Northern Way:
                                         Irun to Santiago de Compostela
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Let's see the Cantabrian Sea...
            
In April 2015 we started our new journey. This time, it was the Northern Way, or Coastal Way, because it runs along the Cantabrian Sea, the Basque Country, Cantabria, Asturias, entering Galicia. Beauty is indescribable, but the hardness of the path is in proportion to its beauty. It is a much emptier path. With that, we had the opportunity to walk with some people from the place, and the friendships, with the other hikers, became closer, because we always stopped in the same places. This is the advantage of traveling on paths that are not too busy.
            
We left Irún, on the France/Spain border, for San Sebastian (Donostia for the Basques), Zarautz, Deba, and Markina (Xémein). These were the first four days, always seeing the sea... Going up, up, up... Down, down, down. Right away we realized how difficult this path would be.
            
Two facts marked us in these four days of walking. The first was the hailstorm we faced from Donostia to Zarautz. A lot of huge hail fell on our heads until a person from the place drove by and helped us. We were not far from our destination, maybe an hour and a half of walking, but there was no way to hide from the rain and it was dangerous to walk. Just remembering, these other paths to Santiago have less infrastructure than the French Way.
            
We got into a very old car, with so much junk inside, but at least we saved ourselves from the stones in the head. Halfway through, we saw a Korean woman, alone that we had met earlier. We asked the boy to stop, but there was no way for her to get in the car. There was nothing else inside that "sardine can". We moved on, and remorse haunted us. Then commenting to her, he smiled and told us: "- don't worry. I survived." And he hugged us.
            
Two days later, while walking from Deba to Markina (Xeméin), we stopped at the Ermita Calvário da Maia. A kitten came to cuddle us. Then a dog appeared, running in front of us, looking like it wanted to show something. Suddenly, another huge white dog also appeared and stood next to us. He followed us for 5 km. At a certain moment, we were already worried because the dog would not stop following us and, when crossing a gate, we left him on the other side, without him being able to cross and come with us. We were very sorry, but we could no longer continue with him. But we saw that the dog was trying to get under a barbed wire. We ran back and opened the gate.
            
Later on, he was our guardian angel and protector. It was when we passed a pasture with many wild bulls. The gate was open and one of them escaped. He was outside. We stood there scared and wondering what to do because the bull was right in our way. Suddenly, our guardian angel stood in front of the bull so that we could pass.
            
We continued walking and the dog followed us. At a certain point, we stopped at a small bar in a village. Already very worried, we asked a lady if she knew that dog. She said no, but that she would call the police to identify him. The dog lay down and, from afar, watched us while we had a coffee... Then he got up, turned around, and disappeared on the way...
 
In Guernica de Pablo Picasso and or Father Ernesto...
            
We arrive at Guernica, the city that gave its name to one of Pablo Picasso's famous works. This work, painted in oil in 1937, was created in response to the bombing of the city. It was a "declaration of war against war and a manifesto against violence."
            
In the following days, we met friends along the way and had the opportunity to get to know them better. Sol (Korean), Frank (German), Anthony (an Englishman, raised in Asturias), a local Spaniard, and another there, who were teaching us a little more about the region and its customs. We passed through Lezama, before arriving in Bilbao.
            
Bilbao is a beautiful port city. The Guggenheim Museum is one of the most visited places in Spain. Its project aimed to revitalize the city and, today receives visitors of all nationalities. From Bilbao we went to Portugalete, crossing the river in a kind of "suspended ferry boat". On the other side, the "rolling ramps" on the way up its steep streets were a balm for our tiredness.
 
We started to leave the Basque Country. We entered Castro-Urdiales, already in Cantabria, then Laredo and, in the middle of the way, we met Eduardo, a local, who suggested that we accompany him along a path that was not the one we had planned. We follow Eduardo and we don't regret it. It was a great hike with a beautiful landscape.
            
