Basque Country, Biscay and San Sebastián

The journey speeded up now of course and we completed the final thirty kilometres of the journey in less than half an hour. As we approached the city I was struck by the fact that it was much bigger than I had been expecting and fairly soon it was much busier than I had imagined as well. As we followed signs to the centre we joined a queue of crawling traffic with snarling engines, red hot clutch plates and frustrated drivers and we made slow progress towards our destination. This seemed strange, we knew it was Mother’s day and this was making everywhere busier than normal but we couldn’t understand how this could have produced so much congestion.

As we nudged our way slowly through the obstructions the car parks all showed full signs and police were moving cars along and we circled the city centre twice looking for a parking spot. I was all for giving up and finding somewhere else to go and I was regretting the decision to drive east this morning when perhaps we should have stayed in Cantabria when we finally found an underground car park with a few remaining vacant spaces and after nearly three hours of driving finally stopped the car.

We were unsure of our position and we were ready for refreshment so we walked around the cathedral square looking for somewhere suitable but almost everywhere was crowded and boisterous and I began to detect a lot of Irish accents in the bars. Eventually we found a bar with some empty seats and went inside. The bar was a sea of red shirts and I had to jostle myself into position by pushing through the scarlet rugby tops. Now there were French voices alongside the Irish accents and the penny began to drop – somewhere there must be a sporting event and my enquiries revealed that not only was the place busy because of Mother’s Day this was also Rugby Football Heineken Cup semi-final day and Biarritz from France were taking on Munster from Ireland right here in San Sebastián. This was not turning out to be a very well planned day at all!
I still wasn’t quite sure why a Biarritz home fixture was being played in San Sebastián in Northern Spain but I learned later that Biarritz consider themselves to be the Rugby Union representatives of the wider Basque country so often play games in Spain especially for important fixtures when they need a bigger stadium than they have available in France.

It was quarter to three and the bar remained packed but having established that kick off was at three-fifteen we were confident that it would soon begin to clear out but at three o’clock it remained just as lively and at five past and at ten past and soon we began to realise that a lot of people hadn’t actually got tickets to the match itself at all and had just visited San Sebastián to be close to the event and the atmosphere.

After a drink we abandoned the noisy bar and the throng of scarlet shirts (both sides play in red!) and went outside to see the city. We made our way to the seafront through streets of tall well maintained buildings with balconies with iron railings and not a washing line or a satellite dish in sight because this is a wealthy resort town with the highest property values in Spain, which is especially popular with holidaymakers from France.

There weren’t many holidaymakers today because it was grey and cold with a sharp wind ripping in from the Atlantic and I really could have done with a hat and scarf. We walked along the beachfront boardwalk lined with stylish and expensive hotels, street art, gardens and fountains. The beach was deserted today but it was easy to imagine just how busy this golden crescent of sand might be during the summer because this is the busiest and the most popular of all seaside resorts on the north coast of Spain. It was too cold to loiter so we walked briskly across the beach and through the old town back to the car and then fearful of getting caught in traffic again at the end of the Rugby match left San Sebastián with the intention of finding somewhere to eat.

We had somewhere in mind but I took the wrong turn and went west instead of east and soon we were too far out of town to think about turning back so we carried on. Leaving the motorway we headed for the coast and drove through a couple of unremarkable places before we arrived at the charming town of Guetaria where, next to fishing trawlers in the harbour there were some promising looking restaurants. Sadly they had closed at three o’clock but there were some pinchos on the bar so we choose some of these and then to our surprise the sun put in its first appearance of the day and we were able to sit outside with a final cerveza before leaving and driving back to Bilbao and the airport.

The Basque Country, Guernica

It was a case of déjà vu this morning because just like the day before it was once again overcast and wet. We decided however to stick with our original plan and drive the Basque Country coast road and visit the up-market seaside resort of San Sebastián, or Donostia in the Basque language; so after our final breakfast and a last game of pool we checked out and said goodbye promising to recommend the hotel and one day to return and then headed east.

As yesterday we had to use the motorway and make the circumnavigation of Bilbao once again and the road took us through the industrial and manufacturing zones of the city. All of this industry means that the Basque Autonomous Community is currently the wealthiest region in Spain, with gross domestic product being 40% higher than that of the European Union and 33.8% higher than Spain’s average. Industrial activities here were traditionally centered on steel and shipbuilding, mainly due to the rich iron ore resources around the city and the Estuary of Bilbao was the center of the Basque Country’s industrial revolution during the nineteenth and the first half of the twentieth century.

