Day 18: A hot end of day climb

We awoke at 5 a.m., the sky still cloaked in darkness, knowing this would be the longest day of our journey on the Camino Del Norte. It was only about one and half a miles longer than the previous day's milege, but that small difference seemed daunting as we prepared ourselves. We moved slowly, savoring the quiet moments before the day began in earnest.

Our first steps took us along the quayside of Ribadesella, the town still in slumber, save for the gentle lapping of water against the docks. The charming facades of the town soon gave way to the industrial atmosphere of dock warehouses, a less glamorous part of the town. Our spirits were lifted when Apricots found a bar that would be open at 6 a.m., offering the salvation of coffee. Graveyard workers and early shoremen occupied the entrance, their day already in full swing. We entered without hesitation and ordered our coffee, the warm, bitter liquid providing a much-needed boost for the long coffee-less stretch ahead.

Leaving Ribadesella, we walked along a neighborhood road that reminded us of Southern California. After a few minutes, we veered towards the beach, eager to catch the sunrise. The first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of blue, yellow, and orange, a breathtaking spectacle that made the early rise worthwhile. Reluctantly, we turned back into the neighborhood to stay on track.

The scarcity of potential cafe con leche stops kept us moving at a steady pace. We pushed ourselves to cover as many kilometers as possible in the early hours, knowing that rest stops would be few and far between.

Our path soon led us through a hillside grove of young eucalyptus trees. The blue-green leaves was a unique constant to our days now. For a short stint the trail beneath our feet was damp and spongy. Ferns crept in from the sides, their verdant fronds brushing against our legs. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the sand below accompanied us, a soothing backdrop to our hike.

The trail meandered through grassy landscapes on hills and cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. The sight of the vast, shimmering ocean filled us with a sense of peace and wonder. Eventually, we reached a one-mile road stretch leading into La Isla. Our feet, exhausted from the continuous trek, welcomed the break. We found a café and settled down for drinks, food, and more drinks, relishing the opportunity to rest and refuel.

Revitalized, we continued our journey to Colunga, a town that surprised us with its blend of bustling city life and historic architecture. We had expected another small coastal village with limited amenities, but Colunga defied our expectations. We stocked up on groceries and took the time to visit two churches with their doors open. In one, we lit candles for those who are no longer with us.

The afternoon brought a challenging climb, the sun beating down on us as we trudged up a hot, shadeless path. The air was muggy, and every step felt like a monumental effort. Our destination was the rectory in Priesca, a house that served as the sleeping quarters for the local priest. Six nights a week, it offers housing to peregrinos, and we gratefully accepted the offer.

Upon arrival, we performed our usual end-of-day routine, tending to our tired bodies and organizing our belongings. Then we sat on the lawn, admiring the breathtaking view over the landscape that was beginning to feel more like mountains. The tranquility of the evening enveloped us, a stark contrast to the day's exertions.

Tomorrow will mark the end of this portion of the Camino Del Norte and the beginning of a new adventure on the Camino Primitivo. The Camino Del Norte has already given us so many beautiful views and unique towns that deserved more time than we could offer them. The Primitivo will do the same, but it will be more remote, and thankfully more trail than road.

Day 17: Pinched between the coast and mountains

The gentle sound of rain pattered softly against our tent, intermingling with the distant chime of cowbells, nudging us awake before the alarm. We lingered in the comforting embrace of our sleeping quarters, conversing quietly as we braced ourselves for what could be a wet day ahead. It was the start of another day on the Camino del Norte, our journey taking us from the outskirts of the village of Poó to the historic town of Ribadesella.

By the time we emerged from our tent, the rain had ceased, leaving the ground damp but the air fresh. We packed up swiftly, setting out along the precarious, shoulderless highway that would be our path for the first 300 meters. As we walked, the occasional vehicle whizzed by, a reminder of the narrow margin for error. At one point, a bus passed us, and we stepped aside just in time. In the final five meters of the highway, Psycho paused to capture a photo. It was at that moment a car, attempting to overtake another, sped past us at an alarming speed, no more than two feet away. We were certain the driver hadn’t seen us when he decided to pass. We exhaled in relief as we stepped onto a gravel road leading us towards the ocean.

