This was on my bucket list of places to visit ,Spain’s version of Cannes. Very swanky,very rich and very beautiful. It’s separated by a few massive Pyrennean mountains from the French border and it was only a few hilly miles from where I woke up on Friday morning.

Keen to slip away before the Belgian girl guides I was on the road quite early. So early that my tent was packed away damp but needs must

So today was 8 miles . Pah! Less than my commute to work, easy peasy lemon squeezy. It hadn’t been planned to be such a short day, distance wise ,but I’d had to do some “dynamic recalibrating “ ( ie “get real”) and adjust some of my daily targets and make sure I was in the right place for onward itineraries .

This is a beautiful part of the world. But lumpy. Very lumpy indeed. In fact I heard this region won the 2020 International Lumpiness Championships in the “Long and Steep as a Bastard” category. It’s true .

So I climbed 1000 feet in 8 miles which is easier to type than ride ,but it sure felt hard to me . When I wasn’t looking down at my front wheel the views were of course stunning,again.

Again I was reminded of Devon as I realised I was higher than the clouds and it was bloody freezing,but once I’d summitted ( that seems too triumphant a verb to describe the last weaving wobbly lunge for the top of the five mile climb) the sea below was immense and the views massive .

The last mile though was a freewheel down to Camping Igueldo. This is the nearest campsite to San Seb (as I jauntily now call it) with a regular bus down into the town.

It was indeed lovely and well worth a visit. If you were to drive from the ferry at Bilbao it’s less than an hour. There’s a fully functioning promenade with the surf crowd to the handbag dog crowd and everything in between happily co-existing, as do the superyachts and fishing boats off shore .

It’s a relaxed place thats obviously dripping with cash, but not in an ostentatious way and the two town beaches,with sandcastles and dogs are a nice counterpoint to some of the early evening preeners on the prom. In short , it’s got something for everyone and didn’t feel one bit snotty. The sunset was rather special too.

I also saw a silent demonstration while I was there-led sympathetically by the police ,a group of people holding pictures of what looked like political prisoners or silenced dissidents. A reminder of the separateness of this region and it’s fierce independence.

I also saw some kind of period drama being filmed on the iconic Maria Cristina bridge ,originally built to provide access to the Bullring. Traffic was stopped for filming, I did ask if the script demanded a cameo from a middle aged geezer in North Face kit and a twat tan but apparently not .

Anyway,tomorrow is a longer day. Riding to Pamplona I’m beginning the journey inland away from the coast,and starting towards Barcelona. Ultimately I need to be on the overnight ferry from Barcelona to Sardinia on Friday 9th September so I’m trying to break the trip into reasonable stages bearing in mind accommodation options, legs ,etc etc!