From Bilbao we continued east until the motorway turned into a toll road so we left it and started to drive north towards the coast passing on the way through the town of Guernica. I thought it important to visit this ordinary looking town because this was the scene of one of the defining moments in history and I thought we should be able to say that we had been there. Today Guernica is an unremarkable and not particular attractive town and this is because on April 26th 1937 it was almost completely destroyed by Hitler’s Luftwaffe.

Guernica was bombed at the invitation of General Franco and the Nationalists during the Spanish Civil War because the Basque Country was a stronghold of the Republicans and because it was a symbol of Basque nationalism and the Basque people had generally aligned themselves to the Nationalists. It was of no real strategic military importance but Franco wanted to end the war in the north as quickly as possible and to do so he needed to take Bilbao and this act of aggression demonstrated his power. The raid was the first example of blanket bombing of civilian targets and it gave the Luftwaffe the opportunity to try out their new terror tactics which caused widespread destruction, two-thirds of the town was destroyed, and resulted in many civilian deaths. The bombing is the subject of a famous anti-war painting by Pablo Picasso and in 1999 the German Government formally apologised to the citizens of Guernica for the raid.
We didn’t stop in Guernica, to drive through was sufficient, and we carried on towards the coast and this seemed to take forever on a difficult road that ran parallel to the coastline but a few miles inland. This wouldn’t have mattered but the weather was poor and the scenery was disappointing compared to Cantabria. Finally we reached the coast fishing town of Lekeito, which is one of the most important on the Bay of Biscay and it would have been nice to stop and have a look around but it was absurdly busy and it was impossible to park. Today was Mother’s Day and for Basques an important day in the calendar when every son and daughter it seems takes their mother out to church and then to lunch and the streets and pavements were all busy and congested so we carried on. As we emerged from the town centre and followed the road around the bay we could see that it was an attractive town and it was a shame to miss it but we were certain there would be more ahead.

There were of course but these were all equally as busy so we had exactly the same problem in all of them and we had to drive through Ondarroa without stopping and then Deba. The scenery didn’t improve either because although we were now adjacent to the rocky coastline there was almost always a thick blanket of trees and shrubs separating the road from the cliff tops and the views and not only that the road was twisty and narrow so I had to pay careful attention which ruled out sight seeing anyway. At Deba we were weary of the tedious energy sapping drive so abandoned the coast road, rejoined the motorway, paid the toll fee and drove directly to San Sebastián.

Basque Country, Artziniega and Balmaseda

It was raining when we woke and this shouldn’t really have surprised us because this part of Northern Spain is one of the wettest places in Europe with an average one hundred and eighty-one days in a year when it rains. This compares with one hundred and fifty-two days in London and only sixty in Seville in the south of the peninsula.

Cantabria is part of Green Spain, the name given to the strip of land between the Bay of Biscay and the Cantabrian Mountains and it is so called because it has particularly lush vegetation, due to a wet and moderate oceanic climate that is strongly influenced by Atlantic weather systems that get trapped by the mountains and turn to rain. It is a place of complete contrast to the dustiest and driest parts of Spain in the arid South-East where most Northern European visitors head for the beaches and the sun-loungers of the concrete and tarmac strip.

While Northern Europe goes to the South, Northern Spain by contrast is a popular holiday choice with Spanish people living in the south and the central cities of the country because they like to holiday in the north to escape the oppressive heat and enjoy the famous seafood. In August alone, eight million Spaniards travel north from cities like Madrid and Valencia to the more temperate climate of Galicia, Asturias and Cantabria with its green scenery and spectacular beaches. The climate though is changeable and the region is often referred to in Spain as the wet or rainy region.

After breakfast we borrowed umbrellas from the hotel lobby and set off in the car and our intended destination this time was the Basque capital city of Vitoria-Gasteiz. We drove east along the Autovia and soon passed out of Cantabria and into Euskadi and as we did so the weather took a turn for the worst and it started to rain quite hard. The route took us back around the suburbs of Bilbao and through large matchstick high rise housing estates of the working class. The road dipped and weaved between the buildings and their individual accommodations each with a tiny balcony, some with flower pots, some dripping with colourful washing and all with satellite dishes and television aerials. It really wasn’t very attractive at all and we were pleased when the motorway split in two and we started to head south and away from the city.

What we weren’t pleased about however was the weather because as we headed into the mountains it continued to deteriorate and yesterday’s white lace bonnets were today grey skull caps and as it continued to rain the spray from the traffic made the journey difficult and miserable. In the rear view mirror we could see that it was brighter behind us and to the west so after a couple of junctions we abandoned the excursion to Vitoria-Gasteiz, left the motorway and began a much earlier than planned return journey.

