the northern coast

Fall 2014: a trip to the northwestern corner of Spain, following the Cantabrian and Atlantic coasts from San Sebastian to Vigo, through the Países Vascos, Cantabria, Asturias, and Galicia  (see map)

18 - 22 sep   BILBAO, Vizcaya Hotel Melia Bilbao

23 - 27 sep   PECHÓN, Cantabria Hotel Tinas de Pechón

28 - 30 sep   LUARCA, Asturias Hotel Dabeleira

01 - 03 oct    CARIÑO, Galicia Hotel A Miranda

04 - 05 oct    FISTERRA, Galicia Hotel Alén do Mar

06 - 08 oct    A GUARDA, Galicia Hotel San Benito

Bilbao

21 September

Jerome and I are back in Spain, back in Bilbao, in fact, almost exactly a year from our last visit. We are nestled into the very comfortable Meliá Bilbao, a large modern hotel with all the amenities and a view over a city park, where an amazingly energetic terrier takes her early morning race-track exercise every day, leaping over tall hedges and chasing anything that can run or be thrown, friends apparently with every other person or dog she meets. We had a delightfully smooth trip over last Thursday, including being prechecked through TSA at the airport, flawless connections, friendly personnel. A $2 bus ride from the Bilbao airport dropped us six blocks from the hotel. After check-in, we reoriented ourselves to the city with a long walk, and then enjoyed dinner at Serantes III, a sister restaurant of Serantes II, which we discovered last trip. Not sure what time zone our stomachs were in, we had a simple supper of green salad and grilled local fish.

Central Bilbao sits in the bend of a river a few kilometers from the sea, a bend in the shape of an inverted U when facing north (seaward). The Guggenheim museum is at the top of the bend, our hotel is at the left end, and the old town at the right. Downtown Bilbao occupies the middle. On Friday morning we wandered all the way across town (it's not that big) to the old covered market (now modernized). We were too late for some stalls, but there were still plenty of fish, meat, and produce stands offering colorful and fresh foodstuffs. We stopped in a cafe for coffee and croissants along the way, as well as an art store for India ink and drawing paper, and a sporting goods store for a yoga mat. After the market, we wandered through the narrow streets of the old quarter, along the river, and back to hotel.

Along the way, we had noticed Las Cepas, a tiny modern restaurant that looked very inviting and to which we returned mid-afternoon for the main meal of the day: fresh gazpacho (pureed,like salmorejo, but without the bread), risotto with vegetables, grilled fresh merluza (hake), strawberry mousse, white Rueda wine (verdejo).

After a late-afternoon siesta, we met up with our good friend, Libby Dietrich, from Torrey and Sausalito, who has just finished a twelve-day pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago. We celebrated with a traditional tapas crawl, first back to Las Cepas, then to Panko (www.pankobilbao.com), then back to our hotel via Licenciado Poza, a hot tapas street jammed with Friday night revelers. We were looking for El Mugi, a highly rated tapas bar, but the crowds were so dense that we could barely move, much less find a specific address.

That was Friday, our first full day. Yesterday the three of us spent the morning at the Guggenheim, taking in a wonderfully comprehensive Georges Braque exhibit, plus the permanent Richard Serra installation, and the spectacle of a diving competition off the very high bridge that crosses the river outside the museum. Then we walked up to the Ahondiga, an ancient grain warehouse now housing small shops, a public library, and a swimming pool in a very stylish remodel. We found our Serantes II from last year, arriving just as a the skies opened in a major rainstorm, and enjoyed another delicious, long lunch. We walked back to our hotels against a tide of fans going to the Athletic Bilbao/Granada soccer game at the stadium four blocks away. Red and white striped shirts everywhere. (Unfortunately, Bilbao lost.)

Another rest, then we took the above-ground city tram back around the loop of the river to the old town, just for the fun of it. Another fairly long walk along the far side of the river took us to the bottom of an old funicular that climbs the steep hill into residential Bilbao, from which there was a glorious view of the whole inverted U of the city. Once again river-side, we found some rather nondescript tapas just because we were hungry, but then on our way down Licenciado Poza once again, we were rewarded by finding El Mugi, which not only offered wine but also vermouth, and tapas of duck liver with fresh apple, grilled shrimp encrusted in peanuts, and fresh grilled cod, all served on small slices of fresh baguette.

This is the park outside our hotel. More photos of our adventures around Bilbao are located at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/Mj3JNqqxtoU?pid=6061974369743146402&oid=113886039316216265781 

Getxo

22 September

Yesterday Libby, Jerome, and I crossed the Bilbao river from our hotels to have a classic Spanish breakfast on a plaza in the Deusto district: cafes con leche, fresh o.j., fresh baguettes spread with olive oil and pureed fresh tomato (did I mention that it was all fresh?). This area is named for the University of Deusto, a prestigious private Jesuit university housed there. The district feels student-like, at least once up off the main business street, with Basque independence sentiments visible in flags, banners, and graffiti along the streets, and plenty of places to hang out. Deusto was a separate rural municipality known for its tomatoes until the city absorbed it in 1925.

A 30-minute ride on the very modern metro took us from Deusto to Getxo (gay-cho) at the mouth of the estuary, where we found lots of beach, sunbathers, runners, cyclists, and some kind of marathon, plus sunshine and a general weekend atmosphere. The towns that occupy this headland seem to consist of affluent homes and gardens, plus a line of early 20th-century mansions that interested Jerome greatly. After exploring, we took a bus back to Bilbao, enjoying lovely river and city views. The Vizcaya Bridge was built to connect the two banks which are situated at the mouth of the Nervion River. It is the world's oldest transporter bridge and was built in 1893, designed by Alberto Palacio, one of Gustave Eiffel's disciples. It was the solution to the problem of crossing the estuary without disrupting the maritime traffic of the Port of Bilbao. Downtown again, we had cañas (small, very cold draft beers ubiquitous in Spain) and rested our feet.

It was midafternoon, so we headed Cafe Iruña for lunch. Glasses of sherry preceded cream of wild mushroom soup, salad with duck prosciutto, and a cocido of morcilla (blood sausage) and beans, followed by sea bass and veal entrees, and apple tarts and lemon sorbet for dessert (remember that there were three of us!). As always after this main meal of the day, we took a long walk, through the narrow streets of the old quarter, then through a still largely immigrant district, then through upscale Indautxu, then down the tapas street again, and finally home to our hotels. We were pretty tired, and although Jerome walked a bit later in the evening, I stayed in the hotel, watching Barcelona win another soccer game.

Photos of our day are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/b1GZW49yHRH?pid=6061968916646038658&oid=113886039316216265781

San Sebastian

23 September

Libby, Jerome, and I spent Monday on a day trip to San Sebastian, some 63 miles to the east of Bilbao and about 13 miles from the border with France. We rode the bus on a cloudy day that was a bit damp but still comfortable, via a winding freeway through coastal mountains, reminiscent of highways along the northern California coast.

San Sebastian is known locally as Donostia, its Basque name. The two names actually both mean "Saint Sebastian", dono being Basque for saint and stia being a shortened form of Sebastian. The small city is located on a beautiful bay with lovely beaches, which we could only partially appreciate on such a gray day. There was one solitary fellow on the beach, warmly dressed and drawing large pictures in the sand. SS is a famous tourism center, and one of its principal annual events is an international film festival, which as it happens is taking place this week (the reason we didn't actually stay in San Sebastian on this trip). We walked along the edge of the "red carpet" in front of the main venue but saw no celebrities at 1 in the afternoon.

We had walked out the main shopping avenue from the bus terminal to the beach, then through the shop- and restaurant-filled old town, and across the river to where the film festival is headquartered. Then we looped back, looking for the perfect restaurant for Jerome's birthday lunch. This we found at Bodegón Alejandro (www.bodegonalejandro.com), a Michelin-recommended "updated traditional Basque" dining establishment. So, the rest of this post is for you foodies. Do look at the web site, which has an English-language version available via the upper right corner.

Our "lunch" turned into a three-hour meal, since we chose to share the six-course "tasting menu":

     - Cold-marinated anchovy lasagne and vegetable rataouille with gazpacho cream

     - Creamy rice with baby cuttlefish and slices of Idiazábal cheese

     - Grilled hake on potatoes with virgin olive oil and citrus vinaigrette

     - Braised beef with hazelnuts

     - French toast (2" thick), caramelized and served with a creamy cream cheese sauce

     - Fresh strawberries with mascarpone sauce and biscuit crumbs

Wow. The flavor and texture contrasts were outstanding, and portions were modest so that we could enjoy every last bite. The photos, which I shall send along soon, may give some impression of the visual beauty of the servings, though I suspect that they do not do them justice.