(panic pic)

The gravel road meandered through small villages and seaside resorts, each with its own charm. Our first hope for a morning café con leche was dashed when the café turned us away, catering exclusively to hotel guests. Other stops along the way were similarly closed, the early hour keeping their doors shut.

After covering 6.9 miles, we arrived at a BBQ restaurant that opened just a minute before we got there. It was a welcome sight. We settled at a picnic table, ordering three coffees between the two of us. The soothing strains of jazz music played in the background as we mapped out the rest of our day, savoring each sip and moment of respite.

Refreshed, we walked another two miles to Nueva, where we purchased a hydrating beverage and a banana. Sitting outside in the shade, we took our time to hydrate and recharge. The ridgeline of the mountainous hills to the south seemed to edge closer as we continued our hike. These hills were a reminder of the Camino Primitivo, another leg of our journey that awaited us in the coming days.

An hour later, we found ourselves resting in the shade of a church in Cuerres, beside a pilgrims’ fountain and a small park. The church, with its simple yet charming architecture, provided a peaceful backdrop as we paused to rest our feet and enjoy the cool shade and tranquility.

The desire to reach Ribadesella and the promise of a shower propelled us forward for the remainder of the walk. We put in our headphones to carry us through the final stretch. The path transformed into a narrow dirt road, flanked by farms and orchards, with barely any traffic to disturb the peace. The final descent into Ribadesella was steep, but the sight of the old city made it worthwhile.

Ribadesella, with its layers of interwoven buildings at varying levels, was a sight to behold. However, the intricate layout meant navigating a seemingly endless series of stairs. We climbed down only to climb back up, finally reaching our accommodation for the night.

Once settled in, we luxuriated in the showers, washing away the sweat and dust of the day. Refreshed, we headed to a nearby grocery store to gather supplies for our customary in-room dinner. Despite the morning’s rain, we had managed to stay dry for the most part, contending with muggy air in the afternoon. We hoped our luck would hold for the following day.

Ribadesella is a town steeped in history, with roots stretching back to the Paleolithic era. The Cuevas de Tito Bustillo, located nearby, is a testament to this, housing some of the most significant prehistoric cave paintings in Spain. We did not visit this sight, as it is closed to visitors in july, and we are tired. 

The town’s port serves as a reminder of its past. Ribadesella played a crucial role in the maritime trade between the 16th and 18th centuries, its ships navigating the treacherous waters of the Cantabrian Sea. Today, the port is a picturesque spot, perfect for an evening stroll to the grocery store.

The old quarter, with its narrow, winding streets and historic buildings, offered a glimpse into Ribadesella’s past. The Church of Santa María Magdalena was built in the early 20th century on the remains of an old medieval church. Psycho commented that the city was too dense for a 20th century church to be built at the center of old Town, but this piece of gistory makes sense. It was almost completely destroyed during the Spanish Civil War in 1936 but was subsequently rebuilt.

 Tomorrow, again we walk.

Day 16: Coasting to Glamping

The morning started early, just like many before it, with the sound of the alarm clock ringing through the stillness at 5:15 AM. We groggily rose from our beds, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and Psycho took to the shower. The water helped to wake him up, washing away any lingering fatigue. By 5:45 AM, we were ready to embark on the day's adventure.

We left our hotel in Colombres, a quaint town known for its indiano architecture—grand houses built by emigrants returning from the Americas with newfound wealth. The town was still cloaked in darkness as we navigated our way down a narrow path, the light from our cellphone flashlights casting light on the ground. Sadly, some snails were lost in the process. The air was crisp, and the silence was only broken by our footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves.

About 1.5 miles into our journey, we stumbled upon a gas station (well Apricots knew about it) that was much more than just a place to refuel. This gas station was an oasis for travelers, offering a variety of breakfast options and freshly brewed coffee. We marveled at the unexpected charm of the place, its warm lights inviting us in from the cold. We sat down and enjoyed our breakfast, savoring the rich aroma of coffee and the delicious sandwich that rejuvenated our spirits. We would have bought the 12 inch palmera, but carting it around seemed impractical. Sad Psycho.

With our stomachs full and spirits high, we set off once more. This time, we chose the scenic route, a slightly longer but far more rewarding trail that hugged the coastline. The path was not paved, which added a sense of adventure to our hike, and relief to our feet. At one point, we even had to crawl under an electric fence, but the effort was worth it. The rolling grassy landscape was littered with rocks and offered breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs filled the air, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied our steps. Ocean waves, birds, and cowbell.