The next day, towards Güemes, the path was very different. To move forward it was necessary to make a boat crossing. On this crossing, we met Othman, a Swiss who had a twin brother. Amazingly, his brother was a dentist and lived in Belo Horizonte. The affinity was instantaneous. We exchanged phone numbers, but when we returned to Belo Horizonte we never found the dentist's brother. But this was due to our carelessness...
            
Well, we already knew that the way to Güemes was very long. We got off the boat talking to Cindi, an American from Ann Arbor, a place we used to go shopping at Cabela's when we lived in Ohio. But a very strange fact happened. We missed the original path but found another much shorter path to Güemes, which was not on any of the maps we had.
            
Finally, we arrived in a special village, with very special people. It was Sunday and the mass was ending. We entered the church and Father Ernesto came to talk to us. We took the stamp on our credentials and the priest asked if we would stay in the church hostel. We said that we had already made an appointment with Maria and Thomas to stay at their house. As everyone there was acquaintances, I said that we would be well accommodated. And, he invited us to dinner at the hostel. We accepted and went to the inn.
            
The place, the house, and the couple were all very cool. We couldn't have made a better choice. We were already greeted with a very cold beer. We stayed there talking until they took us to the hostel for dinner.
            
Father Ernesto, a sympathizer of "Liberation Theology", was a friend of the Catalan bishop who had lived in Mato Grosso (Pedro Casaldáliga) since 1968. The priest was a compulsive and nomadic traveler like us. I had already visited Brazil. And like us, he had a Land Rover Defender, Series I, very old and very well preserved. Together with other travelers we heard stories, saw photos, and talked until very late. It was after midnight when we returned to the inn.
            
The next day, very early, we woke up without any fatigue, had breakfast, said goodbye, and went on happy for so much affection from those people, from that place in the middle of nowhere called Güemes.
 
Santander without shine...
            
We continue to Santander in a beautiful landscape. We met Fernando, an Argentine, and José, a Spaniard from Ceuta, who lived in Algeciras. José entertained us with his stories about Andalusia. As on this path, the options for stops for a coffee were few, we spent the day walking looking for a bar. But when we saw a village, the signs, which indicate the way, always pointed to the opposite side. The Argentine cursed a lot, which made us laugh a lot.
            
To get to Santander we had to cross the bay in a boat. So the only concern was to get to Somo in enough time not to miss the boat. As this path had few hikers, we relaxed with the reservations of inns, hostels, etc. We had a list of places to stay, but we always called nearby or when we arrived at the place. And it was no different in Santander, which was a big city.
            
It was very cold and the weather rainy, when we crossed the bay of Santander. In front of the port, there were restaurants, bars, and a market. Anyway, it was our time to find a place to spend the night. Everything was crowded. Finally, we found an inn, not far from there. After coming and going through the adjacent blocks, we found that street. Arriving near the hotel, we saw that it was a very, very old building. There was a very strange woman at the window who, when she saw us, immediately shouted: "- this is it... it's here...". We couldn't give up.
            
We went upstairs and... Damn, it was really bad. But where would we stay, if all the places we looked for were full? Only the very starred hotels and that slumpage remained.
            
The woman made the recommendations and gave the keys. There was no one at the inn or in the building. We spread our sleeping bags on the bed and "listo". We took a shower more or less, in an improvised bathroom inside the room, and went to see a little of the city.
            
Before returning, we stopped by a supermarket. We felt that all that joy of the previous day and the walk was over when we arrived in Santander. We were followed by the security guard inside the supermarket. We had a small backpack, which we always carried with documents and money, and we put the groceries. The cashier asked to search the backpack. And the security guard next to him. Anger rose... After a lot of fighting, we almost ended up in the police. We just didn't go because Helinho thought it would be too much stress and that we would go through an even more unpleasant situation. We left, pissed, and still had to spend the night in the empty slum, which looked more like a "whorehouse".
            
I'm glad it was empty because we didn't know what kind of guests would be sleeping next to us... Santander owed us... One day we will have to go back to get rid of the bad impression.
 
