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:
