Day One

Basque Country To Cantabria
Vesna Maric takes a three-day tour of northern Spain’s pilgrims’ trail, and finds it offers some of the best coastal and cultural experiences. Photography by Rafael Estefania

I am a fake pilgrim. That is, in the eyes of the devout, who walk hundreds of kilometres along northern Spain’s Camino de Santiago (or Way of St James) to attain the compostela, or certificate of accomplishment – as well as some spiritual enlightenment.

I don’t think I am a fake pilgrim – after all I am following the coastal route (Camino del Norte) starting at one point (Bilbao), stopping off at several spots along the way (Santander, Gijón), and finishing at the traditional end of the pilgrimage, Santiago de Compostela. The only difference between the real pilgrims and me is that they are walking and I am driving. Oh, and that they take weeks to complete the pilgrimage and I’ve only got a long weekend.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a big admirer of the pilgrims who travel by foot, bicycle, on horseback and even by donkey as they did in medieval times, but I don’t have weeks or months and frankly, enduring sweaty armpits, aching legs and blistered feet is just not my thing. But, I have decided to set myself some tasks: taste at least three local specialities, swim from at least one beach, see a range of monuments, visit at least three churches and get to Santiago by noon on Sunday. I start Friday morning.

Bilbao’s Guggenheim Museum shimmers in the pink morning sunshine, its titanium and limestone structure splashing about in the air like a prehistoric sea monster. I fasten a scallop shell – the symbol of St James, or Santiago, and the sign of a pilgrim – onto my handbag and head along the city’s Nervión river. The riverside area is undergoing a massive redevelopment. A dreary and industrial part of town until a few years ago, no one I talk to can quite believe the transformation. It’s not only architect Frank Gehry whose buildings adorn the cityscape, there’s work by Norman Foster, Zaha Hadid, Santiago Calatrava and Arata Isozaki. Their structures take all shapes and sizes, playing with light, material, form and tradition. Bilbao is fast becoming a modern, vibrant city.

What I really want to see, though, is the Hanging Bridge, Spain’s only Unesco-protected industrial monument. The tall, slender metal structure looks like it has been made out of incinerated matchsticks. It transports cars and pedestrians between the riverbanks on a suspended raftlike concoction from morning till night. Alberto de Palacio, a friend of Gustave Eiffel, built the bridge in 1893, which explains why the structure could be mistaken for a deconstructed Eiffel Tower. I brave the 40m lift climb, a perfect vantage point – the Bay of Biscay stretches to the north, and the posh Bilbao suburbs to the south. The view is beautiful, dare I say it makes me feel a little spiritual.

My next task is food – and if there’s one thing the Basque Country is known for, it is gastronomic excellence. I drive out to Baserri Maitea, one of the region’s best restaurants, hidden in the depths of the emerald countryside. The thick rays of sunlight fall though the ceiling of the converted old barn, illuminating the food as if by a divine spotlight. There’s tender, bloody beef and impeccable seafood, and as I chew, I feel I am diligently fulfilling the tasks of my condensed pilgrimage.

After lunch, I get into the car and head to the neighbouring region of Cantabria, and the church of Santa Maria de Bareyo. The 12th-century Romanesque structure is sparse, save for a few simple Bible scene carvings.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 1st, 2008 at 4:06 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.