Our trail led us to a precarious natural rock bridge, where we had to cross over waves crashing 50 feet below. The sight was both awe-inspiring and a little unsettling, but we managed to make it across safely, our hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

A few miles later, we arrived in the small town of Pendueles. The town was peaceful, with narrow streets and charming houses. We found a cozy café and stopped for a croissant and another cup of coffee. As we sat there, the heat of the day started to creep in, making us appreciate the shade and the cool breeze. The bar keep had a dog that was quite friendly, even though we offered him no snacks.

The path from Pendueles took us through rolling hills and winding gravel roads, offering us continuous coastal views. To the south, rocky-topped hillsides framed the landscape, creating a stunning contrast with the blue expanse of the ocean to the north. The trail bobbed up and down, each crest revealing a new perspective of the coastal scenery.

Our next stop was at the Bufones de Arenillas, a natural phenomenon where holes in the ground produce eerie sounds like the breathing of a dragon. During high tide and heavy seas, the water pressure forces jets of water up to 40 meters into the air. Although we did not witness the water jets, the sound alone was enough to send shivers down our spines. Earth was breathing.

As we continued on towards Llanes, the trail meandered through stands of eucalyptus trees. The tall trees provided much-needed shade, and their distinct scent added a refreshing touch to the air. Occasionally, the trees would part, offering glimpses of the ocean before pulling away again.

We arrived in the picturesque village of Andrín, where we took a break and enjoyed a cold beverage. After our brief rest, we tackled a small climb over a hill that rewarded us with stunning views of the ocean.

Descending into Llanes, we headed straight for the first supermarket we found to quench our thirst with more cold drinks. Llanes is a town rich in history, its narrow streets lined with medieval buildings and vibrant murals. We made our way to the Church of Santa Maria, a Gothic-style church dating back to the 13th century. Unfortunately, like many before it, the doors were closed, and we could only admire its exterior.

Our final stretch took us from Llanes to Poó de Llanes, our destination for the day. The road led us through serene landscapes, the sound of cowbells growing louder as we approached. We reached our glamping site, a unique experience that combined the beauty of nature with the comforts of modern living. Our canvas tent was perched on a wooden platform, equipped with electricity, WiFi, and nearby showers. 

Despite the lack of solid food options, we managed with the little food we had brought along. The peaceful ambiance, the chirping of birds, and the distant ring of cowbells made for a perfect end to a long warm day.

Day 15: Comillas to Columbres

The day began with the soft chime of an alarm at the casual hour of 6 am. Rising from our cozy beds in Comillas, we prepared for the journey ahead, showering quickly to shake off the early morning haze. With backpacks packed and spirits high, we left the comfort of our hotel, stepping into the awakening world outside. As we walked down the last neighborhood street, the crisp morning air was filled with the fresh scent of oranges, a quick and refreshing breakfast as we began our hike.

Leaving Comillas behind, we soon found ourselves immersed in the natural beauty of Oyambre National Park. The path led us through lush landscapes and over rivers that formed estuaries within the park. Peering down into the clear waters, we could see the ripples made by fish swimming just below the surface, their movements creating a mesmerizing pattern. The tranquility of the park, with its rich biodiversity and serene environment, provided a peaceful start to our trek.

Our walk took a turn of delight when two playful kittens appeared. The white one, shy and cautious, darted away immediately, while the black one seemed curious, approaching us with tentative steps. Psycho bent down to pet the black kitten, but it too decided to retreat to safety at the last moment.

As we began our ascent up a hill, the path rewarded us with magnificent coastal views. The sight of the expansive ocean meeting the sky was breathtaking. A clear line between clouds and clear skies split the skyline. The trail was shared with numerous snails, slowly making their way across, requiring us to watch our steps to avoid them. The combination of stunning scenery and the delicate task of snail-dodging made this part of the hike both challenging and rewarding.

Before long, we reached a small café just before San Vicente de la Barquera. We took a much-needed break, savoring the rich flavor of café con leche and a light snack. Refreshed, we continued into San Vicente de la Barquera, a town steeped in history. Walking across two historic bridges, the Puente de la Maza and Puente del Parral. The town, once a significant medieval port, still held echoes of its storied past in its buildings and streets.

