Irun

The 08:15 train from Irun to San Sebastián carries a peculiar mix: Spanish office workers scrolling through WhatsApp, French teenagers clutching skateboards, and British couples who've just discovered their hotel coffee costs half what it did in Biarritz. This is Irun's daily choreography—Europe's border traffic set to the rhythm of the Bidasoa River, where Spain's eastern edge learns to speak French with a Basque accent.

Border Town, Not Borderline

Irun isn't pretending to be pretty. With 63,000 residents and a main road that funnels lorries towards the A63, it's a working town where functionality trumps postcard appeal. The architecture speaks of 1960s confidence—concrete blocks and wide boulevards that feel more Lille than Seville. Yet this practicality serves travellers well. Underground car parks actually have spaces (€1.80 per hour), the tourist office staff know train timetables by heart, and nobody bats an eyelid at muddy walking boots in supermarket queues.

The Romans spotted the strategic value first. Their port of Oiasso sat here, shipping silver and iron from the Cantabrian mines. The Museo Romano Oiasso tells the story with refreshing clarity—no dusty cases of anonymous pottery here. Instead, you'll find a reconstructed Roman boat,解释tion of how they navigated the tidal Bidasoa, and evidence of wine imports from southern Spain. British visitors note the lack of English labels (Spanish, Basque and French only), but the artefacts speak a universal language of commerce and empire-building.

Between Marsh and Mountain

Ten minutes south of the town centre, the Parque Ecológico de Plaiaundi rewrites Irun's industrial narrative. What was once refuse tip and salt works is now 32 hectares of recovered wetlands where spoonbills stalk the mudflats and kingfishers flash between the reeds. Three hides offer shelter for birdwatchers—bring binoculars if you've got them, but even without, the boardwalk's 2km circuit provides a masterclass in ecological restoration. The wind can be brutal; on blustery days, the reeds bend like green water and even the ducks look relieved to reach sheltered channels.

For height and perspective, Monte San Marcial rises 250 metres above the urban grid. The walk from the Ermita de Santa Elena takes 45 minutes through oak and chestnut woods, emerging onto a summit where the whole border geography snaps into focus. To the north, Hendaye's marina glints beneath the Pyrenean foothills; south-west, the Camino del Norte traces the coastal ridge towards San Sebastián. The chapel here commemorates a 12th-century victory over Navarrese forces—Basque history written in stone and landscape.

What Passes Through

Irun's restaurants understand transient clientele. Bar Restaurante Mariño, five minutes from the station, serves pintxos that wouldn't look out of place in San Sebastián's old town—think miniature towers of crab and avocado on sourdough, or foie gras with apple compote. The staff speak enough English to explain that 'txangurro' is spider crab, not some exotic fish. For something heartier, Sidrería Ola in the industrial quarter offers the full cider-house experience: charcoal-grilled steak the size of a small plate, unlimited fries, and cider poured from height into wide glasses—more theatre than necessity, but the kids love it.

The town's culinary secret is 'opilla', an almond pastry that's less cloying than most Spanish sweets. Local bakeries sell them alongside croissants—a nod to cross-border influences that sums up Irun's hybrid identity.

Practical Realities

The train station forms the town's informal hub. Services to San Sebastián run every thirty minutes, journey time twenty-two minutes, last return 22:30. Day-trippers should note: San Sebastián's old town gets booked solid in summer; if accommodation's full there, Irun offers a practical base with easy rail access. Parking's simpler too—underground garages near the river charge €15-18 per day, streets are pay-and-display until 20:00.

For Camino walkers, Irun marks the official start of the Camino del Norte. The first stage to San Sebastián—24km crossing the Jaizkibel massif—provides arguably the route's best coastal views. Many break this in Pasajes de San Juan after 16km; the harbour village offers pensiones and seafood restaurants that make Irun feel positively metropolitan.

Weather demands respect. The Cantabrian coast specialises in sudden transitions—sunshine can flip to horizontal rain within an hour. Even summer evenings turn cool when Atlantic clouds roll in. Pack layers and something waterproof, especially for Plaiaundi or hill walks.

The Honest Verdict

Irun won't feature on glossy Spain brochures. Its beach is industrial sand at the river mouth, the old quarter is more 'pleasant stroll' than 'historic marvel', and traffic noise reminds you this is a border crossing, not a retreat. Yet for travellers needing practicality with personality, it delivers. Use it as intended—a gateway that offers Roman history, wetland birds, hill walks and first-rate pintxos—rather than expecting Andalusian charm in the Basque Country.

Come for the logistics, stay for the wetlands, leave with a sense of how borders shape places. Just remember your passport if you're tempted across the river for dinner—French police do spot checks, and "but I'm staying in Spain" cuts no ice at midnight.