We all dozed on the bus trip home, arriving later than we had expected due to the length of the meal! We hugged our goodbyes in the rain outside the Bilbao bus station, since Libby was going on to France the next day, and Jerome and I to Cantabria. Whence the next post, probably tomorrow!
Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/gJ2G6T6RrTD?pid=6061962788217126370&oid=113886039316216265781

Pechón

24 September

We left Bilbao on a gray but dry Tuesday morning in a rental car, a black low-end SEAT (the Spanish VW subsidiary) that is adequate but nothing special (I think Jerome is a bit disappointed that it isn't snazzier). We weren't going far, just crossing from the Basque provinces into the next region westward, Cantábria. The first leg of the trip was freeway, but after we passed Santander, we hooked onto secondary roads that led us past the caves at Altamira to the coast. Life immediately calmed down.

We are housed for these five nights in Pechón, a tiny town perched on a headland between two rivers that each have their own municipalities: San Vicente de la Barquera to the east, and Unquero to the west. Pechón has a year-round population of 200 that swells to 800 with summer vacationers from Madrid (Torrey residents will recognize the pattern). It is clearly already post-season, since three of the five restaurants in town are closed, as well as the only grocery store.  We are in a lovely, modern hotel with semi-apartments, meaning that we have a mini-kitchen and don't have to depend on eating out. Both San Vicente and Unquera are provisioning centers, not only for the surrounding villages but also for pilgrims on the Camino and for hikers in the nearby national parks. There is a local pastry called acorbata (necktie) that consists of an elongated rectangle of flaky pastry topped with meringue below the "knot" at one end. I'll try to get a photo.

Our activities here are fairly focused. Jerome is doing research into the phenomenon of nineteenth and twentieth century immigrants who left Spain for the "new world" (3 million between 1880 and 1930) and then returned when the depression hit the western hemisphere. Collectively, they are known as "Indianos" and the wealthiest of them came back to build distinctive houses that blend the architecture of the Americas with Iberian influences. These also are called Indianos, or casas Indianas. We first saw some last year when we were in this region, and Jerome has been investigating them ever since. Colombres, a town a few kilometers from Pechon, is home to the archives of the records and research into the people and their houses. Jerome spent this morning there. I stayed in Pechón, photographing and beginning to paint some of the textures and patterns around the village. We will repeat this pattern in the days to come.

In addition, there are caves of prehistoric art nearby, which interest both of us, and we plan some excursions there. Historic sites seem to skip from the prehistoric to the medieval (San Vicente has a lovely castle), with no sign of Romans or Visigoths, but we have not explored in depth, yet. I will report in the days to come.

West of Pechon, San Vicente de la Barqueira is a fishing port on the camino lebaniego, the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela that hugs the north coast (see the map in the photos via the link below). With its medieval castle topping its low hill, and medieval walls scattered around the pleasant contemporary small city, San Vicente had plenty to show us on three different visits (including a regional gin!), and as I have mentioned, delicious food to feed us. 

Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/Zq5vSJJGfpD?pid=6063379710870501538&oid=113886039316216265781

Cantabrian coast

26 September

Our third morning in Pechón is fresh but sunny, with none of the fog of the last two days. Jerome has gone off to Colombres for a second visit to the archives on immigration, and after I finish this I am going to sketch a bit.

During our visit to this region last year, we spent time in Ribadesella and visited the Tito Bustillo cave with its astounding paleolithic art. On this trip, we had planned to visit El Pindal and El Chufín, two smaller caves close to Pechón with significant prehistoric rock paintings of their own, but unfortunately both are temporarily closed (electrical renovations). So we settled for a visit yesterday to Altamira, the most famous of all Cantabria's literally dozens of painted caves. Altamira itself is permanently closed to the public (too much carbon dioxide), but the interior has been replicated in a museum near its entrance. Not to be too picky, but I was a little disappointed in the Altamira paintings, because they are all on the ceiling of one big room, and even though the many big animals of various species are reproduced very nicely, it doesn't have the detail, variety, and personality that Tito Bustillo has. The museum, however, is very well done. One of our favorite sections showed photos of prehistoric art from sites around the world, and constituted a powerful reminder of our common origins. Chaco and Mesa Verde were included.

We have spent the past couple of afternoons exploring this part of the coast: Suances, Santillana del Mar, Comillas, San Vicente de la Barquera. All essentially fishing villages grown into small towns and cities, apparently modestly prosperous but quiet. Santillana del Mar (at right) is the most touristy by far with its large pedestrian district of historic stone buildings and tchotchke shops. In his novel Nausea, Sartres described the town as the prettiest in Spain, a quote that accompanies any marketing of the place, but is also openly challenged by almost anyone from anywhere else. Now, toward the end of the tourist season, we only counted ten busloads of mostly Brits and Americans, but I shudder to think what it must be like mid-summer. The other towns are less well preserved, but much more profound, with real people leading real lives. We've eaten both days at El Marinero in San Vicente, a quiet seafood restaurant with, in our experience, only Spanish clients, and excellent, simple, fresh fish entrees thoughtfully prepared and proudly presented. No hoopla, and a complete "menu of the day" dinner costs all of US$15. Not atypical, and part of what we love about Spain. The steamed clams with garlic and parsley were to die for.