We kept away from the motorway however and plotted a route that kept us inland and on the minor roads through the small villages and green fields of the Basque Country and as we drove west the weather improved and it stopped raining. We had no plans now so we just drove through the swirling mists of the clouds as they crawled over the sides of the hills and down into the valleys and then we reached the little town of Artziniega, which looked busy and interesting so we parked the car and went to investigate.

It was only a small town but with an interesting historical centre with narrow cobbled streets, grand villas (some abandoned), honey coloured stone buildings and an altogether different style to that in Cantabria. Whatever had been happening ten minutes previously and had encouraged us to stop however was clearly all over now because the town was languid and quiet and we met only a few people as we dawdled around the attractive streets stopping regularly to admire views of the surrounding countryside that was so green a leprechaun would surely feel at home.

We drove on and although it remained overcast the weather was still improving when we reached the larger town of Balmaseda and stopped again. There was nothing especially picturesque about the town which has a rather functional appearance but it seemed friendly enough and this being a weekend and a festival day as well (May 1st, Labour Day) the main square in front of the Town Hall and Church was full of people just wandering aimlessly from one conversation to another in that sociable, Saturday morning sort of way that Spanish people do.

After a drink in a traditional bar with a room full of excitable local people we left Balmaseda and continued our journey on a route that unexpectedly took us out of the Basque Country and for a few kilometres through neighbouring Castilla y Leon on our way towards the town of Valle de Villaverde. Due to a historical quirk Valle de Villaverde is a municipality with an interesting geographical arrangement because it is an exclave Cantabrian town that is surrounded by the Basque municipalities of Carranza, Arcentales and Trucíos. Basque nationalists want to incorporate Valle de Villaverde into the surrounding Basque province but Cantabria is not minded to cooperate and Basque nationalism is less strong in the west of the region and the residents of Valle de Villaverde are generally speaking happy to remain Cantabrian.

Cantabria, Castro Urdiales

Castro Urdiales is a busy resort in high summer but on a day in late April it was unhurried and relaxed with only a few visitors sauntering along the promenade. We had parked at the beach end of the town which meant there was quite a long walk to reach the harbour further to the west and this took us past the yacht club and elegant balconied sea front buildings all overlooking the wide sheltered harbour where a variety of boats were resting on the muddy sea bed at low tide.

We had been up for a long time and it was definitely time for lunch so we roamed along the pavement trying to select a bar that was serving what we were looking for and we were looking for pinchos, or pintxos in Basque. Pinchos are Northern Spain’s equivalent of the tapas, the main difference being that pinchos are usually larger and always ordered and paid for independently from the drinks. They are called pinchos because this is the Spanish word for spike and many of them are held together with a sharp wooden skewer. Another difference is that whilst tapas are served on a small dish, pinchos are generally arranged on bread slices and laid out on the bar was a mouth watering selection of tasty snacks and every one of them an attractive work of art. We made our selections and sat at a table on the pavement as the sun continued to strengthen its grip and the day was getting progressively warmer.

After lunch we continued our stroll to the handsome old town of Castro Urdiales where the Town Hall stands adjacent to the immaculate main square next to what was the original tiny harbour that was sheltering behind its protective stone walls. Around the harbour side women were working under parasols repairing fishing nets and past the fish market at the far end of the harbour a set of weathered stone steps took us up to castle which stands on an elevated rocky outcrop. We made the tour of the restored fortress and then walked around the outside of the impressive medieval parish church, the Iglesia de Santa Maria de la Asuncion, which had the external appearance of a much grander cathedral.

The tide was coming in now and as the harbour was beginning to fill with water the boats were lifted into life from the sea bed and all around them the large grey mullet swam around scavenging for scraps of food. It was hot now and there was an attractive bar next to the water’s edge so we sat for a while in the sun and had a beer and a plate of octopus salad, which although rather expensive tasted absolutely divine.

After this pleasant sojourn in the sun we retraced our steps back along the promenade and watched nervously as some heavy black clouds began to roll in from the land and we quickened our pace because we feared we might get wet. We returned to the car just in time because very quickly there were some big spots of rain on the windscreen and in the distance there was a big electrical storm over the mountains.

We needed some alcohol so before leaving the town we looked for a shop and we stopped at Eroski, which is a Basque supermarket chain with nearly a thousand outlets across Spain and is the second-largest retail distribution group in the country after the French company Carrefour. I immediately liked Eroski because it had a wide and varied selection of wine all reasonably priced so we purchased another corkscrew, which would have to be left behind of course at the end of the holiday, and some various bottles of local Rioja to enjoy later on.