Leaving San Vicente de la Barquera, we faced another climb. This ascent offered splendid views of the town receding behind us, a picturesque backdrop as we made a quick stop at a gas station to buy soda. The next stretch of our journey led us along fairly unscenic stressful highway miles. To pass the time, we plugged in our music and podcasts, allowing the steady rhythm of our footsteps to sync with the sounds in our ears.

After what felt like a long grind, we finally veered off the highway and onto more scenic backroads just outside Pesués. The trail ran alongside a rail line. As we approached the town of Unquera, which lies on the border of Cantabria and Asturias, we were ready for lunch.

We found a welcoming restaurant bar and settled in for a hearty meal. The menu del dia offered a variety of choices. Apricots went for prawns, and Psycho took the chance to have beef. With glasses of wine in hand, we enjoyed our lunch, a brief but delightful respite from the trail.

The joy of a good meal was soon tempered by the realization that the next part of the trail involved a steep climb. With full stomachs, the ascent seemed particularly arduous, each false summit teasing us with hopes of relief. However, the climb was relatively short, and soon enough, we reached the top, where the path leveled out.

Moments later, we arrived in Colombres, a small town with a distinctive character. We sat outside our accommodations, waiting for our room to be ready, taking the opportunity to rest our weary legs. Ten minutes later, we checked into a nice room, beginning our usual end-of-day routine of showering, changing into comfortable clothes, and reflecting on the day’s journey.

In the late afternoon, we took a short walk around Colombres. The town's architecture intrigued us, with many buildings displaying a noticeable Latin American influence. This observation led us to the Museum del Archivo de Indianos, dedicated to Spaniards who had returned from Latin America with newfound wealth. The museum offered insights into how these individuals contributed to the local culture and economy, reinforcing our earlier impressions of the town's unique architectural style.

As the day wound down, we returned to our room, the fatigue of the hike settling in. We spent the evening watching a little YouTube, a comforting and familiar end to a day filled with new experiences. 

Soon, sleep called, and we surrendered to it, knowing that another day on the Camino del Norte awaited us. 

Day 14: Comillas rest day

The morning in Comillas arrived with rain, nudging us gently from the depths of a well-deserved sleep. We reluctantly left the warmth of our beds, our bodies still heavy with the fatigue of previous days' hikes. Slowly, we shuffled downstairs, drawn by the inviting promise of a full breakfast. 

The hotel dining room greeted us with a cornucopia of morning delights, far surpassing the typical fare we had grown accustomed to. Toast and yogurt stood proudly alongside an array of eggs and bacon. There was ham and cheese in abundance, apples and oranges that looked freshly plucked from an orchard, and pastries that promised a sweet start to the day. Coffee, rich and steaming, was the final touch that completed our morning feast. We dined happily, savoring each bite, yearning to stay longer, but knowing that laundromats get busy later in the day.

With satisfied bellies, we set off towards the laundromat, our path leading us through the charming streets of Comillas. Our first landmark was the University of Comillas, a striking example of modernist architecture. Founded in 1890 by the Jesuits, this institution had a storied past, evolving from a seminary to a prestigious university. Its grand façade was viewed from afar through misty rain. There was no drive to linger and explore, as we were not dressed for rain. 

Continuing our walk, we came across the Comillas Cemetery, a place that combined melancholy with splendor. Nestled on a hill overlooking the sea, the cemetery was another beckoning sight with its intricate sculptures and the famous "Ángel Exterminador" (Exterminating Angel) statue by Josep Llimona. This sculpture, with its wings spread wide, seemed to guard the resting souls. The artistry and the serene location made the cemetery a beckoning stop on our morning stroll. Rain and still tired feet stopped us from exploring. 

We descended from the cemetery towards the beach, where the usual rhythmic sound of waves was masked by the sounds of people and rain and cars driving on wet pavement. The beach was nearly deserted, the overcast sky and drizzle deterring visitors. Yet, the solitude added to its charm, and we spent a moment there.

Finally, we reached the laundromat, a humble yet essential destination. The small space was bustling with activity; three machines were in use, and six people were there, turning the simple task of doing laundry into a prolonged affair. As we waited, we amused ourselves with chewing gum from a gumball machine, the small burst of flavor a minor distraction from the monotony of the chore.

