Bask in the delights of Biscay Bay for a big family break

We have our fill of pincho morunos — hunks of hake, paprika-dusted chorizo chunks, charred stuffed peppers, crispy croquettes, salty anchovies, all spiked with toothpicks onto baguette circles — and now we’re ready for drinks.

The bar is busy. I’m not getting any eye contact no matter how much I wiggle my eyebrows and grin idiotically. 

When the bartender comes, I try: “ Dos cervezas and eh, gimme three of your best colas ... mesedez.” (Basque for please, instead of the por favor carry on.)

The bartender takes a beat, wiggles his eyebrows back and says, “You’re not English?”. 

When he learns we’re Irish, he bumps my fist and says “our brothers”, and I’m not kept waiting at the bar any more that evening.

It’s not just the history of fighting for independence that we have in common. 

We find the Basque Country a multifaceted holidaying experience, with a vibe of hospitality mixed with a pride in owning their identity. 

They know they are fabulous, but they don’t mind sharing. As Corkonians, we can relate.

Bordering the Bay of Biscay and France, the Basque region is ideal for an active family holiday. 

The five of us have a wishlist that includes watersports, cycling, beach bumming, and wine supping, and we’re open to a bit of fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants craic too. 

With a diverse landscape offering coast, mountains, and, crucially, Rioja Alavesa vineyards, we feel the Basque Country could tick all our boxes. 

We’re booked into a campsite outside San Sebastian, and thanks to travelling by ferry from Rosslare to Bilbao in our van, we don’t have to worry about hiring boards or bikes, balls or hurleys — or running out of Barry’s Tea (we’re open to adventure, but we’re not animals).

We’re camping on the outskirts of Donostia/San Sebastián but parking anywhere near the town is near impossible. 

Word to the wise — walk, skip, cycle, scoot, use public transport, hire a hot air balloon, but I don’t recommend anything with four wheels. 

We cycle in, taking our time along the promenade. There are proper bike lanes everywhere, and it’s safe and easy to make our way along as far as La Concha beach. 

We park up to throw the frisbee, clash the ash, try some skim boarding (one of us does more watching than skimming) and then we stroll to the Old Town for tapas and bubble tea.

This is immediately followed by us cantering down the cobbles for crepes and coffee to purge the bubble tea from our palates and souls. Avoid any type of franchise and stick to the many marvellous tiny bars for authentic cuisine, we learn the hard way.

The next day, we get a tip to visit the Mater Ecoactive Museum, a traditional tuna fishing boat. 

Fittingly, it starts raining as we board, but our guide is ready with macs for us all. 

The boys love it, the suckers don’t even realise they’re learning. 

We get an insight into marine life and ecology, it’s an immersive experience, using fishing rods, checking out the sleeping quarters, and finishing off with the best tuna sandwich we ever had.

On the pier, we look across at a picturesque fishing village. 

A local lady hears us wondering if we should go over and says, “Victor Hugo lived there for a summer, he wrote a book over there”. That’s good enough for me.

We hop on a little boat that ferries us across to Pasajes San Joan for the princely sum of €1.10 each way and spend a gorgeous hour exploring the nooks and crannies. 

I buy earrings in a craft shop, sup an espresso and the boys play soccer with a local lad. 

The timing of our return ferry happily coincides with the louts nearly taking out a church window. What would Victor Hugo think?

Feeling the need to crank up our cuisine experience but still find somewhere to keep the boys halfway entertained, the next day we drive through winding hills to check out the Petritegi Cider House for lunch. 

We join a guided tour around the orchards and apple stores. Did knowing how it was made make the copious amounts of ‘ Txiri’( barrel cider) taste better? Si, si. 

The adults are given an empty glass and told to help ourselves. Once a tap on one of the giant barrels is open, you join the queue to stick your receptacle in the stream. 

There’s apple juice for the kids although I did have to yoink the 11-year-old out of the cider queue more than once. 

Lunch was divine, a real farm-to-fork experience, with traditional menu including salt cod omelettes, enormous T-bone steaks, with Idiazabal cheese, quince jelly, walnuts (along with the nutcracker), “ teja and cigarrillo” biscuits and perhaps a squidge more txiri straight from the barrel into mammy’s gob. 

Another pro of having the van with us, we make good use of the gift shop and stock up on the organic apple cider to last the rest of the trip.

You'll never be bored in this part of the world. 

There’s no arguments about screen time, just about who has to sit in the middle seat, but it’s a break from home, not from each other, so I ignore the bickering and find more inventive ways to tire them out. 

We head to Lekeitio, about an hour’s drive from San Sebastian, and visit the Mendexa Abentura Park. 

With a fairly debilitating fear of heights, I plan to sit this one out, but buoyed (mocked mercilessly) by my boys, I decide to put on my big girl pants along with a sturdy harness and try ziplining for the very first time. What a buzz! 

I survive two courses capering about in the canopy before I call it a day. The males of the family stay for hours, like four treetop Tarzans, tuckered out by dinner time. 

Lekeitio is a gem of a find, the beach ideal for surfing, snorkeling, swimming, with top-class cafes, ice cream kiosks and restaurants.

A stone path snakes out to a craggy island but only reveals itself at low tide, so it looks like the people are walking on water. 

And like our entire stay, it’s a little bit of magic, a surprise just under the surface. If you’re patient and go with the flow of this land, it will reveal itself, and make you understand you’re in a special place.

• Esther’s family were guests of Brittany Ferries and Basquetour.

Ferry fabulous

The ferry is a fantastic way to travel as a family. Brittany Ferries' new cruise ferry, the Salamanca is a themed travel experience with local Spanish cuisine served up. 

Being able to go in our van was a bonus. No luggage restrictions, no airport hassles, and it's a very chill way to travel with kids. 

If you consider your pooch part of the family, it’s got 22 pet-friendly cabins. It's the fanciest ferry I've ever been on. 

You’re greeted with complimentary drinks, the cabins are fabulously comfy and stocked with premium toiletries, teas and coffees, and the TV is loaded with movies. 

There’s bingo, whale watching, deck-cercise, exercise machines, and excellent restaurants and entertainment for the smallies. 

The Salamanca is the first LNG-powered ferry to serve Ireland and promises lower emissions and a smoother, quieter voyage for travellers. We all had great nights’ sleeps aboard.

When to go

We visited in August, and got great weather, plenty of beach days and the buzz that comes with peak season. 

If guaranteed sunshine isn't a priority (you can expect the October climate to be perfectly decent with highs of around 20 degrees, and lows of 13), the tourist crowds (and prices) have thinned come September. Autumn in the Basque Country is stunning, with the lush landscape putting on a show with autumnal hues.

The Salamanca is the only ferry service connecting Ireland to Spain. She sails from Rosslare to Bilbao twice weekly departing Wednesday and Friday mornings. 

Typical crossing is 31.5 hours. Fares from €249* car + 2 people one-way. 4-berth cabins from €133, brittany-ferries.ie.

• For more information on things to do in the Basque Country, visit tourism.euskadi.eus/family-tourism/