Northern Spain, or
Green Spain,
is not usually where the tourists go, and certainly not where
most people choose to buy property. This could be a mistake,
but I suppose it depends on what you want to find.
The sea, and indeed the weather, is not so hot as it is down
on the Costa del Sol. There is more rain, and the countryside
is more like green England.
There are the
Picos de Europa, which are steep and
rugged, and have snow on them during the winter, and of course
the
Pyrenees are not far away.
The bays and charming little coves are really sweet, and I
would certainly recommend the area for a holiday expedition.
Cantabria is the name given to the strip of land
between the Cantabrian Sea, otherwise known as the Bay of
Biscay, and the Cantabrian Mountains in
northern Spain.
Biscay is a corruption of the Spanish word
Vizcaya,
meaning a mountain or cliff, and probably relates to the way
the
Picos de Europa dominate the northern coast of
Spain
facing the bay.
Following the collapse of the Roman Empire,
Cantabria
regained its independence from the rule of the Visigoths, and
remained independent until the Arab invasion. In the year 714,
a mixed Arab/Barber army invaded the upper valleys of the Ebro
and succeeded in capturing Amaya, then the Cantabrian capital.
However, they did not get beyond the mountains, and this strip
of
Spain was the one area the moors did not manage to
settle.
When I last travelled along this northern coastline with Julie
we stopped in the little town of
Castro Urdiales,
which is Roman in origin and was originally called
Portus
Amanus. In AD 74 a Roman colony was established under
the name
Flaviobriga, during the reign of Vespasian,
probably to mine the abundant iron ore in the area.
The chief industries now are mining, fishing, and the
preservation of fish in oil, especially sardines and
anchovies.
Many people from Bilbao and other parts of the Basque Country
and Cantabria as well as Northern Spain in general keep summer
homes in the town.
By its name I assumed it was an old Roman town. The centre is
certainly old, but not much of the very old is left. There is
a charming small inner harbour filled with the usual bobbing
boats, but one or two of the ancient houses in the suburbs are
rather fine villas.
All along the north coast of
Cantabria are the
foothills of the
Picos de Europa, covered in lush
green, with small valleys funnelling into the sea; small
inlets where the sea brushes in beside the hills, and, as it
retreats, leaves a bank of sand overshadowed by woodland
clinging to the steep sides of the hills.
Inlet after inlet cuts the coastline. Here and there are
villages, usually set back from the coast behind a rise in the
land for protection from the winter winds. Farmers are cutting
small patches of grass. Behind are wife and children with
rakes, collecting the new-mown grass into rows, and then into
small domes.
Down on the beach another farmer is raking up the seaweed left
by the retreating tide and bundling it into a cart. The
tractor tows the cart up a perilous track, and the seaweed is
dumped in what look like giant molehills on the fields as
fertilizer. This is then spread slowly with a long-handled
rake wielded by a farm-hand with a bent back.
Further along the coast is a large valley where the river runs
from tiny stream to estuary over the space of half a mile. Set
in behind the trees, and in amongst the folds in the rock, are
secret houses.
The sun is shining, the beaches are empty, the leaves glisten
with the drops from yesterday's rain, the fields are green,
there are cows with massive horns, farmers are tilling tiny
plots, and up in the sky a few white clouds define the clear
pale blue.
Further west are the high mountains of the
Picos de Europa,
with snow shining on them. The mountains are a jagged lot, and
all around them are the lesser mounds of the Cantabrian
mountain range, which seems to stretch almost from the
Pyrenees
to the edge of
Asturias. To the north is the blue calm
sea, and dozens of little bays. For every steep valley that
cuts into the foothills, there is a small rushing stream
tumbling down the rocks and fanning out onto a small flat lea
before being claimed by the waves toppling onto a crescent
sandy beach.