Eventually, we sought refuge from the rain in a nearby café, indulging in cups of café con leche. The warmth of the coffee shop, combined with the comforting clink of cups and the murmur of conversation, provided a cozy escape from the dreary weather outside. Many people sought refuge right after we arrived. Aside from our first day on the Camino del Norte, the rain had only graced us during our breaks in Bilbao and now Comillas.

As the rain began to ease, we climbed a path that took us away from the coastline towards a grocery store. Our morning's exertions had kindled a hearty appetite, and we eagerly anticipated lunch. The grocery store visit was quick, our thoughts firmly fixed on the promise of lunch. When we sat down to eat, the combination of pizza and the crisp carbonated beverage was comforting. The 80's music playing in the background added a nostalgic touch, and Psycho took advantage of the relaxed atmosphere to catch up on journaling, with Apricots singing occasionally to the tunes.

After our meal, we retraced our steps to the hotel, laden with groceries and the prospect of an afternoon nap. The comfort of our room beckoned, and we succumbed to a long, restorative sleep. When we awoke, the evening had settled in, and we treated ourselves to a simple yet delicious dinner of salad and then wine on the balcony. 

As we reflected on our restful day, our feet, grateful for the respite, prepared for the journey ahead. Tomorrow, we will leave Comillas and continue our hike towards Colombres. Our path will take us from Cantabria into Asturias, promising new landscapes and adventures. 

The Camino del Norte has already offered us so much—stunning views, historic landmarks, and the simple joys of shared meals and quiet moments. 

Day 13: Shorter walk to a rest day

As the sun began to rise over Santillana del Mar, a picturesque medieval town frozen in time, we woke at the convent where we had spent the night. Today was a shorter day planned for our hike on the Camino Del Norte, allowing us the luxury of an extra hour of sleep. Breakfast was scheduled for 7 a.m., and the convent provided a simple yet satisfying meal: fresh bread, coffee, orange juice, and the unexpected highlight—a boiled egg. Among our fellow peregrinos, the protein boost from the egg was a topic of enthusiastic conversation. We pondered ways to fight over the one uneaten egg at the table, or to divide it evenly.

Santillana del Mar, with its cobbled streets and stone buildings dating back to the 12th century, is often referred to as "the town of three lies" since it is neither holy (santa), flat (llana), nor by the sea (del mar). However, its charm lies in its well-preserved history and architecture, offering a glimpse into the past. As we left the town, we embarked on a climb out of the historic center and soon entered the rolling farmland that typifies this region of northern Spain in the community of Cantabria.

The landscape changed to rocky, grassy hillsides dotted with grazing cattle. The morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled sunlight on our path. The serene beauty of the countryside enveloped us, providing a peaceful start to our day. As we looked up and down the trail, we could see a large group of peregrinos who had left town around the same time, their colorful attire forming a moving tapestry against the green backdrop. Gradually, they spread out across the kilometers, and soon we found ourselves in a quieter stretch of the path, especially after our first café break.

Our first stop was at a quaint café where we enjoyed a Napolitana de Chocolate and a café con leche. This brief respite was perfect for savoring the local flavors and resting our legs. Afterward, we continued our journey, climbing a hill past fields of corn until we reached the Iglesia de San Pedro. This church, perched atop a hill like many we had seen before, offered a serene spot to catch our breath, but we had just rested, so we ambled on our way after a few pictures.

The trail led us through a small town with tall stone walls, some exceeding seven feet in height. These walls, remnants of an era when they perhaps provided protection, added a sense of historical depth to our hike. In one such sparsely populated area, we stopped to refill our water bottles at the Iglesia de San Martín, a simple yet beautiful church that stood as a testament to the enduring faith of the region's inhabitants.

By mid-morning, the heat began to intensify. Our second town break was brief, limited to hydrating beverages as we sought to keep cool. We had planned an alternate route out of this town that would take us past El Monumento a los Peregrinos, a monument dedicated to pilgrims. This detour proved to be a refreshing change of scenery, leading us through a wooded path on an old gravel road. The shade provided by large trees along a quiet, winding road helped keep the heat at bay as we descended towards the final town stop of the day.

We had hoped to find groceries or a proper lunch in the next town, but our expectations were unmet. Instead, we made do with fritos and an ice cream sandwich from the local tavern. The barkeep's kind gesture of offering us a plate with two slices of salami and a small wedge of cheese was a welcome surprise and provided just enough sustenance to fuel our final push to Comillas.

