Curiosity DriveFrance into Basque Country
Despite concerns about rising fuel costs thanks to Trump’s war on Iran, we decided to press on with plans to tour the Iberian Peninsula—while still feasible. This involved a relatively quick transit of France to reach the Basque Country where our tour would properly commence.
Coordinates
- Bilbao
- Donostia | San Sebastián
- Saint-Amand-Magnazeix
- Sainte-Marie-du-Lac-Nuisement
- La Teste-de-Buch
- Saint-Julien-en-Born
- Sare
- Zumaia
- Bakio
A transit of France
Rain, sleet and hail chased us out of Frankfurt, through the Saarland and over the border into the historical province of Lorraine (with Alsace, Champagne and a few smaller bits, the region of Grand Est since 2016). Our Day 1 pitch was by a marina and faux beach on Lac du Der-Chantecoa, France’s largest artificial reservoir, created to prevent flooding in Paris (📷1). On Day 2 we drove west then south through Centre-Val de Loire to Saint-Amand-Magnazeix in the region of Nouvelle-Aquitaine, where we shared our pitch with Lacerta bilineata | the Western green lizard (📷2). On Day 3 we made a slingshot around Bordeaux out to Dune du Pilat at La Teste-de-Buch on the Atlantic coast, near the entrance to Arcachon Bay. Said to be Europe’s tallest sand dune, it’s 102m tall and just shy of 3km long (📷3). On to pitch near Garet, where 7,50 € paid into a mailbox nailed to a tree secured a spot in a farmer’s field, in which we set up our shower tent—given an unexpected 25°C (📷4).
More views of the dunescape at Dune du Pilat follow. The sand forming this dune accumulated here over some 4,000 years. Picked up by wind and blown against inland obstacles, deposits carried by ocean currents along the Aquitaine coast are derived from rock originating in the Massif Central and Pyrenees that has been progressively reduced by wind, rain, frost and river journeys over the course of many thousands of years. Just so you can pant while climbing it, and yelp excitedly (even if only on the inside) as you descend it—much more rapidly, of course.
From the macro to the micro: jewels in the sand at Dune du Pilat. The dune is home to a variety of dull and not-so-dull bugs, some of which we identified. Pyrrhidium sanguineum | the Welsh oak longhorn beetle sounds as if it’s far from home, but is actually common in much of Europe, where it prefers a supply of oak (📷1). Native Hylobius abietis | the large pine weevil is considered a pest on pine plantations, as they damage seedlings (📷2). The unsightly destruction of forest adjacent to the dune is however the result of fires in 2022 (and subsequent felling), triggered by human activity. Native Coccinella septempunctata | the seven-spotted ladybird is readily identified by counting the three spots on each red elytron, with the seventh spanning both (📷3). Native Cicindela campestris | the green tiger beetle is widespread across Eurasia (📷4).
Northern Basque Country
Given good weather on Day 4 we detoured a short way inland within the Pyrénées-Atlantiques | Atlantic Pyrenees for some mountain landscapes and insights into northern Basque heritage. The Basque Country is a cultural region spanning the western Pyrenees along the Bay of Biscay, of which about 15–20% lies within France (the three historic provinces of Labourd, Lower Navarre and Soule). We pitched in the village of Sare—or Sara in Euskara, the Basque language (📷1). From there on foot we followed a 9km/ 3.5h “Tour de Sare” loop into the surrounding hills, noting some of the houses were fenced with upright stone slabs—a feature of Basque rural architecture (📷2). There was nothing left of the redoubt at the summit of Suhamendi, although we had views out to the Atlantic and across to peak of La Rhune at 860m elevation (📷3). We encountered Pottoks frequently; biologically Equus ferus caballus | the domestic horse, this is a genetically-distinct, pony-sized local breed adapted for mountain living and is considered one of Europe’s oldest surviving horse types (📷4).
On the morning of Day 5 (after obtaining Gâteau Basque | etxeko bixkotxa, a traditional pastry) we crossed the pass to Bera in Spain. Having avoided expensive French tolls, it was 1,350km from Frankfurt to the Spanish border.
