Ezbersintasuna bizi

No, Apple predictive text has not gone into melt-down, that's Basque for Viva la difference! After failing to drown Maisy, we crossed the Cantabrian mountains, drove through the Basque region and camped at Zarautz, near San Sebastián. It was a day of many differences, not least of which involved crossing from a landscape which looked distinctly Spanish into one that resembled Snowdonia. In-between we briefly sped through Switzerland. The half day's chug between Burgos and the Basque coast was a great drive, so long as you discount my attempt to cross the Ebro by motorhome.

Mountain roads

...to the Basque country

It had been a long day and we were glad to install ourselves on one of Gran Camping's stunning terraced pitches, 400 feet above a broad bay, with the big Atlantic surf rolling in. The site itself is possibly the best we've used in terms of the quality of the facilities. When we looked at the receipt the full price and the ACSI card discount was listed. The €16 Euros we'd paid was almost half the full rate, we really could not afford travel long term in Europe without the card's off-season discount. If we do start next year's travels with a trip along Spain's northern coast, then I think we would use here again.

Bare trees, this is not the south!

The wild Basque coast..

As we get closer to the Easter break our fellow travellers become more diverse - students, young couples with and without kids, well to do forty somethings with big 4x4's and cruise ship sized caravans - not just we grey hairs. I like to be with young people, I spent all my working life among them, I miss their energy, optimism and occasional stupidity now I am not in work. As we left the camp site two Frauleins in a rusting clapped-out VW camper van that sounded like a tank struggled up the steep slope. I am amazed it got around the Stuttgart by-pass never mind to Northern Spain, but it did, and bon voyage to them. At least they are out on the road seeing the world as it is, not merely staring at it on-screen.

In no time at all we had reached the Spanish frontier, back to France, it was October 28th when we left it near Perpignan. Spain has been a revelation, it's a great country with welcoming people. We will miss it.

I doubt anyone has followed the blog since we started, but if you did you will recall that our first few days in France back in mid September were animated by a saga with France Orange about an unlocked SIM card for Gill's Moto phone. We feared a repeat performance as we headed for BAB2 shopping mall in Anglet. We've been to Biarritz a few times in the Summer when the kids were small. I remember the traffic was awful. You can't blame it on holiday traffic, it was as bad today, on a Tuesday in March. Of course refurbishment of the mall made parking a nightmare and yes, Gill was subjected to an oscar winning performance yet again from Orange France.

In Spain we walked into a store, they fitted a SIM and it worked, and you could top it up anywhere from a petrol station to a newspaper kiosk. Simplicity itself. In France, each Orange shop has a maître 'd who holds court at a stupid a lectern at the front door and 'directs' every customer to the appropriate 'expert'. If you are unfortunate enough to be an alien, then you are directed to the special needs department to be dealt with by the assistant who speaks English, even if you have, as Gill has, sufficient French to conduct the transaction perfectly. After the best part of half an hour the English assistant deigned to serve her, made a daft joke about charging €100 euros (10 euros for Orange, 90 for moi - hilarious mate!) then fitted the SIM. The idiot has put a 4G Sim into Gill's 3G phone, it does not work, I feel a Basil Fawlty moment coming on. Right now I am standing in front of Maisy beating her bonnet with a stick of celery. Why? Because tomorrow in Bordeaux, (we are in Bordeaux now) we are going to have to find an Orange shop and go through the whole f****** rigmarole again.

Ezbersintasuna bizi, as your average ETA operative might say....

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