Motoring west once more on the Autovia del Cantabria the rain stopped and the sun came out again and after a few kilometres we left the motorway for the village of Liendo to find our accommodation. As usual this wasn’t that easy and we made a couple of circuits of the sleepy streets and tried to understand directions given to us in impenetrable Spanish before we chanced upon it hiding behind a high stone wall and with only a very discreet sign to identify it.

We were staying at the small Posada La Torre de la Quintana, which was a converted stone mansion with an impressive façade and surrounded by carefully manicured gardens. And we were delighted with our choice of accommodation, which was rustic and authentic and we were lucky to have the best suite in the hotel complete with a glass fronted balcony. We sat in the late afternoon sun in the garden with a glass of wine or two and Marta, who ran the place, made some recommendations for sightseeing and for food. Actually we were the only guests in the place and when the staff went home at eight o’clock we were left all alone to rattle about the place as though it was our own personal property. The only problem was a power failure at just about dusk, which meant we had to call for assistance and a maintenance man had to turn out to attend to the fuse box.

Later we took Marta’s suggestion and stayed in the village to eat at a restaurant called El Roble, which didn’t look very promising from the outside but despite this, and a waitress who had forgotten to take her happy pill this morning, the food was excellent and reasonably priced and we instinctively knew that we would be returning again tomorrow. As we ate our meal the heavens opened and the rain poured down and we hoped that this didn’t mean the end of the fine weather.

Euskadi, The Basque Country

Soon after I booked the Easyjet flights to Bilbao in January I began to tell people that I would be travelling to Spain in April but by the time of the trip I had started to be more specific and was referring to it as Northern Spain and to be completely accurate the Basque Country. This was because the more research that I carried out ahead of the trip it was clear that I would not be visiting Spain at all because the Basque Country, although part of the Kingdom of Spain is something altogether different.

The Basque Country, or Euskadi in the Basque language, is part of the larger Basque region that also icludes Vavarre and stretches into northern France and is an Autonomous Community of northern Spain that was granted the status of historical region in the Spanish Constitution of 1978. The capital is Vitoria-Gasteiz (Vitoria is the name in Spanish, Gasteiz in Basque) and Bilbao is its largest city.

It was an early morning flight and I slept for most of the journey but woke up as the plane began to descend shortly before crossing the coast of the Bay of Biscay just east of Bilbao so I was in time to see the ribbon of golden sand and behind that the glorious green of the forests and the alpine like mountains rising dramatically out of the sea and concealing lakes and rivers in the valleys and criss-cross gorges of the interior.

In contrast to the grand scenery of the natural environment Bilbao airport was a stark modern structure, a sprawling bleached concrete welcome mat that was austere and unattractive. To be fair it was undergoing extensive refurbishment so perhaps we weren’t seeing it at its best but it was certainly somewhere to pass through quickly. It was a shame then that we had to stay longer than we would really have liked because the Sol-Mar car hire desk was a tedious slow moving disaster.

There was a long queue and only one clerk on duty and each customer seemed to take about fifteen minutes to sign up, which meant a thirty minute wait for us as we were third in line. The whole process was completely inefficient and nothing seemed to be prepared for dealing with what were after all, all pre booked customers. As the line of people behind became more irritable and impatient the tension began to rise and I was relieved when it was my turn to get to the desk but as I did so the clerk disappeared into the back office for a five-minute break.

When she returned it took her about ten more minutes to double the original website quotation through the inevitable addition of insurance, airport tax and the cost of a tank of fuel but this didn’t shock me because this is normal practice for all the car hire companies who all now seem to have adopted the Ryanair business model for surprising unsuspecting customers with a range of additional charges.

We were relieved to complete the process, get outside into the fresh air and then take temporary possession of a flame red Seat Ibiza and we pointed it in the direction of the city of Santander on the Autovia del Cantabria. It was a bit overcast but quite warm and soon we were driving in a wide motorway loop from east to west around the city of Bilbao which after Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia and Seville is the fifth largest in Spain. It is also one of the most industrialised and the road took us past large heavy manufacturing plants, engineering works and a huge power station that was belching out flames and fumes. Behind them the mountain sides had been deforested and carved away for mineral extraction to support the metallurgy industries that had been the original source of Bilbao’s prosperity but we were soon past this and the road began to follow the coast line, the scenery improved and it started to brighten up.

We were heading for the seaside town and fishing port of Castro Urdiales and after about thirty kilometres or so after we had past out of the Basque Country and into Cantabria we left the motorway and drove through the outskirts of the town and straight to the seafront and by the time we had parked the car and set off along the promenade the sun was beginning to poke through.