I leave the comfort of the ferry and have to pretend to be a car to clear the port. Bilbao is 12 miles inland and it’s a grim walk through a depressed industrial landscape. The good news is that I’m passing pilgrims walking the northern coastal route to Santiago who all greet me like an old friend with much hand shaking, hugging and waving of staffs. I’m tempted to turn around and join them but I have several more days heading in the wrong direction.
Bilbao is a lovely old town. Currently watching Man City v Real Madrid in a bar, these locals don’t seem to like either side.