we took the main road out of Hondarribia and over Monte Jaizkebel. Being Sunday the traffic wasn’t too horrendous, and the steady gradient of the highway made the long climb more manageable. Even so Kez was less than ecstatic about reaching her first proper mountain pass, demanding breathlessly that it should definitely be the last. The long descent did nothing to cheer her as we coasted at fair speed down the dual carriageway taking heart from the fact that other cyclists were taking the same route, but still a bit unnerved at having to negotiate sliproads with traffic joining from the right. Things got worse when getting confused by the signs, lane changes and flyovers we coasted merrily through a tunnel and found ourselves at the start of a motorway with no obvious way to get off. The crash barriers were too high to lift the loaded bikes over so there was nothing for it but to remove all the panniers, roll them underneath, throw the bikes over the top then squeeze through ourselves, and down the spikey slippy verge beyond. The place was a maze of new roads and roadworks that left the GPS totally confused, but the mild peril of finding ourselves on a motorway seemed to cheer Kez up a bit as I took us back and forth on a cycleway trying to find our way down into the streets of Donostia-San Sabastian. Eventually we made it through the industrial outskirts and towerblocked suburbs finding ourselves in the smart bay area and stopped on the busy promenade to gaze at the beautiful bay. Kez had had enough of the traffic and hubbub though and the realisation that camp site was near the top of Mount Igueldo didn’t really sink in until we’d heaved and pushed our bikes upwards for three miles, albeit with wonderful views of the dramatic rocky coast and sparkling blue ocean that heaved and foamed around inaccessible boulder strewn beaches hundreds of feet below us. Drinks and tapas in the camp site bar were well deserved after a tough day. A short one tomorrow, hopefully all downhill.