The countryside along the Cantabrian "corniche", as they call it, consists of rocky coastline giving onto rolling agricultural country penetrated by frequent rivers that lead up into the Cantabrian mountain range, the Picos de Europa, some of the highest peaks in Spain and home to both national parks and skiing and hiking resorts. If the coast range of California backed up directly to the Sierras, with no Central Valley, it would be similar. The countryside is bucolic, with a lot of dairy cattle, and small towns of a few hundred people each. Wherever a river gives onto the sea, a fishing village and peaceful beach welcome whatever travelers come through. As I mentioned earlier, this is the coastal route to Santiago de Compostela, and pilgrims appear frequent along the roads, with their conch shells hanging from their backpacks.

The visits to Altamira, Suances beach, and Santillana del Mar are illustrated by the photos here:  

https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/1UY4oGPVPXN?pid=6064169943517311522&oid=113886039316216265781

mountains, rivers, and food

27 September

Today (Saturday) we drove up a very narrow, very deep defile to Potes, a town of about 1,400 at the junction of four alpine valleys in the Picos de Europa. The elevation is only 1,000 feet, but it feels like the Alps. The town turned out to be a little too touristy for our taste, but the drive up and back down was delightful, the gorge of the crystalline river lined by vertical gray cliffs draped with greenery, on a gorgeous autumn day. There were any number of starting points along the way for high-mountain hikes, as well as for rappelling on the limestone cliffs. And canoeing, and kayaking, and horseback treks, and 4-wheeling. Much of the region is a national park, and so protected from more Potes-like development.

Food-wise, we had probably the highlight meal of the trip yesterday at the restaurant Arbidel in Ribadesella. We had been there last year for Jerome's birthday dinner. In the year since, the place has earned a one-star Michelin rating (due, no doubt to our enthusiastic review of it on Trip Adviser), and we couldn't resist the opportunity to return. If anything, it excelled itself. As in San Sebastian, we had the "tasting menu" (menú degustación) that can be found in Spanish on the website http://arbidel.com/. The four appetizers were served in two pairs, a corn-and-guacamole shot of cold soup paired with a tablespoon of minced salmon tartare, and then a cuplet of salted cod mousse topped with tomato puree and toasted sugared almonds paired with another mousse of lightly curried whipped potato and cauliflower. Incredibly subtle flavors and textures. The five "platos" (entrees), no more than a quarter cup each in amount, were served sequentially, which is part of why we were there for 2-1/2 hours. Roughly speaking: apple gazpacho; tomato/red onion/smoked anchovy salad; truffled couscous with mushrooms and minced cabbage; salted cod with octopus foam (didn't work for us); and a wonderful, tiny taste of braised beef subtly flavored with celery and beets. Two tiny, light, fruit-based desserts.

Other than this incredibly wonderful meal, we ate at much more humble cafes, including El Ancla, a block from our hotel in Pechón, where the locals gathered each night for wonderful fresh food and a glass of wine or beer, and in our own hotel, Tinas Pechón, which served excellent food as well. We are so pleased to have had an extended stay in this western corner of Cantabria. Tomorrow we head into Asturias for further exploration of the "green coast"of northern Spain.

​Our attempt to see the cave at El Pindal, and our drive along the Asturian coast and visit to Ribadesella,​ are here:​https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/1UY4oGPVPXN?pid=6064169399752710610&oid=113886039316216265781​

​And, finally, our trip up to Potes in the mountains, on the last day of our stay in Pechon, is recorded here:​ https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/SeLmRyFupkQ?pid=6064168675744629266&oid=113886039316216265781

Luarca

30 September

Moving westward, we continue to enjoy the Cantabrian coast. On the way to Luarca, we stopped briefly in Llanes (at right). We have never stayed there, but remembered visiting its attractive harbor and historic center last year​. It is a small (4,000 ​people​) fishing port with a lively tourist industry (mostly other Spaniards). Lots of nice walks in and outside of town, beautiful scenery, interesting shops and restaurants. This time, we were especially interested in its Indiano houses of which there are several.  Photos are here: https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/fXFbfKupy7y?pid=6064166603799051282&oid=113886039316216265781

