We’ve had one morning without rain since we arrived. The rest of the time it’s chucked it down with varying severity. This was not in the plan.
Our first morning was overcast, and while we hadn’t seen the forecast, we luckily got out for a walk while we could.
The beach is only a few hundred metres from our campsite, and what a beach. Even on a grey blustery day it was a beautiful place to be. Sheltered from the Atlantic in a bay, it’s a spotless wide arc of sand meeting the mouth of the river Nervión where Gorliz merges with the neighbouring town of Plentzia. Both are quite everyday Spanish towns with not much to see bar the odd church or old town wall, but nice for a wander around nonetheless.
We stopped for lunch in a bar, with a cerveza and an abomination of a cup of tea. Naff tea bags are one thing, but too much (hot?!) milk in the cup beforehand is another level of hell. Just as well I brought my own Yorkshire teabags to get my fix in at the caravan.
Anyway, lunch was a selection of pinxtos from the bar, small sandwiches and bites for a Euro each. Most bars seem to do these and the region is renowned for them, we’ve certainly not been disappointed so far. We have debated the appropriate portion size though. Locals sit at the bar and seem to pick at one or maybe two with their wine, we treated it more like a buffet and loaded our plates.
We’ve given ourself a rule that we have to eat like we’re at home, not like we’re on holiday or we’ll come back massive. Except the pinxtos are too tempting and there’s too much choice, so we’d better start buying some elasticated waistbands.
Increasing drizzle heralded the walk back to the campsite, as obviously we’d just come out in tshirts, despite it not being that warm. The lifeguard bundled up in his coat had looked at us like we were genuinely demented when we’d dragged the buggy over the sand to go and have a paddle earlier on.
We found a supermarket minutes after it had shut for the next 2 1/2 hours, admitted defeat and went back to the caravan to wait out the rain… that hasn’t really stopped now for the last 3 days.
Saturday was well and truly a washout. We’d spent Friday night wondering if we were going to be fried in our own tin box in the heart of a lightening storm, to wake up to an increasingly seeping awning and a forecast of more downpours.
After getting the contents of the awning off floor level, and bracing the flappy wall with the buggy, we hunkered down for the day. Did we mention we were within wifi range of reception? That’s the only reason we didn’t kill each other. Taking it in turns to entertain an increasingly fractious Evelyn, we did at least manage to research the campsites for the rest of our stops in Spain, so a productive day after all.
The forecast for Monday is sunny at least, and on Sunday we’re braving Bilbao regardless.