Where there’s a will

Once again we feel we must thank so many of our readers who have very generously contributed to the Hospice in support of our pilgrimage/ride. We have been genuinely overwhelmed by the scale of your support. We are also aware from our subscription data that some have joined us on our journey and perhaps are unaware of the original motivation for our crazy project. Accordingly we have included, once again, the link to the Hospice site which explains all and offers an easy option for those who have not donated, and may wish to.

https://www.strathcarronhospice.net/Fundraisers/where-theres-a-will

At last we have truly started to let go of our points of contact. We set our phones for an early alarm as the forecast indicated that the morning would be dry turning to heavy rain around lunchtime. Due to a mixup with our accommodation booking we ended up in an apartment in Deba instead of the Pension we had booked. It was a wonderful treat with stunning views to the sea, but Deba is very steep with houses and apartment blocks built up the valley side. Our day started by descending not one but two 100ft+ tower lifts simply to get breakfast and recover our bikes! We were on the road by about 7 45am but the skies were not very encouraging.

Shortly after rounding the cove on which Deba sits we embarked upon another corniche road with too many spectacular views to record in this blog

The road was quite busy but the Spanish drivers treated us with great respect and at Ondarroa we finally turned away from the sea and started climbing towards the Basque uplands. Shortly after 10am we arrived, as we had hoped, in Markina-Xemein. Coffee was beckoning! We had stayed dry throughout despite the threatening sky which was now displaying decided shades of azure blue.

We wanted our first stamp of the day for our pilgrim passports (we are expected to get two a day to verify our effort) and visited the Iglesia de Nuestra Senora del Carmen which was founded in the late 17th century, and had a classic exuberant, and very Spanish, baroque interior.

What was more surprising was the small side chapel, obviously used more regularly for daily services in a late 20th/early 21st century style! The madonna with child was particularly affecting in its simplicity.

By now the weather was surprisingly benign and so we committed to the next stage en route to today’s objective, Gernika. A modern stainless steel sculpture beside the road confirmed our suspicions; the route was about to become more serious!

The cycling, though hard, was everything we had hoped for and we were cheered to see our destination signed for the first time.

At the village of Bolibar the road took on a more serious character as we embarked upon the ascent of the col dividing us from the farmlands around Gernika. The almost empty road and the bucolic landscape made for idyllic cycling despite the 5km climb.

In what seemed a very short time we had reached the col and the sun was still shining.

The next photo is for the cycling enthusiasts (especially Dave who loves the data). That wonderful chamois cream had worked its magic and I arrived at the col still sat in my saddle!

The following descent was pure joy with endless gentle hairpins, and gradients such that one could maintain really good momentum without fear of flying off the road

We now felt that we were racing the weather as the air was filled with the sound of thunder with rain sheeting down on the hills behind Gernika.

At about 1 15pm we arrived at our hotel and about three minutes later the heavens opened. Perhaps pilgrimage isn’t always about penance, although we had done it with only about three minutes to spare!

Taking advice from our hotel receptionist we headed for the restaurant she claimed offered truly authentic Basque cuisine. At last I was able to enjoy calamari a la plancha. The photo is for Ginnie’s benefit. Strictly for pescatarians!

Finally, after disposing of our padded shorts and cycling paraphernalia we explored this small town with a global reputation. Picasso’s searing canvas is displayed in Madrid, but the town proudly displays a mural reproduction near its peace museum. It is arresting and haunting. The grieving mother’s scream sears to the core.

A visit to the Gernika Peace Museum is thought provoking. I knew of Gernika’s past, but the tale unfolded by the museum is sobering, and a lesson for us all. And yet, almost ninety years after the tragedy that is Gernika we are confronted by the obscenity of Ukraine and Gaza. Perhaps all we can do is take comfort from the recovery of this small and very proud Basque town which now invites visitors from all over the world to learn from its story and share in its Basque hospitality. Today it seems filled with joy and hope.

Gernika’s proud history stretches back many hundreds, even thousands, of years. And for centuries an oak tree in Gernika was the site where lords, and even kings, came to swear loyalty to the charter protecting Basque liberties. The tree was finally destroyed by the Nazi Luftwaffe in 1937, at the behest of Franco, during the Spanish Civil War. The stump is venerated by this stone monument, and beside it grows a semi-mature tree; a sapling growing from the acorns of its distinguished ancestor. Truly a symbol of hope.

Data: distance 47kms

ascent 800m