Santander, Cantrabria

We are nearing the border with France now. But we have unfinished business in northern Spain as there are still a few places we want to visit before leaving. But the day didn't start well. Last night Angela set the alarm on her mobile phone for seven in the morning, and then turned it off! So it was nearly seven thirty before we got up. The weather was miserable, the sky threatening. But by nine thirty Margery was parked on the aire at Santander. Now breath. She had a space, and we could relax.

Time for a second breakfast for Angela whilst tears of rain persisted. Slowly the aire awoke and people began to walk out. So did we. Time to see what Santander had to offer. We headed down to the beach first.

The area looked miserable on this cold dank day. Why had we come to this miserable looking place? Deciding to give the city a chance we walked on to the cathedral stepping inside it looked interesting.

But we'd never know if it was or not. We were ushered straight out way as a mass was about to take place. Some vittals for lunch bought from a supermarket we wondered if perhaps we may need to move on from Santander. Then the clouds gave in. Making way for a perfect seaside blue sky. It was still a little cool, but we didn't care. Now we began to see the area in a new light. We walked on, stopping to take in the views across the water to the Picos Europa, now emerged from a duvet of low cloud.

The city has many sculptures, one on the waterfront of some naked boys was explained to us in Spanish by a local man. We nodded as if we understood, but we didn't, so translated the information board which told us that the boys were Raqueros who in the early 19th and 20th centuries used to hang about and dive into the waters of the bay to collect the coins that curious people threw at them. Another group of sculptures of naked men and women were particularly popular. Especially the men's penises which were shiny from too much handling. Two women, we think they were German, didn't get John's joke when he said the willy's were very popular.

Perhaps he should have said, the Wilhelm's were very popular! As we walked back to Margery, we couldn't believe we were in the Santander we'd arrived at. Beautiful aquamarine water kissed the shore.

The views now far reaching. Sorry we dissed you Santander.

Comillas, Cantrabria (Day 2)

Backed by lush green countryside, and fronted by a stunning sandy beach, Comillas is a beautiful town with stunning examples of art nouveau architecture.

However, there was one house Angela particularly wanted to visit. El Capricho, designed by the architect Anton Gaudi, he of the Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona.

Last time we were in the town we weren't in the position to pay to visit anywhere, but now things are different. Especially as we are both now classed as seniors, so entry was just five euros each. The house was amazing, dominated by it's Persian style minaret. Sadly it fell into neglect, but was fortunately rescued and restored. Tomorrow we are off to Santander. The aire there is always busy, so arrival by nine thirty in the morning is advisable. Taking advantage of the facilities on offer at our site, we showered and washed some smalls, all ready for an early start tomorrow.

Comillas, Cantrabria

After a night of rain, the surf pounding the rocks below, we awoke this morning to the most beautiful view. A sea of ​​​​turquoise blue with patches of dark navy, topped with white crested waves, sat under a thin early morning strip of white cloud which danced above the beach. A day away from the wheel had been great. Time to recharge and plan our onward journey. The forecast today was not looking good further along the coast, so we found a place to stay about three hours away. Our drive along a dual carriageway that we always call the 'top road', as it runs between the sea and the mountains of northern Spain, took us up and over the hills.

Some pretty big hills. On one, we found ourselves engulfed by a blanket, no duvet, of thick white cloud. Markers along the edge of the road read up orange or red depending on the visibility. When they changed to red and we lost sight of the van in front of us it all became a little 'hairy scary'. Descending out of the murk we were relieved it hadn't also been raining. The low cloud continued to linger, obliterating the tops of the Picos Europa that sat to put right, their dark forms spooky in the low light. We found our stop and ate lunch, both deciding it wasn't much of a place to spend a damp afternoon, and decided to set off to Comillas where there was an aire with toilets and showers for sixteen euros per night! Half the price of a campsite. That's if anything had been open. The season in this area doesn't appear to begin until June 1st. The aire was fantastic. First impressions, it seemed a little 'odd', but once Margery was settled with just six other vans we used the facilities. The showers we exceptional. Mind you any shower is to us when we happen upon one. Late evening, our stomachs full of Asturias stew we walked down to the beach.

Despite a very large sign with a red cross through the picture of a motorhome, some vans were parked up. A hire van was parked where we parked our Marge on our last visit here. We stopped and spoke with the two French girls in it. Discussing speaking different languages. Portuguese is almost impossible, Spanish we probable know a dozen words, and French, of which Angela has a good enough grasp to get by. One of the girls made us laugh when she commented that she doesn't speak to French people outside of France, as she can speak to them back in her homeland.

Now late, darkness falling we photographed a surprising sunset over the town. Angry black clouds threatening a deluge, we made tracks to return to Margery quickly.