As a scrawny surf kid there were only two posters on Duncan's bedroom wall. Both infamous lefts, Mundaka in Spain and Impossibles in Bali. Eager to surf Mundaka at all odds we drove there from Lafitenia and crossed our fingers for waves.
Mundaka itself is lovely with sleepy alleys, a quaint harbour to watch the surf from and a natural hilly green backdrop. It's classic bliss Basque vibe made us feel at home. The campsite near the river mouth was also the best one yet so we stayed a night.
The waves weren't big but the river mouth, which meets the incoming tide, was doing its thing and producing some mini barrels.
When the odd set wave did come there was still plenty of potential takers, and with a fragile lip a hustling shoulder hopper can easily spoil the party.
Sadly it wasn't bigger but at least it was worth experiencing the wave from the poster.
The next day we decided to do a long walk up and down some eroding cliff roads to a hermitage perched on a hill in nearby Bermeo. Bad idea in the mid day heat.
We melted in our minimal attire as crowds of Spanish tourists casually ambled up the steps in jeans, pft! Any rejoice for what we had seen and achieved was lost in our sweat drenched clothes and overwhelming heat exhaustion. To the sea at once!