Fantastic meal last night in Mutiku. On the end of the quay. A choice of just two meals chicken or tuna. Both were cooked on an open charcoal fire. We had the chicken. They just ripped the chicken into four pieces then put a shovelful of chips on top. The wine came with pint glasses! Very hearty. And all for around a tenner(GBP) each!
In the bar beforehand we watched the bull run (not sure if it was from Pamplona, but it probably was). I liked the commentators walking around the 'paddock' before the off. Just like in F1. Couldn't understand what they were saying, but I guess they were saying something like "see that lardy-boy over there. I bet he'll get a horn up right up the jacksy before turn two!" The actual run was mad. Huge bulls ploughing their way through hundreds of manically racing men. Looks so difficult running at full tilt whilst looking over your shoulder and watching out for the bends and for the 'fallers'. And not looking like a wimp in front of the ladies. Then endless replays of the highlights such as when some guy got sandwiched between two bulls and still managed to jump over a fat bloke on the deck! He'll dine out on that one for years.
The hotelier at Mutiku told us that it wouldn't rain today. Woke up to pouring rain! When I tackled him he just said it wouldn't rain tomorrow. Mañana!
Spent the morning going through yet more mountains in the pouring rain. It was absolutely atrocious weather. Four hours of monsoon-like conditions. Very dark too, especially with cycling sun glasses on too. Never been so wet. The long decents were very hard on the aqua planing brakes pads. Cold too. Never been so wet, cold and tired in my life. But, the legs are showing the benefit. Now have bulging chunky leg muscles - but enough about Jackie.
But! the sun eventually came out in time for our arrival in fabulous city of San Sebatian. Amazing place. Tapas and ice cream for me. Nectarines for her.
After a long day in the saddle, we've finally reached France. Prob did 100K today Although we can't see the Pyrenees yet. We're in Hendaye.
Saw plenty more of those pilgrims again today plodding their way west. Still can't believe their lack of preparedness. For example, saw one pilgrim walking up a hill in the pouring rain with about 400 miles still to go to Santiago. He was wearing t shirt and jeans with a pair of shorts. He was carrying nothing! No bag. No spare clothes. No food. No water. Not even a slight bulge in his pocket to indicate a spare pair of pants. He was about 30, I guess and looked too miserable for words. I just don't get it. There were a couple of pilgrims staying at our hotel last night. They set off at dawn. These two did have a back pack and waterproofs. But they were the exception. They didn't speak to us. Mutual.
Never been to this part if Spain before. In France ( like in the Costas), one's used to seeing loads of Brits/Dutch/Germans etc. but not here. All very Spanish.
Crossing into France, I'm left with two thoughts that I've been pondering whilst I've been churning the pedals through the Basqus mountains:
1. The sign 'WC' is seen all over the place. What the hell does the average Spaniard think it stands for!
2. Do the Spanish have a word for 'lisp'?