We’re in Spain!

This morning we took a final walk along the waterfront at Anglet and watched in amazement as twenty or so surfers rode the massive Atlantic waves. They obviously knew something good about the tides to get them out of bed and into the sea before nine in the morning.

Dogs happy and humans fully oxygenated by the sea air we set off to our first stop, a mountain village in the Pyrenees that is on the border between France and Spain. We’d seen it in the All the Aires book as a great place to visit with fantastic mountain views. It looked like it was just a short way off our route to San Sebastian and in a way that was true. The bit we hadn’t accounted for was the fact that it was 10 miles of narrow winding roads going steeply up into the mountains. If we’d thought about it the latter should have been obvious. Shirley clung to her seat as I negotiated the bends. Her tan was distinctly paler by the time we arrived at the top but it was so worth it. The views were wonderful and the houses were all in Swiss chalet style giving us the very peculiar feeling that in 15 miles we had shifted about four hundred miles east. There were even sheep with big cowbells around their necks. Or perhaps they were sheep bells; to be honest I wouldn’t know the difference.

After a walk with the dogs in the clear mountain air and a look round the distinctly tatty duty free shops we got back in the van and made our way down the mountain. It was quicker going down but Shirley, who had declined the chance to drive, was even paler by the time we got back onto a road that had two proper lanes.

We finally arrived at the Aire in San Sebastian at around 2.30 p.m. after being spun round numerous times by a confused Satnav. We joined the 20 or so motorhomes on the Aire after attempting to use the service point. We both got a bit wet from trying to get fresh water out of the tap and into the watering can we carry for the times when our hose isn’t practical to use. In this case neither was practical and both caused us to get a soaking. Good thing it’s warm here.

We paid our 6.50€ for two nights stay, hauled the dogs out of the van and set off for the beach. It felt like miles away! When we finally found it we decided it was definitely worth the walk, even though we’d risked being run over by hundreds of university students on bikes.

Just before we turned around for home we saw the sign for the Funicular railway that I’d read about before we left home and promptly forgotten. We asked if we could take the dogs and they said ‘Yes if you pay for them’ and we all got in the hundred year old carriage. Boo was terrified and if I’m honest I wasn’t too sure myself. Shirley and Poppy, on the other hand, were like excited kids, which is remarkable when you think that when I met Shirley she was too scared of heights to go up an escalator – but that’s another story.

We didn’t stay long at the top, as we didn’t know enough Spanish to work out when the last train left and we couldn’t bear the idea of walking all the way down again. The panoramic views were incredible and looking up the coast we imagined we could say the Capbreton promontory that we’d left earlier.

Back at the van Poppy ate her tea and fell to the floor completely exhausted. At one point Shirley had to check that she was breathing she was so deeply asleep. Boo just kept looking at us with that WTF look he’s developed of late before nodding off in his favourite spot – the driver’s seat.