Enjoying Cantabria

Living in Galicia, we tend to think it's the greenest area of Spain. But the rest of northern Spain is green, as well. It's even greener in other areas because eucalyptus trees are not as exploited as they are here. So, you'll see firs, chestnuts, oaks, and many other deciduous trees. 

So, Cantabria is green. It was our vacation this year, five years after our last one. Luck had it that I chose one of the most peaceful and beautiful spots as our base, Vega de Pas. It's called that because of the Pas river that runs through it, but it should be called Paz, instead, for peace

The first day or two there were still plenty of visitors, but then the fifteenth of the month passed, and suddenly, most of them were gone. The first couple of nights we had the choice of four or five restaurants. After that, the choice whittled down to two and then one. Even the bars of the other restaurants closed, at least earlier in the evening. Few cars passed through. Few enough that a dog could lounge in the middle of the street in front of the town hall without a problem. The only things that threatened that peace were the cows and the sheep.

On a hill in front of our pension was a herd of sheep that had bells around their necks. From time to time, as they ate, the bells would ring out. Some nights, they would walk around, and we could hear the bells. There were cows nearby, also with their own bells. They stayed out at night, so, clong-clang would sound from time to time. Apart from that, the place smelled of cows. My husband said that all of Cantabria, even next to the sea, smelled of the bovines. 

Here, in Galicia, cows are now generally kept in large stables, where they are fed, and where they live. But in the mountains of Cantabria, they are still kept outside day and night in the good months. In the hot summer, they are herded to high meadows, where the shepherd will spend the time living in the cabaña pasiega, a type of small stone house, many times with a wooden balcony. We passed hundreds of those constructions in the mountains, too many with a "For Sale" sign on them. Habits are dying. 

But the area still capitalizes on the specialties that come from the rich cow's milk. Sobaos pasiegos, a type of small, square cake cooked in folded wax paper are sold everywhere. Quesada pasiega, a type of cheese cake that doesn't resemble a cheese cake. Mild cheeses, too, abound. So does rich butter. The owners of the place where we stayed made their own sobaos that they served for breakfast, as well as the quesadas served in the restaurant. They also made their own butter, and a wonderful berry jam. Other than that, the regional dishes contain beans and beef. A lot of beef. At many restaurants in the mountains, that was the principle meat on the menu, with a bow to pork. Missing in action was chicken. But we didn't see any pigs, and very few chickens. Just cows, sheep, and goats. 

What we did see were mountains. They were of calcareous rock, and riddled with caves and fissures. One of the caves we visited was in the next door province of Burgos, Ojo Guareña. We chose the short visit, and were led by a guide through a door down into the cool galleries, where we saw a rock hollowed out hundreds of years ago to catch falling water. The legend says that whoever bathes their eyes with the water will be able to see what can't be seen. The guide mentioned a woman who washed her eyes in a month of little rain, when it's not a good idea, because little water falls, and the water in the rock isn't fresh. But then she came back with bottles to take water back. It seems she had had an eye operation that had left her seeing spots. After washing her eyes, they had disappeared. The guide, however, recommended not doing so.

After following her through an area used for storage, we arrived at the back of the chapel. The natural curve of the cave had been used to paint scenes from the life of San Tirso. An altar had been hollowed out at one end. The natural light came from windows in the door of the façade that had been built to cover the cave mouth. It was still used every year on the saint's day, in June, I think.

Other caves include the famous Altamira, near Santillana del Mar. It was discovered in the nineteenth century, and is now closed to the public, like the Lascaux caves in France. A museum can be visited as well as a replica of the prehistoric paintings. On Fridays, there's a sweepstakes and five winners are taken, after donning appropriate outerwear, to the cave itself to view the original paintings. The cave we visited, however, Cueva del Castillo in Puente Viesgo, is still open to the public. There are two caves one can visit there, both are impressive geologically, but also with their paintings. 

The first has fewer paintings, and they're more recent, from around 12,000 years ago; the last Ice Age. They are of animals now found in Siberia, reindeer, small horses, and foxes. The first one we saw took my breath away. Drawn with charcoal, it looked like it had been done a few moments earlier. At the other, bigger cave, there was an ongoing excavation that had reached levels of use from 150,000 years ago. But only the opening was inhabited, the interior was only used for the paintings. Inside, there were paintings done with red ocher from up to 40,000 years ago. These were slightly more difuse, outlines of bisons, deer, and many hundreds of outlines of hands. A person had placed their left hand against the wall, while another blew ocher onto it through pipes of hollowed out bones. The prints were of hands my size (my hands are definitely small). It was impressive to stand in the spot where people had stood so many years ago to leave that record there, for whatever reason. In that time, the cave has only changed to make the floor firmer for people to walk; everything else was the same. We were lucky; the guide said that it won't be long before those caves are also closed to visits, to preserve the paintings.

The coast of Cantabria is less hilly than the interior. There are beautiful towns there, as well. Santillana del Mar, on the Way of Santiago, has been so preserved, it's been turned into a tourist attraction. It has some nice corners, but it's too dedicated to outsiders. Comillas, though, and San Vicente de la Barquera, are still pretty, and you can tell normal people live there, with businesses dedicated to normal lives. At Comillas, too, is the Capricho de Gaudí, an eclectic house the famous Catalan architect built for a moneyed client. I can imagine living there, with the open layout. It's actually small for a mansion, with only one bedroom. The attic was dedicated for the servants. 


At San Vicente, the medieval church on the hill above the town has a wooden floor. In just about every large church, there are stone flags with little holes where a hook can be inserted to lift the flag and deposit bones; a cemetery within the church. This church has large wooden planks that do the same service. I've never seen that anywhere else. 

Heading to the interior, there are areas that have heavy industry. One town, Arenas de Iguña, also hosts a beautiful mansion from the nineteenth century, one King Alfonso XIII, often stayed at. He fell in love with the architecture, which is essentially that of a British country house and was built by a Scottish architect. He built his Palacio de la Magdalena in Santander as a copy of it. The mansion is called the Palacio de los Hornillos, and is now also known as the house where the movie The Others was filmed. It has an enormous garden surrounding it, and the property is bisected by a road. It's owned by the Duque de San-Carlos and can't be visited, only admired from the road. 

What we revelled most in, though were the drives through the mountains. Leafy green forests would give way to impossibly green grass and then grey, striated rocks going up and up. Sometimes, the rock would be broken by the black of a cave. On one mountain, we could see from afar climbers that were pulling themselves up to one of those caves. The weather was typical mountain weather. The first days, clouds would accumulate and download thunderstorms. Some afternoons, the tops were covered in mist. While Galicia baked, and eastern and southern Spain drowned, we had mild days, punctuated by a few hours of sun, and a shower or two. 

The vacation was rounded out by a detour on our way back. We wandered from Unquera down the road to Potes, and entered the Desfiladero de la Hermida, a road that follows a river valley deep into the Picos de Europa, where grey mountains grow even taller, gazing down on tiny hamlets. 

Our trip ended too soon. Already, we're looking to see if we can save up some money to return, this time to the Picos de Europa, straddling Asturias and Cantabria. There is so much more to discover.


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