Bibao to Pobena: 22 miles
Stepping off a flight to a foreign land can be very disorientating. Especially when you have no one to meet you, no bus taking you to a posh hotel and not a great grasp of the language. But that’s all part of the adventure. Even the little things like traffic travelling the wrong way takes a bit of getting used to, fortunately a couple of near misses later and my (nearly squished) brain got that sorted out.
I knew that Day 1 wasn’t going to be the prettiest of days. Bilbao is a port and my first trek from the airport took me through the old industrial docklands.
Day 1 was supposed to be 15 miles, but last year’s trip taught me that google maps often lies. 22 miles later, in 30 ° heat, and I finally found the hostel I was looking for.
I struggled to stay in many hostels last year, they really aren’t for everyone. Even though they cost as little as £3 a night. My particular bed for the night was in the female dorm (only one left due to my late arrival)
This may, hopefully, be the only point in my life where I spend a night sleeping with a group of what seemed to mostly consist of French lesbians (unconfirmed) who could snore and fart in their sleep better than any guy I know.