Rest day in paradise

September 13, 2022

Today a much deserved rest day after a very heavy day of mountain hiking over the Jaizkibel mountain.

In the morning we found a cute little cafe with strong coffee and some types of bread, which is the normal breakfast here. Afterwards we walked and found the post office. We sent back 4 pounds of stuff. You quickly learn what things are truly essential when carrying them over mountains! Then, we looked to see that the San Sebastián cathedral is right across the street from the post office, so we we to over there to look for someone who could issue us a camino passport. These are the document that you carry with you along the way and get them stamped in hotels and various places you stop at. I found the door to the sacristy open and caught the eye of a nun who was walking by and she was very happy to take care of us. We had fun chatting about Catholic immigrants who have given new energy to the church in both Spain and the US. Right now there are many people arriving from the Ukraine.

Afterwards we packed up our things and left the sad little hotel, reaching so hard by calling itself hotel, when it was really an unattended room in an old walk up with no name on the outside and no evidence of being Hotel Olatu. At least it was clean and reasonably quiet. We lost no tears as we packed up headed out to the Concha, the shell shaped beach with an extensive 19th century promenade going for 2 km, and 200 meter wide beach. We walked west to get to the opposite side of town to be well positioned for our walk westward tomorrow. We treated ourselves with a little nicer hotel this night. It was a pleasant walk with many tourists and locals alike.

After successfully checking in with a completely automated system, we found our bright and comfortable room. We explored the local funicular that goes up onto the mountainside for great views of the city, and then stopped for lunch at Bar Pepe, which, despite being 1/3 the price of a chic little restaurant nearby, had fantastic food .

We keep running into Latin Americans were ever we go, in any lower paying job, just as in the US. Katherine, from Nicaragua, was making up our room. Beatriz, from Cuba, was posing for a photo when we walked by and repeated the pose for me. All of these invisible workers are happy to hear my Latin American accent and be recognized for where they originate. It’s an interesting connection that has followed us to Spain.