Day one: We left Portugal early… 6am… pulling over 40mins later to sleep for an hour at a truck stop… off to a great start.
After our premature nap we drove up to Porto, stopping in at a funny little taverna for lunch and a coffee. Another five hours or so of driving took us into Galicia, specifically to meet up with my glorious friend Victor for a get together surf session in Valdovino.
Burgers and beer for dinner and then on to drive to our camping spot for the night.
Day two: Got up after a mosquito bitten night in the most incredible location and heading into Avino (a nearby town) for breakfast which was utterly hilarious. We had hard churros and the weirdest omelette of my life.
Another billion hours driving ahead of us we made a cheeky surf stop in at Salinas where I caught some of the best waves of my life. The plan was to stay in the car but ended up heading into San Sebastian for the night.
Day three: Pintxos (pronounced: god knows how… pinchos?) in San Sebastian, Basque country…. OH MY GOD! the regrets… why did I not come here earlier? Heaven. Kaitlyn heaven. Every bar has this amazing arrays of food set out on the bar tops… i assume this is a thing that happens at most Spanish tapas bars but I was still so stoked. Oh and the local wine… its this weird semi-sparling super dry delicious white wine…you should definitely try it: Txakoli ( thank you Basque: pronounced chacoli).
Onwards to Biarritz, no surfing today but we had a sunset picnic sitting out on the the sea wall watching out over the Cote des Basque. After that, in the mood to party, we (looking like hobos) headed off down to where the main bar was… too broke and hideous to actually enter the bar, we instead sat out on a park bench and drank our giant warm SuperBock beer. Happily watching all the beautiful rich people enjoying their classy wine… and laughing at the prospect of putting our hats out to beg for money.
After stealing toilet paper from the public toilet we settled in for the night, parked in the car park at Cote de Basque.
Day four: Last night we were terrorised by some drunk English travellers… cautiously getting out of bed (they peed on our car), we had a hilarious breakfast of four day old yoghurt before heading out for a surf. The last for us as a team… terribly upsetting.
Leaving Bromie, really meant that my Portugal romp was truly over… I would be lying to say I wasn’t upset by this… we had a pretty epic run… however… I had other things ahead of me to take my mind off my sadness… namely my Spanich Death Cliffs.