than 1000 feet (303 metres). To misquote Shakespeare, a hill by any other name would be as sweet, but more tiring to climb. The OED defines a mountain as higher than a hill. Hmm! That’s useful.

The path joined a road. I passed the Pozueya albergue which looked nice. Although I was walking on tarmac the road was quiet and the views were nice. I descended to cross a main road. On the other side I re-entered the forest. The route alternated between track, footpath and road with multiple climbs and descents. As I entered Goikolexea there was a pretty orange tree with lilies underneath

I joined the main road and walked 2km down to Larrabetzu. There was no doubt that Basque independence is still a political hot potato.

I had planned to stay in the albergue here but it was only 13:30. I could have joined a Swiss pelegrina (who I met for brunch a few days ago) for menu del dia and wine but I wanted to walk on.

I grabbed a Pintxos and a drink and continued. Walking through the village was nice but there is not much to say about the next 10km. I followed the main road down to Zamudio. The best bits were buying coffee and cake and then passing Athletico Bilbao’s training ground. By the time I got to Zamudio I had had enough. There was still Monte Avril between me and Bilbao. I decided to stop. I phoned ahead and got an extra night in the hotel I had booked in the Casco Viejo (old town). I then got on the Bilbao metro. I do not consider this cheating, I will return tomorrow and start from where I left off.