Monday, August 9
This was my last week of freedom, on the following Monday, I was bound to start a new job back in Vienna. It was around 9 am by the time I left the campground, rather late for me, but, as I had mentioned, somehow the eagerness of a major ride had somewhat evaporated. Still, I had quite nice stretches of road ahead of me that day, following the coast, quite a roller coaster, left, right, up, down. One would expect a lot of traffic near the coast – not here. I had a lot of stretches just for myself, enjoying the views of the coastline. In Mutriku, I went in for a swim at a nice beach with sand and rocks.
Later, I saw a sign for a camping, which read “kanpina”, a rather interesting word in my native Hungarian. In the afternoon, I often wondered if the road I was riding on was closed due to some reason, with the natural beauty around me, it was surprising that I was (almost) on my own. The vegetation was lush green, I could have mistaken place for Austria as well, had it not been for the sea just a few hundred meters away. In the afternoon, I got to Lekeitio, hosting the wonderful gothic basilica Santa Maria from the 15th century – and of course a large beach. I later got to a town called Ea, with a stone bridge over a creek..
Leaving Ea, I now really felt like somewhere in Styria. Houses with red roofs, pastures with cows, hills – I wondered if they were selling Almdudler there, if not, I would have left for home, as the slogan in the ad says. The only clue was the sea, right behind the gazing cows.
I was probably still a bit confused when I made quite a mistake. I came to an intersection, with a steep road heading down to the shore, to the town of Elantxobe. I read something to the tune that there was a ferry out of there heading to Mundaka, so that I would not have to ride around a large inlet. There were but a few cars, I stopped like three, but no one spoke English and did not understand what I was after. So I decided to try my luck and started dropping downhill, it was soooo steep, I was holding my brakes for most of the time. The village, built of the slope of the rocky mass of Cape Ogoño, is a tiny one, with one house built on top of the next one, using every square foot available. Alas, no ferries whatsoever from here. Quite frustrated, I headed back uphill, swearing at myself for most of the two kilometers, that took an eternity. Back on the coast road, in Ibarranguelua (long name), I admired the church of San Andé Eliza.
Then I reached the Urdaibai estuary, where the Oca river flows into the sea. It also a well-known place for surfers, as huge swells from the Bay of Biscay roll ain and slam into the rocky coastline of the Basque Country. Remember, I tried looking for a ferry? Asking around, I actually found it, thus saving me the trouble of having to ride around the entire estuary. It turned out to be a tiny dinghy, and it was the last run of the day, but got lucky. There was not even a dock to board, the little rubber boat landed on the sandy beach and a small ladder was laid down. It was a masterwork getting my bike loaded, but the friendly lady captain helped me. We, together with other passengers, braved the large waves, got a bit wait, I started singing the song “the rain is Spain falls mainly on the plain”, and the others joined in, it was fun. We arrived on the other side, and as I was already anyhow wet, went in for a nice dip in the evening sunshine.
I found a camping site in just outside Mundaka, called Portuondo. In contrast to the spacious site the night before, I got the very last tent spot, flanked by three cars - not all too luxurious, but it was fine for the night.
Here you can see the trip in Google Maps, it was about 68 kilometers, with 1,070 meters of climbing and 1,075 meters of descending.