Southern Basque Country
Basque Country
The Basque Country is a culturally distinct region with its own language (Euskara) and a long history of seeking autonomy from central governments. As noted above, 15–20% lies in France, while about 80–85% lies in Spain. The Spanish bit—southern Basque Country—includes the Basque Autonomous Community (Álava, Biscay, Gipuzkoa) and Navarre, which has a separate status. Tensions here grew during the 20th century, especially under Francisco Franco, whose dictatorship suppressed Basque identity and political expression. This repression contributed to the rise of the separatist group ETA, which used violence from the late 1950s aiming for independence, until it declared a ceasefire in 2011. While the region today has significant autonomy within Spain, debates over independence and historical grievances still shape its political landscape.
🧭 Exploring
Our first stop in southern Basque Country was to be Donostia | San Sebastián, but after a stressful tour of the city looking for open-air parking (we’re 3m tall) we gave up and left—without Basque cheesecake from La Viña. Westward to Zumaia, specifically Flysch de Zumaia, for a cliff formation of near vertical strata within the UNESCO Geoparkea Zumaia. These strata formed from sediment/ shells that spent 50 million years under the sea between Iberia and the European continent—until their collision uplifted the flysch layers (marl, limestone and sandstone). At the eastern end of the beach is the Paleocene–Eocene Boundary, where 56 million years ago a large release of greenhouse gases caused a 5–10°C temperature increase; the adjacent strata march down into the sea (📷1). Moving back in time, towards the middle of the beach are the Selandian–Thanetian Stratotype at 59.2 million years ago, when Earth’s magnetic poles flipped polarity, and the Danian–Selandian Stratotype at 61.6 million years ago, when sea level dropped ~80m; you can walk right up to these strata below San Telmo chapel (📷2). Ascend to the chapel and walk along the cliff (📷3); at the end of the rocky headland is the Cretaceous–Paleogene (K–Pg) Boundary, marked by a thin dark layer (📷4). This layer is rich in iridium, corresponding to the Chicxulub asteroid impact in the Yucatan 66 million years ago that wiped out ~75% of Earth’s biota—most famously the non-avian dinosaurs. The return route notes that every one of your steps equates to the passage of about 500,000 years in geologic time. That’s a small step for a human; a giant step for humankind (less than one step = modern humans; five steps = the span of our existence in the Homo genus).
Gaztelugatxe (near Bakio) is a rocky islet on the Atlantic coast of the southern Basque Country (📷1). We arrived early to the small top parking area, which rapidly filled; motorhomes aren’t allowed in the main area. Beware that entry tickets may be required at busy times (book online). The location is best known for its winding stone bridge (📷2) and staircase connecting the mainland to a hermitage perched on the rock. The medieval chapel, San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, dates back (in various forms) to at least the 10th C. and is dedicated to John the Baptist (📷3). Some visitors feel obliged to ring the chapel’s bell three times and make a wish. Some come to climb the 241 steps leading up to the chapel from the bridge, which served as the location of Dragonstone in the TV series Game of Thrones—although the chapel was of course digitally replaced with a faux castle (📷4). It’s a fairly steep 3km return to the top car park.
We visited Museo Guggenheim Bilbao | Guggenheim Bilbao Museum—which is a modern art gallery (it displays art), but is considered a museum because it also collects, preserves, studies, and contextualizes art as part of a broader cultural mission. We parked in Berango and took the train into Bilbao. As we approached the museum we encountered “Puppy”; this oversized dog-shaped artwork is covered in seasonal flowers (📷1). Continuing around the building to the riverside aspect lets you better appreciate its non-conformist architectural design by Frank Gehry (📷2). Riverside is also the location of “Maman”, a giant spider that looks as if it could have been a Wētā Workshop installation (📷3). The largest installation inside is called “The Matter of Time” and comprises eight massive, curved steel sculptures that create winding paths you can walk through (📷4). For some folk it “awakens a heightened awareness of one’s own body, of gravity, and of the surrounding space”, apparently. Once inside others will find only what they took in with them…
From Bilbao we would continue into northwestern Spain.
#2026 #basqueCountry #camperVan #europe #france #hiking #nature #nomad #roadTrip #spain #travel #unesco #vanLife
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