Zegama (Cegama)

The first clue is the pavement. Ten minutes uphill from Zegama’s single traffic light the concrete ends and the trail begins, way-marked in the Basque red-white-green that tells you the town has finished and the massif has taken over. At 1,500 inhabitants the place is barely a comma in the Goierri valley, yet every May it becomes the loudest dot on the European trail-running map when the Zegama-Aizkorri Marathon storms through. The rest of the year it reverts to a working upland village whose front doors open onto sheep pasture and whose back gardens tilt straight into the limestone wall of the Aizkorri-Aratz Natural Park.

Why the Village is Famous for One Wet Morning

Outsiders who have heard of Zegama usually know only the race. The statistics feel modest—42 km, 2,700 m of climb, peaks just topping 1,500 m—but British runners who fly in call it “the Ben Nevis of fell races, only with better crowds.” Fog is routine, mud guaranteed. Spectators line the steepest ramps, singing and drumming, occasionally shoving competitors uphill when legs stall. The weekend triples the population; accommodation books out a year ahead and the municipal camp-site turns into a field of nylon. If you want that atmosphere, arrive the night before and expect bagpipes at dawn. If you want silence, pick any other weekend in May.

What the Mountains Actually Look Like When You Walk Them

Ignore the modest height on the map: the terrain gains 1,000 m in the first 8 km west of the church. Hayedos—Atlantic beech woods—cloak the northern gullies and stay moss-green even in July. Above the trees the ground breaks into karst pavement; every limestone slab is a drainage channel so the rock stays slick for 180 days a year. The ridge walk to San Adrián tunnel is the obvious half-day target: park at the Aizkorri Interpretation Centre (free), follow the red-white way-marks, and allow three hours return. Inside the tunnel a 16th-century chapel built for medieval travellers is still lit by candles; bring a torch because the floor is uneven and the roof drips. On a clear afternoon you can see the Bay of Biscay, 45 km north. On a misty one you will see your boots—carry a map and a GPS app because the cairns disappear in cloud faster than you expect.

Eating and Sleeping Without the Donostia Mark-Up

San Sebastián’s Michelin belt stops 30 km away, which keeps prices mortal. The only hotel, Ostatu, sits on a terrace above the old quarter: rooms are tidy, doubles €75 including breakfast. Evening set menu is €14—garlic soup, grilled chicken with proper chips, rice pudding—safe for fussy teenagers and substantial enough for tomorrow’s hill. The bar does the best tortilla pintxo in the valley (€2.50), and the landlord will pour you a cider from shoulder height even if you order cola. Vegans are catered for, a rarity this deep in cattle country; ask the night before because the chef shops daily. Sunday lunchtime everything shuts—book half-board or buy supplies on Saturday.

Getting Here, Getting Out

San Sebastián airport is 68 km north, Bilbao 90 min south-west. Car hire is simplest: the last bus from Donostia reaches Zegama at 20:00 and the first departure is 07:00, so public transport strands you overnight. If you insist on the train, ride to Zumárraga or Beasain and budget €20 for a taxi up the side road. In winter the AP-1 can close in heavy snow; carry chains after December. Summer brings the opposite problem—the trailhead car park fills by 10:00 on fair weekends, so walk from the village and add 45 min each way.

When to Come, When to Stay Away

April–June and September–October give the best compromise: green pastures, beech woods in fresh leaf or copper light, and temperatures that hover around 15 °C on the ridge. Spring adds calves in the meadows and the smell of wild thyme on the lower slopes; it also adds mud. Autumn is drier but the days shrink fast—sunset is 18:30 in mid-October, so start early. August is hot in the valley (30 °C) yet still cool enough on the crest for a windproof. December to March brings snow above 1,000 m; the road to the Interpretation Centre is sometimes closed, turning a simple ridge walk into an alpine day. Check the forecast the evening before: Basque weather apps update hourly and the mountain has its own micro-climate. If the wind is forecast above 50 km/h or cloud base below 600 m, choose a low-level loop along the Oria river instead—flat, tarmacked, and you’ll still see eagles overhead.

A Honest Verdict

Zegama does not seduce with pretty arcades or Michelin stars. The village core is a ten-minute stroll, the church is pleasant rather than memorable, and the only museum is the mountains themselves. Come prepared to walk—or run—and the place makes immediate sense: every lane ends in a trail, every bar serves calories for the uphill, and every bedroom window frames the Aizkorri ridge like a weather chart. Arrive without boots and you will be looking at your watch by lunchtime. Pack a waterproof, a sandwich and a sense of gradient and you can stay for days, moving through beech woods, limestone crests and shepherd huts where cheese is sold on the honour system. The village keeps its back turned to the motorway and its face to the massif; decide which direction you want to look and plan accordingly.