Legends of Mount Ernio
It was in San Sebastián where I heard for the first time of Mount Ernio. A friend, born in Asteasu, one of the small towns, that hang like a pearl necklace from the great mountain, told me about the beauty of the region and spoke of legends lead by beings with extraordinary powers.
I don’t know if it was due to the stories or of the love with which she spoke of her land, but the truth is that I couldn’t’ resist the charm of this half hidden place from the world that I hadn’t discovered yet.
On my next trip to San Sebastián (and due to the few kilometers separating the city from the region of Ernio) I had inevitably written it down in my plans. From Orio, the road GI-2631 runs between big trees with climbing plants. The grass grows in unlikely places; the moss invades the wood fences, giving the stones a velvety patina.
The sea’s humidity can be found in everything, and it intensifies the colors: green valleys, red fallen leaves, whitewashed towns, brown church towers, dark earth, and yellow hay in the barns. On the landscape you could see the sheep grazing, dotting with white the whole scenery.
The path goes up the soft hills, between dark pine forests. Sometimes it borders farmhouses with roofs held by thick straps of wood, with blocks of stone in the windows and doors. In all of them the same images repeat themselves: bales, haystacks, tractors, orchards, piles of wood.
In a curve I saw from afar the town of Aia, and when I went in to stroll along its steep streets, I realized that I still had a clear and brilliant view of the sea.
In the lands of Aia grows the vine used to make Txakoli, that wonderful young wine, white and slightly carbonated. You can obviously find many bottles to choose from in the few stores of the town. The road took me to Andazarrate, and from there I took the way to Iturriotz, the village chosen by mountain climbers and pilgrims as a starting point when they go up to the cross of the Ernio.
The next town is the charming Asteasu. From there I went up to Larraul, only to contemplate the view of the valley from above. A few kilometers after, I took the road to Alkiza, which advances towards the foothills of Mount Ernio. The way is of utmost beauty. It is less populated, narrower, more solitary, sometimes accompanied by a crystalline stream. I moved forward feeling that, at any moment, I would encounter an elf between the trees.
The next village is Hernialde, a small and peaceful farm town located high in the foot of Mount Ernio, with marvelous views of the Valley of Oria River. After crossing the medieval village of Tolosa, I took the GI-37144 that goes from Albitzur and Bidegoian, following the route that borders the Ernio on its other slope.
Further down, the road goes up Mount Iturburu, where the spectacular views of the town of Errezil and Mount Ernio made me stop to contemplate, in ecstasy, the incredible landscape. In Artzailuz, as I wandered off course towards the miniature village of Etumeta a new adventure began: driving through a narrow road (for one car only) that seemed as if it would never end. The road is quite impressive.
When I reached the top I lowered my window, took a deep breath and listened: it smelled like pine and nature, I could hear cowbells and the howling of the wind at sunset. I later went down to the villages of Aizarna and Aizanazábal. I could still see red spots of red sun shining in the north, where the sea is. I left behind the Ernio and the mounts that surround it, covered in a thick white mist. I could see that the moon wouldn’t go out, only dark night.
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