Monday's Washing Day, If You Can Find A Machine.

LEKEITIO.

Concerned that charges might start at 9 am, we leave site just before in search of a washing machine near the port. Unknowingly we pass it, then can't park when we finally do. Decide to head for San Sebastian. The streets are narrow and drivers make them even narrower by parking two abreast. It wasn't much fun creeping past lorries and cars showing hazard lights and the drivers nowhere to be seen. Twice, I approached the street only to find it was pedestrianised. So, we gave up a second time.

We moved on to find LPG. We had more success with this. The station was manned and he was very helpful. I was in the process of removing the bottle from the van when his manager came over to tell me to leave it in the van. The assistant struggled to fill it until I remembered to open the bottle. The station even had an area for washing pets, not clothes though.

Then struggled to find the road out of San Sebastian. Twice I joined a motorway. The second time I stayed on it for 5 miles at a cost of Euro 1.76. It makes me wonder if it is worth employing someone to collect it.

We encounter an upturned car on the winding roads. It can't have happened too long before we arrived, We'd been passed by a speeding ambulance.

Find our town without further problem. However, finding the site is more problematical. I end up on very narrow streets with rubber cones preventing me using the pavement. A very helpful guy stands on one to help me pass.

Finally, we arrive and can breathe. A cup of tea and lunch and the world seems easier. We walk into town only to find Tourist Information is closed on Mondays. The harbour is very pretty, though.

On the way back to the van we pass a laundrette. Rush back to the van and collect the washing. Celebrate with a beer whilst we wait.

There is a fabulous garden next to the site which is open to the public. There is an aviary with bird's of such stunning colours that it takes our breath away. However, it's also very sad to see them couped up in such a small space.

We return to the harbour for a glass of wine. We pass the end of a funeral at the local church. A large crowd is congregated outside. They head for the bars and, although it seems a strange thing to say, there is a happy atmosphere around.

We're in the Basque region. Signs proclaim that they are neither Spanish nor French. Certainly, the language sounds very different. And, the road signs use the letters X,K, & Z more reminiscent of Greece. The barman is from Paraguay just to through another country into the mix.