San Sebastian to Laredo
The worst day of our trip thus far began in a campsite above San Sebastian. Most campsites have a checkout time of midday, which previously hadn’t been a problem. But we were slightly slow in getting ready, and ended up rushing madly to pack everything up in time. On smaller sites there was some flexibility on the checkout time, though we’d never checked out late before. But this campsite was large and well-run, and we didn’t want to give them an excuse to over-charge us. I stood in line at Reception, my arms burning in the hot, dry sun, while Liam finished wrestling the tent into its pouch and packed up the rest of the pitch. We were both in bad moods, in need of coffee and breakfast, hot and tired, anxiously watching noon tick closer.
By the time I reached the front of the line, it was almost 12:20pm. But the receptionist didn’t say anything about checking out late, and it occurred to me that most of the other people waiting in line were also checking out. Suddenly all of the worrying and stress seemed pointless, and I felt silly for getting so worked up over nothing. One problem had been solved, but my mood had not improved.
We both agreed that some food and some caffeine would be beneficial, and not long after we joined the motorway we saw a sign for some services. We took the exit and kept an eye out for further signs, but as the road curved around and away from the motorway, all signs of a service station evaporated. Instead of a shiny air conditioned temple of roadside convenience, there was a small roundabout with four exits. None of them said anything about finding a cup of coffee. We went around the roundabout three times, craning down each of the roads for signs of a small garage or cafe. We even took one of the exits, but half a kilometre of straight black tarmac didn’t lead to any signs of life, so we looped back. 20 minutes wasted, we were back on our original motorway, no closer to breakfast than we had been when we were packing up our tent.
We did eventually find something to eat. I can’t remember where it was, or what we ate, but I wrote it down in my notebook so it must have felt incredibly satisfying.
The afternoon turned into something of an admin day. Not far from our intended campsite at Laredo, we stopped at a large hypermarket and picked up some new storage boxes. Our food supplies had begun cropping up all over the van, and there was always a mad scramble to find things like biscuits. Storage boxes would stop us (me) feeling like a tangled mess every time I wanted a snack. We emptied and re-packed a lot of our stuff, rearranging more important things like the electric hookup cable nearest the doors and relegating less frequently used things like our walking boots to the centre, underneath the fold-down bed.
One of our long-standing priorities had been to get some cooking gas for our stove. We had understood that we weren’t allowed to bring any gas through on the EuroTunnel Shuttle, but a British couple we met in Bourg had said that they bought theirs through no problem. At least we know for next time. We had tried and failed to find gas in France; an employee at a French supermarket had spoken very rapidly and loudly at us, and kept asking for our papers. We left in a haze of polite bewilderment. Things would be easier in Spain, we felt, because Liam can speak Spanish. And indeed they were.
That afternoon, we bought some gas at the shop at our campsite. We had been surviving on breakfasts of cereal with milk or yoghurt, which was always had to finish because we had no way of keeping it cool. We often ate out at lunch, and dinners were typically bread and some cheese, perhaps with humous or some crisps. But that night we cooked pasta with fresh veg, and made baked beans the next morning for breakfast. Even better, our cooking has improved since then.
Laredo is forest territory, and our beachside campsite was surrounded by tall green trees. The sea breeze was refreshing, and the air smelt of fresh pine and damp leaves. The beach wasn’t the cleanest; horse riding lessons and a strong tide had covered the sand in a mixture of seaweed and dung. But we weren’t put off, and went for an evening stroll as the sun came down. An enthusiastic puppy bounded over to say hello to us, so all in all a productive evening.
We knew that camping and travelling in the car would be a work in progress, and so those first few days were very different to how the rest of the trip has been. It’s hard to overestimate the difference buying gas and organising our car has made. No longer reliant on cafes and service stations for coffee and food, our schedule has become much more flexible. We can plan better, and pick up supplies when it suits us, because we have more space to store them. It turns out that camping is good fun when you’re well prepared. Now we just need an awning…
