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| MAGDELENA PALACE |
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| I FELT A RIGHT TIT DOING THIS |
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| OUR PENSION (RIGHT) OVERLOOKED BY THE LOCAL CHURCH |
I had wondered if we might encounter choppy seas as we crossed the Bay of Biscay, and I found myself continually humming the Norma Waterson version of a folk song that goes by that name.
As it happened, the sea was almost as smooth as ice, ensuring a nausea-free voyage and a clear-headed start to our first morning in the Cantabrian city of Santander. The weather was stunningly warm, so after the obligatory al fresco coffee and rubbing-on of sun lotion, we set off along the coast towards the Magdelena Peninsula. The city is blessed with many beautiful buildings in spite of the 1941 fire that destroyed a large central part of it.
Our coastal walk took us past some beautiful beaches. We took pictures when we reached the Magdelena Palace which, between 1913 and 1930, was the summer home of King Alfonso XIII and his Queen Victoria Eugenia. There were many more things to see on the Peninsula including seals basking in the warm sun and numerous large metal sculptures.
We kept to the coast until we reached Faro de Cabo Major (a lighthouse), then headed back to the shopping centre and our hostel via the sports arena, a metallic slug-shaped building somewhat remeniscent of Newcastle upon Tyne's Sage Gateshead.
Whilst reading on the bed at the hostel, my glasses suddenly sprung apart and the right lens dropped out. Disaster! I guessed what had happened and froze whilst swivelling my left eye about trying to spot the tiny screw that held things together. There it was lying on my chest! Eventually I managed to refit the screw using a penknife; then, after checking the other screws, I dabbed a bit of glue onto the heads of all of them to make sure they continued to stay put (it's amazing what I carry in my rucksack).
That evening we visited the Cathedral Iglesia del Cristo, a building which, contrary to the Tardis, was much smaller inside than it appeared to be on the outside.
Our subsequent efforts to locate a decent supper were tinged with disappointment. After taking considerable time to find a restaurant which served something Chris was prepared to eat, the chicken casserole they eventually served her could have been more accurately described as cold chicken balls in lukewarm gravy (read into that what you will). Moreover, they completely forgot about my order! We kicked up a fuss and left paying for the drinks only. Fortunately we had enough picnic food back at the hostel to fend of imminent starvation.
Next morning we rose early and made a satisfactory breakfast out of our remaining picnic food. Having settled the hostel bill we headed for the Estacion de Autobuses to catch our coach to Irun. I had booked the front two seats for this 135 mile journey which made it feel like a sightseeing trip.
Irun was bigger than I had expected, but our accommodation in Pension Bidasoa was just a few minutes walk from the bus station. It wasn't quite 2.00pm and we were unexpectedly early, but the staff quickly had the room cleaned so we could leave our bags and head out to explore the town.
On the way to the local information office we discovered that we had accidentally walked a short section of the Camino de Santiago, which made us feel rather holy. To reinforce these positive feelings, we paid a visit to the local Ecological Park.
During the evening we commiserated with the locals as the Netherlands inflicted a crushing 5:1 defeat on Spain in the World Cup.