Comillas, while not as ancient as Santillana del Mar, is a town rich in history and vibrant with tourist attractions. The town is known for its impressive architecture, including the Palacio de Sobrellano and El Capricho, a villa designed by Antoni Gaudí. We checked into a comfortable hotel, feeling both stinky and tired from the day's exertions.

After showering and lounging, we ventured out for dinner at a local café. The meal was a delightful culmination of the day's journey: a cod omelet, a fresh salad, and fried prawns. Later, we met up with Joe and Emilie for ice cream. Sitting on a bench, we chatted and shared stories, knowing that today would be our last hike together. Joe and Emilie were heading to Bilbao the next day and then back to Sweden. Not everyone has the luxury of our extended journey, and we cherished these moments together.

Returning to our hotel, we settled in to watch an intense soccer match between Spain and Germany. The game was thrilling, with Spain scoring a decisive goal in the final minute of overtime, clinching the match 2-1. The excitement of the game provided a fitting end to a memorable day.

Finally, as we prepared for much-needed sleep, we couldn't help but talk about the physical toll of the day's hike. The paved surfaces had taken a harsher toll on our feet compared to the softer trails. Psycho was hobbling a bit more than usual, a stark reminder of the Camino's physical demands. Tomorrow will be a rest day, but we do need to walk 20 minutes to a laundromat.

Day 12: Crashing at a Convent

The first light of dawn was just beginning to peek over the horizon, shortly after leaving our modest room, situated outside the main hub of Santa Cruz de Bezana. We had booked this accommodation by mistake, overlooking the exact location and inadvertently adding extra kilometers to our hike. Determined to make up for the lost distance, we started our day early, fueled by a mix of eagerness and necessity.

A short walk later, we arrived at the train station. The next leg of our journey required us to board a train, as it is illegal to cross the local bridge on foot, and the alternate route would have significantly extended our travel time. We purchased our tickets and settled in for the brief ride to Mogro, watching the landscape blur by, mostly shrouded by the darkness of dawn.

Disembarking in Mogro, we were greeted by a brief highway walk, first heading the wrong way due to misunderstanding a local, followed by a trek through neighborhoods that gradually transitioned into farmland. This blend of suburban and rural life was a curious sight for us, hailing from America. Here, dense clusters of single-family homes stood with yards full of cows, chickens, ducks, and occasionally horses. The juxtaposition of domesticity and agriculture is not a normal sight for us, but is far more common here in Spain.

The paved roads wound over rolling hills of farmland, guiding us onward until we descended into Requejada. Our feet, weary from the load-bearing demands of our journey paired with paved hiking, rejoiced at the sight of our first café stop. 

Spain’s public bathrooms, we had learned, often offered a curious mix of amenities. This café, however, was a lucky find, providing a toilet seat, toilet paper, and soap—three out of the usual four possible conveniences. It lacked a means to dry your hands. A surprising number of toilets we have found lack seats, and lack soap. Eek.

Refreshed and with food in our stomachs, we decided to forgo a grocery run. With the end of the day's journey in sight, we opted instead for another café stop before reaching our destination. Psycho indulged in an Oreo donut, a sweet treat that added a spring to our steps. We only had about seven kilometers left in the day.

By midday, we arrived in Santillana del Mar. Known as the city of "three lies"—it is neither holy (not a saint), nor flat (not level), nor coastal (not by the sea)—Santillana del Mar is a tourist magnet. The historic town, with its cobbled streets and ancient storefronts, seemed to look back in time. Our accommodations, a former convent turned hostel for peregrinos, did not open until later. So, as seasoned hikers do, we found a café and indulged in another meal.

The convent, now a refuge for weary pilgrims, offered rooms that were once the nuns' quarters, each turned into 2-bunk accommodations. After checking in, we quickly showered and napped, rejuvenating our bodies for an afternoon of exploration.

We reunited with Joe and Emilie from Sweden, sharing stories and laughs as we strolled through the town's historic streets. After parting ways, we decided to visit the Museum of Torture, driven by Psycho’s morbid curiosity. The exhibits were as intriguing as they were disturbing, providing a grim reminder of the past.

