< Norte Day 9 — Norte Day 11 > < Norte Index >
30 kilometers, 7 hours, passing through the large city of Santander. This beautiful port city has amazing old, contemporary, and unique architecture. Other towns and villages passed through were Galizano, Somo, Peñacastillo, and Mompía.
Last night at the albergue, there we bunked and dined with 46 pilgrims from 14 different countries.
Ernesto, who owns the albergue, and operates it with many volunteers, was born on the site, in the original house; he was 82 years old at the time of my visit and still going strong.
In his life, he had been a priest, community and labor organizer, and held other positions, in many different places. Mostly, he was a traveler and adventurer.
His Land Rover, parked in the back of the property, had over 700,000 miles. It had traveled on four different continents. He had taken 80,000 pictures during those travels. The slides reside in the library upstairs. Some are digitized. After many years of traveling, working, and organizing, he returned home to the same house. All of his family was gone by then.
With the help of many volunteers, they built everything there at the albergue—thirty-eight years of work. There were 70 beds in multiple rooms and different buildings. Plus, the art room where Ernesto told his story and an Ermita (chapel) where an evening spiritual gathering is held each night.
Our dinner that night: a hearty squash soup and a simple but fantastic paella, and wine.
I slept in a room of fifteen beds with a dozen other people. One man—the farthest person from me—snored all night. Earplugs helped.
This day, after Breakfast we headed out into a gray, threatening day. Rain filled the forecast. But this turned out as my best day yet. Santander was crowded and busy, but I made it through quickly. The rest of the day was magical. Clifftop trails, long beaches, and a ferry ride into the city. After that, more rolling countryside and farmlands. Only a few minutes of rain the entire day. That afternoon, at Boo, the sky was sunny and bright. Temps had been—to this point—consistently in or around the high teens (60s F).
At the albergue I had planned to stop at for the night in Boo, I ran into Hendrik. We were the first there. This place, the Albergue Piedad, a private hostel, was super clean and modern. They also would provide dinner if you liked. We did, and it was very fresh and good.
547 kms and twenty-one days of walking left to go. (But we were thinking of shortcutting 7 kms of bog the next day with a two-minute train ride from the station across the street from where we were staying.)