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.

Cantabria, Liendo and a Festival

So after leaving Castilla y Leon we re-entered Euskadi and then left it just as quickly again as the road sign announced that we were back in Cantabria. The green valley was picturesque without being dramatic and for a time we could have been in the Yorkshire Dales or the Lincolnshire Wolds until we drove through the town that was busy today with a cattle market and horse auction that was attracting lots of people in from the surrounding countryside. We didn’t stop but drove through the middle of all the excitement and after a while were back in Euskadi and then after another short while back in Cantabria where we followed directions to Ampuero and then once again to Laredo.

As we had already seen the seaside end of the town, and the weather wasn’t really suitable for the beach anyway, this time we parked at the other end of the town at the historical centre and walked in. We were looking for somewhere to eat and another of Marta’s recommendations and we followed the road from the Town Hall into the back of the town looking for the bar El Tunel. Marta’s directions were perfect and when we found it we agreed that this was a sitting indoors sort of day so squeezed past the pavement tables and went inside.

The bar was laid out with an assortment of pinchos and we made some choices as the staff tried hard to be helpful with explanations, all in Spanish of course, and it really didn’t matter really what they were because they all looked delicious; and so they were so we had a good selection and a couple of beers and thoroughly enjoyed our late lunch.

When we left the bar we were surprised to find that the sun was out, the clouds were gone and the temperature had more or less doubled. It was shirt sleeve weather now so we took the opportunity to explore the cobbled back streets of the town. Laredo old town was declared a Historic Site in 1970 and is the original town centre dating from the Middle Ages and it still preserves remains of its old original walls. It consists of a network of small streets and large stately houses from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries and at the highest part of the town the Gothic parish church of Santa María de la Asunción where there had been a wedding earlier but was firmly locked and closed now.

With the sun on full power we thought it would be nice to go back to the Posada and sit in the garden so we drove back, stopping at a petrol filling station on the way back to buy some beer and wine and after taking a detour to a disappointing viewing platform just outside the village arrived back in Liendo at about four o’clock.

It was delightful in the privacy of the private garden and we drank some wine, played some cards and chatted to a solo traveller from the Netherlands who had just arrived and we just simply enjoyed being in a tranquil environment surrounded by flowers, listening to bird songs and virtually watching the grass grow and a day that began requiring raincoats ended needing sunscreen.

As the sun dipped behind a tree we slipped into the shade we thought we might move the table back into the sun so we took one end each, lifted and selected a new spot and began to lower into position. We lowered and lowered and then lowered a bit more and when we were clearly closer to the ground than we really should be it eventually dawned on us that we only had the table top and not the table legs because the two parts were not attached so we had to return to the original position and hope that no one had seen our little moment of pantomime.

Later we returned to El Roble for a final dinner, choose badly off the menu and had a lamb meal we didn’t enjoy. The owner realised this and although it was our own fault insisted on only charging us half for the meal. We thought that was nice.

After dinner we returned to the village where the festival was in full swing and people in the square were listening and dancing to a group singing Spanish pop songs and we just had to join in. The local people seemed to like this and invited us to join them in their group dancing routines that seemed straight forward enough in a barn dance jigging sort of way and we spent half an hour or so being a part of the community of Liendo. It was a good finish to the day and as we returned to the hotel under clear skies we were optimistic about the next day.

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, Laredo

We found the Bar La Solana at the top of the village overlooking a panoramic view of an impossibly green valley and parked the car. I think they were surprised to see us because we were the only customers and the family owners were sitting around reading newspapers and watching the television and once again things didn’t look promising but we ordered some food from the small chalkboard menu on the wall and sat outside in what was now full sunshine and blue skies and watched the small lizards who were all no doubt pleased with the improvement in the weather. So pleased in fact that a couple of them were copulating under our very noses! When the food arrived we were delighted with a rustic lunch that included quite the best calamari we had ever tasted, better even that on the island of Ios where we have returned three years running just for the squid!

After a couple of San Miguels we strolled around and enjoyed the views, walked around the hill top church and monastery and then returned to the car and back to the coast where we were heading for the town of Laredo which, with a five kilometre sandy beach, is one of the most important seaside towns in Cantabria, which in the summer is a favourite destination for thousands of Spanish holidaymakers. But this was the last day of April so the atmosphere was laid back and relaxed and we parked the car without any difficulty directly on the sea front and walked over the dunes next to the road and down to the beach.

The clouds were gathering again now and the sky was transforming to chalky white as we walked across the hard sand avoiding the puddles of water down as close as we could get to the water’s edge. The bay was long and wide and we had it practically to ourselves but I expect it gets a whole lot busier and crowded in the summer. At one end was the old town and harbour and at the other were the rows and rows of holiday hotels, which to be honest didn’t look especially thrilling. We were right in the middle so didn’t walk to either end but after a while returned to the car and with the weather deteriorating again drove through the town without stopping and returned to Liendo, sitting at the bottom of its saucer shaped wide valley surrounded by hills, and the Posada La Torre de la Quintana.