To shake off the somber mood, we headed to a sidrería, a cider house. There, we were fascinated by the contraptions used to pour cider from great heights, aerating the drink in a dramatic display before consumption. The refreshing taste of the cider and the lively atmosphere helped lift our spirits.

Returning to the convent, we joined Magnus, Ellen, Miriam, Sean, and another peregrino from Dresden, Germany, in the garden. The conversation was pleasant and calm, looking back and forward.

Dinner at the convent was a hearty affair. The room buzzed with the energy of pilgrims sharing tales of their journeys over bowls of vegerable soup, chicken in wine sauce, and creamy custard for dessert. Bread and wine flowed freely.

Tomorrow, we will rise early once more, ready to make our way to Comillas, where a rest day awaits us. 

(Due to a dead phone battery, I had no pictures on my phone today, all photos are on Apricots' phone)

Day 11: Overshooting your destination

Waking up at 6 AM in the Albergue, we were greeted with the simplicity and warmth that have come to define our journey on the Camino Del Norte. The morning air was cool, and the sky just beginning to hint at dawn. We gathered for breakfast, a humble yet comforting spread of coffee, bread, butter, and jam, supplemented by a handful of crackers. It was a modest meal, but it carried the generosity of the people who opened their doors to pilgrims like us. The Albergue is a donostia, which means everything is offered for free, and you can donate what you feel is appropriate for your needs.

By 7 AM, we were on the road, leaving behind the Albergue's welcoming walls. The landscape soon filled with the rich, pungent aroma of cattle, a constant reminder of the rural backdrop through which we traversed. The winding roads took us through lush fields and quaint homes, each step bringing us closer to the coast. Our first real respite came at a fancy hotel near the beach, where we indulged in a luxurious café con leche, savoring the rich, creamy coffee that had come to be our daily blessing. Some days were blessed more than others, but we always appreciated the quick rests.

As we continued through the rural suburbs, the road remained quiet, lined with charming homes and sporadic farmlands. The peace was interrupted when Apricots discovered she had lost the bite valve to her water bladder, an inconvenience that made hydration a bit trickier. Thankfully, the Camino's frequent water access points meant this wouldn't be a severe issue. The trail (or rather road) passed several surf shops and learn to surf schools, so we knew that the coast was nearing again.

Our path led us to the Santander ferry terminal, just in time to see the ferry departing. We took this opportunity to rest our feet, a precious thirty minutes of reprieve before the next boat. Psycho took advantage of the break to patch up fresh blisters on his feet, the unfortunate result of hiking in newly acquired sandals. The ferry ride itself was a pleasant interlude, the gentle rocking of the boat a soothing contrast to the steady pace of our hike. Although, Psycho may have experienced a bit of the Ole sea legs, because for the next two hours he felt a little dizzy and light headed. Or perhaps, he hadn't eaten enough before lunch.

Santander welcomed us with the hustle and bustle typical of a city. We paused for a quick coffee, energizing ourselves for the urban trek ahead. One of the highlights of our brief stay in Santander was visiting the Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de Consulación, a beautiful church that offered a moment of reflection and tranquility amidst our journey. 

Leaving Santander, the scenery began to change. The city's outskirts were less captivating, and the kilometers seemed to stretch longer. It was a challenging segment, where the monotonous urban sprawl tested our resolve. Yet, as we moved further, the environment shifted to a more suburban setting, blending farmland with both new and old constructions. The eclectic mix, including vibrant graffiti on concrete walls, told the story of a place in transition, where tradition and modernity coexist.

We sat on a small patch of grass eating lunch next to the light rail train tracks. A few peregrinos passed us while we ate, we briefly spoke with one from Germany that we had dinner with last night, before wishing him "Buen Camino." 

A few kilometers later, and a cat was brushing up against Psycho's leg, and then flopping down for belly rubs. We couldn't resist spending a few minutes giving love to the cat (gato). Every small cat we see, we say "gatito" with excitement, but this was the first that let is pet him. Such happiness in the smallest scenes.

Upon finally reaching Santa Cruz de Bezana, our intended destination, we realized with a sinking feeling that we had overshot our mark. We had to backtrack about a kilometer, an unwelcome detour that added to our fatigue. To compound our frustration, we discovered that our lodging was quite a distance from any restaurant or grocery store.

