The people who live in small north central Spain villages are a lucky bunch. They are pretty smart too for having treasured and saved these little villages for explorers like us to see and enjoy a walk through time on their tiny roads and paths. It seems most of the Spanish towns have a befitted from its rich residents who either inherited wealth or created wealth shipping, operating iron works, mining, and yes, from slave trade. It was a serfdom society in medieval times. Important families built the towns and churches and their palaces while the poor provided labor and worked the land. Many of the great stone houses bear the emblem of the family’s coat of arms. Most country towns lie on the coast or along a fresh, flowing natural rocky stream. Granted, over the centuries most old structures and the towns themselves struggled through war or economic decline. Medieval communities invariably went through periods of great decline and decay, but eventually, the people and the governments recognized their value. They demolished very little. Old stone walls, cart paths, and bridges made from the very rocks in the soil, churches, inns, and houses were saved. The people recorded centuries of their history and cherish it today. No bright lights, no neon, and no traffic lights are found in these small towns. No one dresses in costume to recreate an event or a time. The villages are authentic, just as they are . . . no flourishment is needed and any attempt to embellish would contradict the atmosphere.
I am beside myself. I simply cannot get over the beauty of this land, the people we meet with long ancestral roots wound deep in the land we walk on, and the incredible peek into the past they give us.
Here are two more of just such towns that we’ve had a little time to visit.
Comillas
About an hour and twenty minutes west of Santander on one of the Autobuses de Cantabrica, we arrived at this wonderful little coastal town on the gigantic, sea-sized Bay of Biscay. As we approached the town the first thing that came into view was the blue water, the golden beach curving around the high cliffs above it, and a smattering of red-tiled roofs showing us the edges of the town.
In comparison to medieval towns we have visited, Comillas is a relatively young town in European terms. Its pleasant weather, tranquility, and beautiful coast attracted Spanish nobility to its shores in the early 19th century. The township is famous for having several architectural jewels built by Spanish royals in the late 1800s. The first Marquis of Sobrellano’s Palace and Chapel is the premiere attraction in this lovely town but our arrival there was on a Monday. We knew that like most museums around the world, this museum is closed on Mondays. We were prepared for that. After all, we swore off more palace visits. However, this seems to be one we might make an exception for. The building was built for D. Antonio López del Piélago y López de Lamadrid, a self-made Indian man and the first Marquis of Comillas. This neo-gothic artistically designed grand palace and chapel demands a visit. We may need to return if we can.
The marquis also planned the Antiqua Universidad Pontificia, which offered training for candidates for the priesthood from dioceses throughout Spain, Latin America, and the Philippines. In the 1970s the Vatican moved the university to Madrid. The campus now is both a museum and a university for broadscale higher education studies. The part we could visit was also closed that day.
Let’s talk about houses . . . the brilliantly, uniquely designed home, El Capricho was, however, open for tours and it was a treat to see. Designed by a then-young Antoni Gaudi of Catalonia, every detail was intricately planned to suit its owner, the bachelor brother of the Marquis’ wife. The owner never got to enjoy his lovely home; he died just before the house was completed.
Our tour of the house showed us how wonderful it must have been in its day. Its property butts up to the estate of the Marquis. In his design, Gaudi took advantage of beautiful natural materials and incorporated those into Arabic and Basque designs. Stained glass reflects pale portrayals of birds, plants, and animals. Each room has plentiful windows positioned to capture not only flowing light but flowing airs as well. His profuse decorative trims of ceramics, particularly ceramic sunflowers, are a noted Gaudi signature.
We walked to the beach and found the Paseo de los Parjaros, the gate of which (Puerto de Moros) is a replica of another Gaudi design. The pointed gate has three doors, the medium one is for pedestrians, the large one is for carriages and the circular hole above the pedestrian door is the one Gaudí called the “door of the birds”.
We had lunch on the Plaza del Corro square next to the church.
A baby, far too heavily dressed for a warm bus ride fussed and cried angrily the entire way from Santander to Comillas on our morning ride. Oh, what a coincidence! She was still overdressed, was hot, and cried the entire way on the return trip as well. Her young parents were frazzled. We were a bit stressed too.
Lierganas
A Spanish train! Not the Renfe, but the commuter train, Feve. We have been near the Feve track and heard the loud commotion. We wondered what it might be like aboard the train. Nice! Surprisingly it was nice. Spanish commuter trains certainly do not provide the smooth as-silk rides we found on French trains, but they are nice and well done nonetheless. Cheers to Spanish trains!
It was early when we arrived in Lierganes. We arrived around 10:30 am. All was quiet. The air was very chilly and damp. Things were just starting to open. The very first door we happened to pass was the Tourist Information Office. I cannot praise the people who work in these offices enough. Stan and I usually waltz in, make some kind of scene and proceed to have a wonderful time with the attendant or two attendants behind the desk. This time of year, business for them is slow; they are not stressed by lines of people with questions pouring at them –all in different languages. These days, when we arrive, they jump from their chairs, happily pull out their maps, begin drawing circler here and there and tell all the wonderful things about their town. These people know everything, they are great ambassadors for their village, town, or city and they purely live for making tourists happy. Our experience has been that they love having visitors from America. By the time we leave, we all feel like friends!
We knew the day was to be warm but we were not prepared for the chill still in the air at that hour. We stopped at a café for a coffee. How civilized! We sat among locals and possibly other tourists — however, it is late in the season for many turistas here. After our cafes and churros, it was time to walk.
The town of Lierganes is called “A village with a tale.” There is a story.
We crossed the town’s iconic stone Puente Mayor, completed in 1606. Its design set a new standard for bridges, replacing the former wooden construction. It’s one of the loveliest bridges arching over one of the loveliest rivers I have ever seen. Next to the bridge is the sculpture of the Man-fish. He’s the subject of the village’s tale. The story goes that a young boy was sent to Bilbao to attend carpentry school. He went swimming one day with amigos in Bilbao and never returned. Five years later a fish with man features or a man with fish features was found in Cadiz. That’s a long way from Bilboa. All he could say was “Lierganes.” There is more to the story but in short, he was sent back to his family in Lierganes where he lived peacefully but was never a man. Nine years later, he merely went back to the sea. Something that might have been him was spotted in the sea now and then.
We walked past the House of Cannons where canons were made until just after the Revolutionary War. We passed wonderful old houses and estates with lemon and orange trees still tended. We walked to the hill to Saint Pantaleon Church build in the 1300s. Thirteen hundreds??? That was seven hundred years ago and the church is still here. It was sealed up tight but we peeked through a tiny dark window in the door and could see shadows of the altar.
From there we walked down the hill to a newer church, Saint Peter Ad Vincula, a young church in terms of churches here. It was built in 1894 and restored a hundred years later. The church was closed but we entered the attached cementerio and lingered over the graves of families whose lives were lived in this area.
The land around Lierganes is hilly and brilliant green. The two churches we visited were set atop such hills facing each other from afar. Behind the village is a row of taller hills, picos. Had we more time (and energy) we might have walked the 7 km trail to Las Tetas – two pointed hills that resemble, of course, las tetas de una mujer. The town’s folk say it is a place to go, watch the goings on in the town, and then gossip.
Our days in this part of Northern Spain are coming to an end. Instead of flying or taking a train to Southern Spain, we are driving. Tuesday morning we will start a week-long crooked road trip west toward Santiago de Compostela and then southward to Seville, visiting a small collection of interesting towns along the way. We don’t want to miss a thing.
Comillas, Spain
