With a diminishing twelve hour day of sunlight, the early morning chill becomes our daily reminder that summer is coming to a close. A reminder that this short trip is doing likewise too.
Day 17 – we delay our pitch-up onto the terraced site of Camping Rodero by a couple of hours. 400 metres down wind is the massive Playa Oyambre. Beastie is left to twiddle his brake pads, road-side, while we go and twiddle our toes, beach-side.
Day 18 – Today our shortish trip of 160K to Camping Sopelana, Bilbao, includes a big top-up shop and an extended check-in period of an hour. On arrival at 3.45pm reception is closed. Obviously siesta time. We queue at the gate. Fourth in line, with three more MOHOs behind. It’s 5pm by the time we’re pitched up in the sun, with sea glimpses. Probably worth an extra bob or two in a Torquay guest house.
With both the sight and the sound overwhelming, Mr S can’t resist. A fifteen minute downhill trundle sees him playing like a local kiddywink in the rolling surf for half an hour. Surfers are out in force as the force of the incoming tide rises, along with the height of the incoming waves.
Back at base camp and drying out nicely, we get ambushed by a local prowler. She’s on the look-out for some Scooby Snacks. How did she know Mrs S always travels prepared?
