Camping Igara provides a 9-seat shuttle bus down onto the edge of San Sebastién and back, at appointed times. We piled in to the shuttle at 10:00, with a few of our more energetic travellers choosing to walk down.
We had about a 45-minute walk from where we were dropped off to the more interesting area of San Sebastién, namely the harbour and, a little beyond that, the old town. Beside the promenade was a modestly sized statue of Don Quixote. This was a competition prototype of the larger statue in Madrid. Francine zoomed in on some detail.
The harbour area was absolutely heaving. The population of San Sebastién had grown allegedly by 100,000 because there was an event on in the harbour. It’s called Bandera de la Concha and, to me, resembled Cornish pilot gig racing except these boats have crews of 13. The rowing teams had all brought their respective fans and support groups with them, hence the population explosion. With the crowds and the noise this was not really my natural habitat, interesting though it was.
Having gawped at the rowing for a while our leader was keen to get a table for a lunch of pinchos as early as possible, which proved to be 12:00, when one suitable place opened up. Close to 13:00 the Spanish would all descend on the restaurants and there’d be no tables free, especially given the increased population. We sat at a table to get served with drinks before heading to the counter and selecting some of the restaurants excellent tapas.
After my main event of the day, lunch, there was a bit more wandering about involving window shopping for some, before Francine and I decided to walk the 45 minutes back to wait for our 15:00 return shuttle bus. Others chose to avoid the walk and used one of the city buses.
Francine and I found a bar just near the pick-up point and settled down to wait with a drink or two. Eventually other folks turned up who looked as if they, too, were waiting for the shuttle bus. Then another few of our group, including leader Andy, also turned up. By the time the shuttle arrived were were two too many. A few couples doubled up with ladies perched on laps, probably entirely illegally.
A common problem with such arrangements is that folks drift into town on various buses but then all want to return on the same bus. We’d had exactly the same issue visiting Cordoba and its mosque last year, the last return bus being heavily subscribed.
Francine’s phone reckoned we’d clocked up about 17,000 steps.
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