First off, it’s not by the sea!  Much to Roger’s consternation.  Santillana del Mar lies about six kilometers inland from the sea – and it’s an extremely pleasant walk to get to it.  Santillana is about a 90 minute drive from Bilbao, in Cantabria – land of the anchovy and cattle farming.

An abbreviation of ‘Santa Juliana’, whose remains apparently lie in the town church which was part of a Benedictine monastery, Santanilla is firmly on the Spanish (and South American) tourist trail.  It also seems to be a popular place for weddings – we saw a very sparkly one, with vivid pink bridesmaid dresses and bright blue confetti.  Far be it for me to judge, but the confetti was still there the next day.  It would appear that anyone can get married in any church – there is no requirement to have any link whatsoever to the town or the congregation.

The church is Romanesque rather than Gothic and quite hard to get into (there was a security guard on the door for a while).  Visiting seems confined to the cloisters – having seen quite a few, we gave them a miss.

There are many reasons to visit other than its prettiness:  firstly, it has a ‘famous’ ( or infamous) ‘son’ whose father was a senior Inquisitor during the Spanish Inquisition.  As a result, they have a Museum of Torture (we didn’t go) and an exhibition at his palace (Palacio de los Venardes) which focuses on Medieval life – ‘a fully immersive experience’.  We gave this a miss too, feeling confident that somehow the Inquisition would make an appearance.  Another big claim to fame is the close location of the Altamira cave, which is an important reference point for prehistoric art.  There is a museum quite close to Santillana – no, we didn’t go there either!

It is a town preserved in aspic (Roger’s phrase), ‘Disney-fied’ (my phrase).  The locals realised they were onto a good tourist shtick years ago, and the result is a perfect medieval town, with very little modern development around it.  The result is a village that feels a bit like a film set (it’s that perfect) and a lot of day-trippers, coach trips, group trips and tourists generally.  It’s a town given over to tourism.

When I say ‘very little modern development’, I really do mean VERY little!  From the window of our hotel on the main street,  fields were apparent. 

An older  memeber of staff said he grew up in Santanilla with cows wandering around the streets.  He also reported that there had been a recent plan to build a modern housing development close by which was firmly kaiboshed by the town.

Certainly when we walked to the sea,  starting from the main square, it took less then two minutes of walking to be out in fields.

On the more northerly, coastal route to Santiago de Compostela, there are many signpost for the Camino.  We were mistaken for Camino walkers a few times, with the ‘Buen Camino’ making us feel a bit like charlatans.  So well signposted is the Camino that we followed those signs for slightly too long, ending up a good 20 minutes off our own route – no big problem except for the hills.

The walk was stunning – blue skies, bright greens, lush surroundings, a cool breeze and snow-covered mountains in the distance.  Part of the walk was on quiet roads, some was on unmade roads, some was through forest and a small amount was through fields or on a slightly busier road.  Much of it was either uphill or downhill; not steep, but long stretches which challenged my legs and cardio fitness.

Early on, after leaving the town and walking uphill through fields, we got to a high point where we could see both the snow-covered mountains and the sea.

Varying between bushy fields and open grassland, the road dipped and curled between gentle hills – at times there were animals but mostly the fields were empty.

After an enexpected detour due to the lack of signage on our route, we recovered our way and walked past a lovely farm where we were joined by a delightful companion – who would not go home!

Eventually we got to the sea – and it was worth every detour and ‘discussion’ over interpretations of directions.

The path – an unmade road – ran above the coastline, with cattle grazing on either side.  At one point I sat and waited for Roger to pursue a spur to a viewpoint and our trusty companion sat by me, barking at any other dog that came into view.  It was sweet but embarrassing – I kept on having to explain that it wasn’t my dog, keenly aware of my lack of vocabulary!

Green and blue contrasted dark grey, and the wild-flower field was an unexpected bonus.

Turning inland, we lost the dog, walking uphill to join the main road for a short distance, then turning into a forest:  steeper but much more pleasant.

At the very top, you could still see the sea and, looking south, inland, the mountains reappeared.

Then downhill, into Santanilla del Mar and a well earned beer after about 14 kilometers in the sunshine.

A glorious walk to a glorious coastline, despite Santanilla not really being ‘del Mar’.