Dinner was a sparse affair: eight Pringles dipped in hummus, a slice of cheese, and four squares of chocolate. It was far from a feast, but it had to suffice. We comforted ourselves with the knowledge that we had oatmeal and nuts for the morning, a small assurance as we prepared for another day on the trail.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on us as we tried to navigate the quirks of the bathroom faucet, a task that seemed disproportionately challenging in our tired state. Yet, despite the day's trials, we were resolute in our preparation for an early rise. Tomorrow promised a new destination and the hope of more enriching experiences.

The Camino Del Norte is more than a physical journey. From the simple generosity of last nights accomodations, dinner, amd breakfast, to the majestic views, each day offers us new challenges and rewards. Tomorrow always beckons us with the promise of the unknown, but today we must rest our feet.

Day 10: A walk to La Cabaña del Abuelo Peuto

We woke early in Laredo, the sun just beginning to cast its soft light over the sleepy town. The air was fresh with a hint of the ocean, and we started our day with a modest breakfast at a small café. After breakfast, we set out on a gentle 4-kilometer walk to the Laredo-Santoña ferry crossing, our filled with anticipation for the day's first adventure, a ferry crossing. We of course double checked prices before showing up and made sure the money was present to avoid the chaos of the previous misinformed ferry ride.

Arriving at the ferry dock (or should I say beach) earlier than planned, we found ourselves with some time to spare. We settled down on the beach, the sand cool beneath us, and watched as the boats passed through the river toward the ocean. The landing gradually came to life with other peregrinos. One by one, other peregrinos joined us, their faces reflecting the same bit of excitement that we felt. By the time the ferry was ready to depart, a small community of about 20-25 pilgrims had gathered, bound together by the shared path of the Camino.

The ferry ride was brief but refreshing. We docked in Santoña, a town rich with maritime history and known for its anchovy production. We passed on having anchovies to start the day. Instead we took the quick coffee break we have come to value regularly. In a hole in the wall restaurant, we sat inside, savoring the strong, dark brew that would fuel us for the next leg of our journey. We set off, walking alongside the imposing walls of the Santoña Penitentiary. This high-security prison, built in the early 20th century, loomed next to us for ten minutes of walking along its outer wall.

Leaving Santoña, we encountered our first real challenge of the day: a short but steep climb over a hill thick with bushes. As we ascended, the views opened up, revealing sweeping sandy beaches on either side. The sight was breathtaking, the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean stretching out before us. Descending from the hill, we found ourselves on one of these beaches. We couldn't resist the temptation to remove our shoes and let the cool waters of the Atlantic lap at our feet. For a while, we walked barefoot, savoring the simple pleasure of "a long walk on the beach."

Our path led us through the town of Noja, where we took a brief lunch break on its outskirts. We had a triple decker crab-salad ham and cheese sandwich in Castillo Siete Villas. The road from Noja was narrow and paved, winding through rural farmland. The thick, sweet smell of humidity mixed with the earthy scents of farms filled the air, a sensory mix of pleasant but not really pleasant smells. Our feet grew tired as the afternoon heat set in, but we pressed on, motivated by the promise of rest at our next stop.

By mid-afternoon, we reached the Albergue La Cabaña del Abuelo Peuto, a place many peregrinos consider one of the most meaningful stops along the Camino. The albergue was a haven, its beautiful property capable of hosting over 200 pilgrims. We settled in, grateful for the respite, and soon found ourselves on the lawn, chatting with fellow travelers. Magnus and Ellen from Copenhagen, and Andreu from Spain, shared their stories, and we recounted a few tales from our hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. The camaraderie was practically a given, a testament to the bonds formed on such endeavors as a long hike.

As the day began to wane, around 7 PM, roughly 60 peregrinos from 11 different countries gathered in the common space. We were there to hear a greeting from the 87-year-old practicing priest who had helped build and now ran the establishment with the assistance of volunteer work. His words were heartfelt, and his presence a reminder of the enduring spirit of the Camino. The albergue, a labor of love and community, stood in support for those making the pilgrimage.

After the introductions, we all made our way to the dining hall for dinner. The meal was simple but satisfying, accompanied by wine that flowed freely, encouraging conversation and laughter. As the night drew to a close, we turned in, knowing the process will repeat tomorrow, but also be wildly different. Each day offers a different reward, and different challenges.