We had seen Luarca, a ​regionally ​well-known fishing port in the Valdéz municipality of Asturias, from the train to Ribadesella last year and were attracted to it. So, this year we spent three nights there. It is a proudly "white" town of about 5,500 that climbs up the steep hills around its port and is divided by the river that flows down out of a deep gorge a bare kilometer from the beach. Several bridges cross the river, so it is no impediment to the flow of traffic in town. We were in a very small, modern hotel a ways back from the waterfront, but the town is so small that we could easily walk everywhere we wanted to. This is cider (sidra) country, so we tried some and enjoyed it; it is not sweet, and is poured from 3-4 feet above the glass to aerate it a bit, which livens up the flavor. Luarca has a beautiful harbor and is still a very active fishing port, and we watched boats go in and out each day. It was a very relaxing place.

Both mornings we were in Luarca, we went off to explore the many Indiano houses in the region. On the plain above Luarca's gorge, in the larger municipality of Valdéz, we found a grouping of five or six Indiano homes around a common square that were quite spectacular, but all were abandoned and run down except one that had been turned into a modern hotel. One particularly evocative house had burned shortly after being built, and was never restored; today mature trees grow right out of its empty shell. See local tourism info​ in English​ at www.turismoluarca.com/index.php/que-hacer/cultura/87-casas-de-indianos.

Our hostess at the hotel lived in a nearby fishing village, Puerto de Vega, and recommended two restaurants there to us, since we were headed that way with our explorations. With only about 2,000 inhabitants, Puerto de Vega is even smaller than Luarca, and we enjoyed the intimacy of its port. And we found that it contains several Indianos of its own. We ate delicious seafood lunches there, at each of the two restaurants, ​on each of the ​two days.

We also visited the Asturian towns of Navia, Tapia, and Castropol, looking for Indiano homes. We didn't find any that were particularly memorable, but the coast and countryside were spectacular.  My photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/AWRyqYAs9PX?pid=6064884937856520914&oid=113886039316216265781

Celtic castros

1 October

We left our hotel in Luarca on Wednesday morning after a delicious breakfast at a pastelería (bakery/cafe) that we had discovered on Monday; Jerome had a small sandwich and I had a toasted baguette, plus juice and coffee for both of us. We also picked up a loaf of pan rústico (the Spanish name for crusty bread, in this case a baguette) and a couple of almond cookies for our evening meal in Galicia.

Before leaving Asturias, however, we drove about twelve miles up a very windy, steep, mountainous road to the town of Boal, where we had read that there were some Indiano houses along the highway. It took us longer than we had expected to get there, and the houses weren't very interesting, so we turned around and headed back to Coaña, where a Celtic castro, or fortified town, has been unearthed and an interpretation center established. This was an Iron-Age village (4th century b.c.) of round dwellings built of slate with thatched roofs. About 80 structures are clustered on a hill below a walled "acropolis", with streets, drainages, and even baths. The Romans conquered it in the 1st century but did not live there, so it was left pretty much intact. The site was discovered in 1877, so it is one of the earliest castros to come to light. On the down side, modern archaeological techniques were not available then, and so its excavation and restoration were somewhat crude. Still, the site is protected, and at least half as yet unearthed, and if the economy ever turns around, they expect to do more research at the site. The two staff members on duty filled the role of our national park rangers, both very professional and clearly knowledgeable, and told us a lot about the development of the site in archaeological terms as well as historical and cultural.

In talking to the two park rangers, we also learned that Boal, the town up the road, is in fact a center for research not only on the Indianos but on immigration in general, through an institute there that collaborates with regional universities. An annual symposium is taking place there this weekend; we obviously should have researched the town more deeply before we blew it off. But by now it was after noon and we were eager to be on our way, so we filed both places away as resources for future visits to Asturias.

We headed west into Galicia, stopping for a meal at a corner cafe in Viveira, and arriving at our hotel here near Cariño, in the farthest northwestern corner of the Iberian peninsula. A Miranda ("The View", in Galician) is a modern hotel, family run, with only six rooms. It sits on a bluff looking over a huge estuary. It does indeed have a beautiful view. We got here to find the place closed with a "back in a moment" note on the door. So we took a drive, came back, and still no one here. We began to formulate a "plan b". Finally another guest arrived, let herself in with her key, and called the owner. So all was well. Whew. This is a remote area, largely undeveloped in terms of tourism, and we weren't sure what the options would have been. But we have had a lovely couple of days, about which more in another post.