< Norte Day 5 — Norte Day 7 > < Norte Index >
23 kilometers, 4.5 hours, passing through Larrabetzu, Lezama, Zamudio, then the nice suburbs of Bilbao and through a park, climbing over Alta Avril.
Jody left the albergue first. Then me. But Hendrik and Sheng caught up to me within a few miles. Our path that day: a mix of paved country lanes and shoe-sucking muddy trails through forest plantations recently logged. Logging practices in Spain are impressive. They manage their forests very well, and when it comes time to harvest, they leave everything but the tree trunks on the ground to manage runoff and feed the soil for the next crop. However, where the loading of logs occurs, it’s a mess. Choose your route wisely.
This was Basque Country. The signs always there to see. Not just the village, city and business signs which were in Vasco (Basque) and in Spanish, but the graffiti and stencils everywhere demanding a separation from Spain or the release of political prisoners. Those signs can be a little unnerving to someone from a rural California community. But the Basque people and their politics don’t bleed over onto pilgrims of the Camino. They are just as likely to show you the correct way, lead you to a shop or bar, or run a wonderful albergue in the middle of nowhere.
I had planned to take a short day and spend the afternoon at the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. This turned out to be an excellent plan.
I made the trek into Bilbao with Sheng and Hendrik. We visited the beautiful Basilica of Begona as we walked into the city, then stopped for lunch close to the Cathedral de Santiago. We didn’t go into the cathedral because of a wedding inside. Great food and talk about plans for the next day filled the afternoon. We planned to meet up next in Castro Urdiales. I had reservations at a hostel in Bilbao not far from the Guggenheim, and they were headed toward another albergue on the Camino.
At the Bcool Guitar, my hostel for the night, I checked in to get cleaned up for a late afternoon of being a tourist. The Bcool as just that, super cool, and hip; a very modern facility. But it was not the best for a weary pilgrim. People, mostly young, came and went at all hours of the night. Some there to clean up, grab their packs, and go off to catch a train or bus. There were some that stayed out partying late and came back quite noisily. And me—happy to get up early and hit the trail. If for no other reason than to find a quieter place.
The Guggenheim did not disappoint. But I was more impressed by the building and great sculptures than the artworks. Simply extraordinary. It should be listed as a wonder of the world or something. I’m not some huge art admirer, but I was expecting something different in the collections. Maybe they will come. The facility is extraordinary, though. It is covered with titanium sheets, like square scales on a fish. The cost must have been astonishing, as well. It and the huge sculptures, both inside and out, are worth your time.
After the museum and wandering about the city, I got supplies for the next day, a Sunday. Many things are closed Sundays. Next, pinchos. Then back to the hostel. As I said, it was noisy, and, by pilgrim standards, it was expensive at thirty-five euros for the night.