Wednesday 23rd September, 2026 – Santander, Santillana del Mar, Bilbao
Wednesday we were due to head off from Santander, to spend a couple of nights in Bilbao. First though another lovely morning made a run before breakfast was essential. I took the phone with me for once in case the sunrise was worth stopping and taking photos off. It was! The sun crept up over the Magdalena peninsula, briefly hiding behind a large cruise ship from the Fred Olsen line, and then started to climb into the sky to starts another fabulous day.
After breakfast we packed and congregated in the lobby while I went off to find the car. An attempt the evening before had been abortive because there are so many car park entrances around where I thought I’d left it that I just ended up frustrated and cross with no clearer idea of where I’d left the thing than I’d started with. This time I had my phone on me and was very grateful for its ability to find my car’s location. 10 minutes later I was back at the hotel and blocking the street while we randomly flung stuff into the top box and boot as the drivers of the vans that couldn’t get through let me know in no uncertain terms that they were not happy. Nothing I could do about it. We needed to get everything in.
We were soon on our way and as soon as we were out of town and on the motorway we stopped at the first service station to repack, placing everything as it should be now we weren’t the subject of anyone else’s ire. We knew we wanted to stop somewhere on the way to Bilbao and over a coffee on the terrace outside the service station’s restaurant we discussed the possibilities, before deciding that Santillana del Mar was a good option.
That plan almost derailed when we arrived in the town to find it heaving with coach tours, pilgrims on the Camino, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all. It was mayhem. I did eventually find a parking space, after which there was a stand-up fight with the less than user-friendly payment system before we were free to explore the medieval centre of the town. This is probably partly because Jean-Paul Sartre described Santillana as the prettiest village in Spain in his novel “La Nausée”. He might have been slightly over-egging it, but it did seem a very attractive place, despite the hordes.
Of course those hordes were also likely there to see the Cave of Altamira which is nearby. However, this UNESCO World Heritage Site is not accessible to the general public who have to make do with the National Museum and Research Center of Altamira and a replica of the cave complete with copies of the paintings. It’s a shame that the public are no longer allowed inside at all but apparently when limited access was available there was a three year waiting list, and the painting were still showing signs of damage. We decided we might go inside later but again the timings were against us so we set off to explore the town instead.
We briefly wondered about the name of the place because if there was any sea around, we couldn’t figure out where! It turns out that the Spanish refer to Santillana del Mar as the town of three lies, because it isn’t a saint (Santa), it’s definitely not flat as we would quickly find out (llana), and t definitely isn’t by the sea (Mar). The name comes from Santa Juliana whose remains are kept in the Romanesque Colegiata church and former Benedictine monastery, which we found after a walk up and then down a very hilly street from which the church could clearly be seen.
Having walked up to the viewpoint we were happy to walk back down again, though it became notably busier the closer we got to the church, which we really wanted to see.
Once again we were almost derailed by Spanish opening hours, with just five minutes before they were due to close for three half hours. We pleaded and were allowed to buy tickets and go in. I think the man on the door thought we were mad, but it was worth it.
The church started out as a monastery in 870, and is said to house the relics of Santa Juliana. It became a collegiate church in the 11th century, and a new church was built in the 12th century. It has three naves, with a dome, transept, three barrel-vaulted semi-circular apses and a tower.
There are some spectacular sculptural feature around the doorway, the many capitals, and the cloister. “Inside you can see medieval tombs and Romanesque reliefs from the 11th and 12th centuries. The main altar has an embossed silver front dating from the 17th century. Beneath this is another, in Romanesque style. The altarpiece is the work of a master artist from Burgos, dating from the beginning of the 16th century. A late-Gothic predelle was subsequently added, along with the Baroque statue of Santa Juliana between two Solomonic columns. On the main doorway there is a Byzantine pantocrator and an atrium flanked by two lions.”
We were given around 10 minutes grace to finish nosing around, and I would have liked more. On the other hand at least we had seen it. We walked back to the centre and decided we fancied a lunch break before we went on our way. We’d spotted a likely place earlier, and now found our way back to it. La Huerta del Indiano had a lovely garden with plenty of shaded tables, even if one of the trees seemed to be determined to shell anyone passing by with nuts! The waitress was quite startled by it, it’s fair to say.
We could possibly have had a better lunch but the food was perfectly decent and it was pleasant to sit and relax before we had to battle our way into Bilbao.
Once we’d finished lunch we made our way back to the car, and set off for Bilbao. The drive was relatively straightforward, though it was very busy on the road. We found ourselves using yet another relatively tight underground car park just down the block from the very pleasant and incredibly well-equipped apartment we’d rented. It was touch easier to get into though it was rather low and the scuff marks on my new shiny roofbox are testament to that!
We soon settled in to the apartment and decided that we would go for a walk to the centre of town just to get our bearing and find a vermut option, but would stay in for dinner. A trip across the road to the nearby Carrefour supermarket got me a good selection of snacks and we ate the “emergency pasta” I’d picked up in San Sebastian at the start of the trip just in case it was needed. We had a busy day scheduled for the morning, so an early night seemed sensible.
