Ziortza-Bolibar (Spain) | A Long Hot Day - Day 90

I am finally back with all the Pilgrims. At 430 am, people are already stirring and packing their things. I do my best to ignore them and fall back asleep.

When I finally wake up at 6 am, the couple next to me is already gone, and most of the pilgrims are gathering their things. I start my routine and wish Céline a Buen Camino as she heads out around 645 am. At 7 am, I pick up my things, step outside the Albergue and start eating breakfast. Little Basque cakes, chocolate milk, and a banana I grabbed yesterday.

José is sitting outside, doctoring his feet. We leave together at 705 am. The Albergue in Deba was built in 1799 and has served Peregrinos since then. It is adjacent to the railroad station and a great little Albergue that has been modernized to suit the techno-Pilgrims of today. Electric plug-ins, a washer and dryer, and WiFi are all present. 

The trail immediately begins to climb. At 730 am, halfway up the climb, Alex and Borja come flying by me. "Come on, Martin. Let's go!" Borja says as he flies past me. Borja has nearly 20 years on me. After spending the day with Borja in Zarautz, I decided that there was no use trying to keep up with Borja; this would only get me into trouble along the Camino. He needs to walk his Camino, and I need to walk mine. I cheer him on as he passes by.

Today's stage is another butt-grinder. The stage was supposed to take me to Markina; however, a shortage of Alburgues caused me to push on to Ziortza-Bolibar, which added another 5 km (3 mi) for a total of 29 km (17 mi). The elevation today maxes out around 550 m (1,800 ft).

The little town of Deba looks lovely this morning as I cross the bridge leaving town.

The sky is full of pink and purple tones this morning when I finally climb out of the trees. It is a beautiful morning. It is supposed to be hot today, near 90 F (32 C). 

The road is lined with these beautiful white stone crosses this morning. I wonder what story the crosses have to tell. Why are they here, and when were they paced here?

The trail leads us southwest, away from the coast for a few days. This is the last glimpse of the ocean I have this morning. Below is part of the trail I climbed up this morning to get this view.

As I look west, I can see the mountain I will climb in the next few days. Bilbao, Spain, is located west of these mountains and is a four-day journey from here.

During the morning climbs, I leapfrog a couple of Spaniards multiple times. Each time they approach, I can hear them coming. One carries a speaker in his backpack. The volume is not too loud, and the music has a consistent thump-thump-thump without lyrics. After passing them several times, I don't actually mind it this morning. I am confident I wouldn't want to listen to it every day, but the beat is good for hoofing up the hills. Each time we reach the climb's end, they stop for a smoke break. Then they pass me a bit later when I stop to adjust my left shoulder and ribs. They are still giving me fits, but it is manageable.

When I stop for lunch, I decide to try something different. I am tired of having sweat run into my eyes when I climb. So, I tap into my inner phoenix once again, pull out my bright blue buff, and put it on. I hope it will keep the sweat from my forehead out of my eyes.

When I resume the climb after lunch, it works beautifully. My new headdress matches my shorts perfectly. I laugh as I think my transformation continues. 

The trail continues to be a grind. Each uphill is followed by a descent. I have to stop periodically to adjust my shoulder and first rib. Sometimes I can go several hours; other times, only 15-20 min before having to stop and adjust again. Otherwise, I am feeling good. The miles are automatic now. My body knows what it needs to do and tackles each ascent and descent when they present themselves.

When I near the city of Markina and before descending into the town, I pass this rock quarry. It catches my attention as it looks like the locals are not done building the mountain. But, in reality, they are removing a large section of it, piece by piece.

The descent into Markina is brutal! It is steep and on concrete. As usual, I take my time, but I am growing tired of these long steep descents. I'm not sure, but I suspect they are over 20%. Finally, near the bottom, I pass the two German girls. The blond one fell on the descent, and they are getting her back to her feet. I ask if they need help, and her sister tells me they are alright.

When I arrive in Markina, there are Pilgrims everywhere. Most are sitting in front of the Albergue. I find Céline, who tells me there is no room. Céline, Lisbon, and a young girl from the Netherlands begin working collectively to find an alternative. After 30 min, Céline books an Albergue in a town 5 km (3 mi) away. It is a single room with 8 beds. We decide to all split the cost, which arrives at 20 euros per person. It is hot today and now I just added another 5 km (3 mi) of uphill to my walk.

Borja finds me. He tells me he made the 24 km hike in 3.5 hours today. He was the second to arrive at 11 am. I bring him up to speed. We hug and wish each other a Buen Camino. Then I head out with Céline to the next town. The others, Lisbon and the three from the Netherlands, will take a bus. Along the way, we run into the two German girls, who are also looking for a room. We offer up the two extra beds in our Albergue. They are thrilled. Below is Albergue Usandi, where we stayed. Some less fortunate Pilgrims continued further and stayed at the monastery for the night.

My fellow Peregrinos for the night. Left to Right: Lisbon (Denmark), Kirsten, Ivo, Lap (Netherlands), Helena and Tamina (Germany), and Celine (France).

We arrive at the restaurant hungry for dinner, but the bartender tells us they only serve food on Fridays and Saturdays. So everyone buys a beer, and I buy a couple plates of olives and chips for the group. As we are wrapping up, Helena says that the vending machine at the Albergue has some dinner options. I tell everyone, see the Camino always provides. We all laugh.

I buy a package of Pasta Primavera and cook it on the stovetop. Everyone tries something different. We all laugh about the experience; however, we are grateful we won't go hungry tonight.