Waking up the next morning I heard a stream rippling nearby. There was a different aroma to normal. I stirred and orientated myself and realised I was under canvas, in a foreign country, and not at home. Coming out of the confusion I unzipped the tent flap, and saw ahead of me the wooded bank leading to the stream. Everything else was very quiet. I gathered together my bits and pieces and aimed for the shower. Expecting cold or at best tepid water I was delighted to find hot water in abundance! Back to the tent and striking the piezo lit my Coleman F1 Power Stove back in action for boiling water and a large mug of tea. That's when the day really starts!
The route towards Santander was going to be awkward, not being sure whether to avoid the cities en route altogether, or suffer the likely pain of congestion and traffic just to see something of these places. I chose the latter.
I packed up my new Hilleberg Tarra in a few short minutes, enjoyed a quick breakfast of cereals and fruit, and was away by 08:30 am. I wanted to see if there were any more remote spots locally and headed towards Parentis and the nearby Étang de Biscarrosse et de Parentis (southern lake).
Incidentally I bought the Hilleberg Tarra tent especially for this trip in order to allow me to overnight as quickly as possible and 'wild' camp should the opportunity arise. Being green it was very inconspicuous and would entertain any bad weather should that situation arise, if not in Spain at other times in the future.
I enjoyed an espresso outside a little waterside cafe. Afterwards I drove on and stumbled across a quiet spot, a secluded beach and a half sunken wooden dinghy. Something of a Robinson Crusoe setting! Not a soul there!
It was around 10:30 and I thought I'd enjoy the moment, grab my chair and towel and have a sunbathe and swim for an hour. I strode out into the water, and strode, and strode but the water didn't get any deeper! After about 200 yards I was only just about up to my waist so collapsed into the water and stayed there for a good 20 minutes. Bliss!
The trouble when you lay out a plan is you can't stay anywhere for too long. Santander was calling. So everything was packed away and off we went. Biarritz! Queues of traffic, crowds of people, narrow streets...what have I done? Stationary now. Nothing moving. I ended up becoming lost in an attempt at extricating myself and unwittingly found myself driving along the seafront past the Casino then past the absolutely tiny Vieux Port that looked as though it should have been anywhere else but the centre of bustling Biarritz.
Having learnt my mistake it was motorway, regrettably, from here. I didn't leave Biarritz until about 2 pm so a skirt round San Sebastion and Bilbao was the order of the day. The traffic again, even on the motorways, was horrendous, and this was certainly not what I had set out to experience!
After several hours I arrived at a clean but chock-a-block camp site 'Los Molins' just short of Santander, in a small village called Bareyo. Early start I thought! Seemed almost a waste of a day, apart from the morning swim, but had accomplished 252 miles and I was in Cantabria, Spain.
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