We didn’t go straight back to the hotel but walked instead into the quiet village centre, through streets of white buildings with red tiled roofs, the village square, a couple of bars and a church. We were looking for another of Marta’s recommendations but this placed didn’t show any signs of life so we decided that tonight we would return to El Roble. The shops were closed for the siesta for the next half an hour or so, so we walked back and then after a few minutes I went back again to buy some more supplies of wine.

I really liked this place, mostly because it was so authentic and the shopping was a real experience. The shopkeeper knew even less English than I know Spanish but with the help of another customer, who also knew no English, he helped me make a selection of local wines. There were no prices on the bottles so I worried about the cost but I had no need to because when he cashed up they were only a couple of euro or so each . I really like trying to communicate with Spanish people especially when it is clear that we cannot understand each other but they carry on anyway with the conversation at great speed and when it is all over look at you as though you have understood every word. This is the time to nod appreciatively, say gracias and then adios and move on.

Later we sat in the garden and drank some wine, when it turned cool we went inside and played some pool and waited for Marta and Luz to leave but this evening there were some more guests coming from Madrid for tomorrow’s festival so tonight we would not have the place all to ourselves again. They arrived at about eight o’clock just as we were preparing to go out for dinner when we returned to El Roble and had a plate of Iberian Ham to share and a main course each of succulent cod prepared in two alternative styles.

There was no sign of the Spanish guests when we returned so with the hotel to ourselves we played some more pool and drank the excellent local rioja and when we finally ended the evening we reflected on an excellent and relaxing day and wondered what the weather would bring in the morning?

Cantabria, Collados del Asón Natural Park

In the morning it was disappointingly overcast and clouds were crawling over the mountains that surrounded the village and prospects didn’t look good so we had to arrange an appropriate itinerary to take account of the weather. It certainly wasn’t seaside weather so we decided to travel inland and see the countryside and after a substantial continental breakfast prepared by Luz, the housekeeper, we left Liendo and drove first west and then south into the hills.

The first part of the route took us past Laredo, Colindres and Ampuero and then to the busy little market town of Ramales de la Victoria where we left the main road that carried on to the to the city of Burgos and the burial place of El Cid and headed towards the Collados del Asón Natural Park.

It was slightly overcast but there was no rain and there was a moody ethereal mist over the emerald green pastures and fields which added to the rural ambiance. Once off the main road the driving experience required complete and undivided attention as we drove along twisting narrow roads, under mountains and into deep gorges, through forests of fresh broad leaved trees as we alternately dropped and then climbed along a twisting river valley. The tall mountains all wore lace bonnets made of swirling clouds as we followed the small roads through a succession of rustic villages where local people were working hard on the farms and weren’t expecting tourists. Twice we had to stop for cattle being driven along the roads as they took priority over cars on their way to and from the milking sheds and everywhere dairy cows with bulging udders were grazing on lush grass on the precarious slopes of the hills and mountains.

The road kept going west, twisting and turning all the way and following the river valley until it finally swung north and we started to climb once more towards the southern entrance of the Natural Park which was along a road with a vertical grey limestone mountain on the left and a sheer drop to the right which meant I had to pay special attention to driving duties. At the top there was a viewing platform to stop and admire the panorama from about twelve hundred metres high down a deep gorge with steep mountain slopes on either side, which was where we going next down the road that zigzagged along the eastern side of the valley.

First we had to negotiate our way past a herd of wild horses who were not minded to give priority to traffic which meant driving carefully around them and then we began the rapid descent to the bottom past the source of the Asón river, which begins here in what today, it has to be said, was a slightly disappointing waterfall and then flows for forty kilometres north through the town of Colindres, where it forms the Santoña estuary which is the most important Special Protection Area in the north of Spain.

All the way down the road stuck close to the vertical side of the mountain and as we avoided fallen rocks and stones at regular intervals I began to wonder if I had made a sensible decision when I rejected the insurance option on broken windscreens and glass but we found our way to the bottom without incident and we left the gorge and began to follow the river north towards Arredondo where we followed the road to Riba and then headed north again. Our intention was to return to Ampuero through the twisting valleys that meandered through the mountains but the combination of confusing road signs and an inadequate map conspired together to prevent this.

Driving in Spain wouldn’t be the same of course if we didn’t get lost a couple of times and we took a couple of unnecessary detours in our quest. Down narrow roads that simply stopped at small hamlets or single farms and once down a promising new road where the asphalt ran out after a few kilometres and we had to double all the way back. We had to admit defeat when we found ourselves almost back at the coast and had to repeat the first section of the route again to reach our destination.

So we drove south again and at Ampuero left the main road and headed for the tiny village of La Aparecida climbing again and getting closer to the Buzzards circling above and through spreading puddles of sunshine burning through the swirling mist vapours on one of those getting better all the time sort of days. We were looking for another of Marta’s recommendations because based on how good they had been so far we were again confident of her suggestion for lunch.

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.