Etapa 5: Laredo - Güemes

It is always a blessing to find coffee in the morning.


Cantabria is well marked with these tiles.

Slept well in the convent with the sound of rain and slightly dampened fiesta out our small windows. Our clothes were all still wet, oh well, no choice but to jam them in plastic bags and hope the clothes we wore would dry from body heat. The plan was to walk the 4K of beach boardwalk to the end of the peninsula, which is where the ferry would take us across to Santoña. However, when we spotted a delivery man carrying a tray of fresh croissants into a cafe, we were compelled to follow. While we took cafe and breakfast outside, a pilgrim in very short shorts, with shiny black braids and a big smile greeted us but quickly took off to catch the first ferry, which she told us was at 9:00am. We followed a few minutes later, also wanting to catch the first boat, which we did, barely. It was not at all what we had imagined, a tiny fishing boat that beached itself and left out a gangplank for us to board. The whole trip took about 5 minutes and we landed in Santoña with the same girl, and two crusty old pilgrims, the French from the day before and a German man. We searched for the Ayuntamiento (city hall) to get our sellos with the old men, who told us they had been walking since Switzerland.


Catching the ferry to Santoña

We took a long, not very pretty walk beside the wall of an imposing prison. Near the beach the road went left, the Camino went right toward the sand. Our guide said to "scramble over the rocks of the promontory as best you can." We thought this meant to go around the sharp rocks at water's edge. In fact, we were to climb the massive rock mountain on an extremely narrow trail that was slippery, steep and bordered by sharp thorns and nettles. We became the mountain goats of the previous days, until Kirsten fell into a nettle bush, luckily only receiving one gnarly scratch on the leg. This was very challenging, but at the same time uplifting. We felt great. Neither of us had ever imagined doing anything like this. The descent was the same as the climb, in reverse. When we reached the white sand beach below we sat on a rock and attended to our feet before taking a long walk on the beach into Noja.


Find the path in this picture.


Always climbing. This is one prickly path.


This is hard work.


A celebratory self-portrait on the beach at Noja


The arrow directs us to walk along the beach.

Here we passed a cafe where a group of young pilgrims were smoking, including the French girl, no longer crying. After many uneventful hours through small villages, new housing developments, and construction sites, we finally reached San Miguel de Meruelo. The guide said there was an excellent restaurant in this town where we had been excited to have lunch. We asked a local to direct us to it, but he shook his head and said we were better off eating in Güemes "30 minutes" more walking. He even offered us a ride, but we declined. He did tell us a faster way to get to Güemes, but on the way Kirsten had an allergy attack that left her temporarily blinded in one eye, emergency Benadryl. The walk was actually more than an hour, up hill past cut grass with the wafting odor of cow dung, perfect for allergies.

We entered through the far end of Güemes, found the church - always marking the way on the Camino - and the restaurant that the man had recommended, Bar Luis, was directly across the street. We were thirsty and famished, cañas solved the first problem, the menu del dia took care of the second. Tremendous food: lentils a la montaña, lentils with chorizo and murcilla (blood sausage), ensalada, merluza and lomo. We were fortified for the difficult final hill to the albergue.


One of the best meals of the trip. Bar Luis in Güemes.




Our own casita!

We were greeted by Paco, a ebulient volunteer, as are all the people work there. He showed us to a little bungalow with two bunks, our own room again!, and told us that dinner would be served to all the pilgrims promptly at 8:30. Dinner had a convivial and fraternal atmosphere among the pilgrims and staff punctuated by lively conversations in many languages.


Pilgrim dinner. Sabine is center and Kirsten is on the right.


We use the term crusty lovingly. French Alain 75, German guy 73 with heart problems, and the girl who directed us to the ferry.


Our Basque friends

Don Ernesto, the founder and patriarch of the albegue gave an explanation of the history of the albergue and offered his philosophy of the "University of Life," which he asked Carlos to translate into English, and the other Kirsten who is German to translate from English to French. Just to give you an idea of how awesome this man is, he made his way through all of Latin America from Spain in a rowboat with four other men, finishing in Patagonia. He had also worked on a pirate fishing ship in North Africa for many months. The love and care with which we were all treated was inspiring, and a good reminder of the spirit of the Camino.


The incomparable Don/Padre Ernesto