Spotting the Picos de Europa and a strange hiker...
            
Leaving behind the setbacks of Santander, the path was still beautiful. And, the highlight was seeing the Picos de Europa. Amid the green landscape of the forests and the bluish-green waters of the sea, rise the Picos de Europa, a limestone mountain formation, that reaches altitudes above 2,500 meters, with permanent snow.
            
From Santander to Santillana del Mar, although we walked on flatter terrain, the distance was long, more than 40 km. Arriving in Santillana, we stayed in a small inn that was practically a museum. Super cool, just like every small medieval village. Meeting our walking companions we realized that we were very well, after 12 days of walking, without blisters or pain, unlike some of them.
            
So, we went the next day, on a beautiful morning, to Comilla, another interesting little town that coexists, harmoniously, with medieval, baroque, and modernist buildings, by the sea. The next day, we went to Unquera, and on the way, we were amazed by the fantastic scenery of the snowy peaks. Unquera is a small village on the edge of an inlet of the sea. From there we start to leave Calabria and enter the Principality of Asturias.
            
Our fifteenth day started with rain and a steep climb. The landscape was bucolic. Halfway through, we stopped for a coffee at an inn, right at the intersection of the "Camiño del Norte" and a GR (GR, in Spain, Gran Recorrido. They are numbered trails that cross not only Spain but all of Europe). Advised by the owners of the inn, we followed the GR. The path was a little longer, but it was more beautiful and we would both arrive at Lhanes, our next stop.
            
The next day, we went to Ribadesella. In the middle of a very narrow trail, we met a hiker and stopped to talk. He had a very strange conversation. I wanted to know how much we were spending, how much money we had... He said he found it strange to see a woman walking. In short, very different from all the people we had talked to until then. We didn't go much with the guy's face. We don't talk and try to walk faster and distance ourselves. I think it was the first time we were very bothered by someone. We don't know what his intention was. Later, talking to other people who met him, the feeling they also had matched ours. After that, we didn't see him again, but we were sure that our distrust was a warning sign.
            
When we walk our senses are sharpened to observe, admire, feel... In short, to experience the path. And, any dissonant situation is a warning sign. Certainly, that is what happened.
 
Lost pilgrims...
            
In addition to leaving Cantabria behind, we also leave the month of April. And spring was already beginning to give the air of grace. Despite the rains, the first days of walking in Asturias, flowers popped everywhere.
            
On the way out of Ribadesella to Colunga, the scenery was beautiful with a thin layer of fog covering the river. On that day we met several people again, a Dutch couple, a German couple, an Argentinean, and a Spaniard from Ceuta. We took advantage of the walk to have fun, tell jokes, and laugh. That could be one of the last times all together, on that path. After Colunga would come to Villaviciosa, a junction of the Camiño del Mar and Camiño Primitivo. Some would continue along the coast, arriving in Gijón. Others would go to the Camiño Primitivo, passing through Oviedo. We didn't know yet what we were going to do. We let time pass to decide later.
 
Some people said that the Primitive Path was hard but very beautiful. The one in Costa, on the other hand, did not change the landscape much until it entered Galicia. At that time, our concern was not to have to face too much mud. Asturias is very humid and the last rains left a lot of mud on the way.
 
We arrived the next day in Villaviciosa and it was time for the decision. We slept, still not knowing where we were going. But in the morning we both woke up very determined to continue along the Northern Way. We reasoned that, if we followed the Primitive, we would not return to continue the Northern Way. That's when we decided that, next year, we would return to Spain to do the much talked about, beautiful, and hard Primitive Way.
            
We went to Gijón, a big city, but very beautiful. Gijón is one of those places that we want to stay a little longer and then come back... But the next day we went ahead, to Avilês, which was 22 km away.
 
We left early, as usual. The weather was pleasant. We stopped on the way to stamp the credential, which was on a small table outside a house. We move forward. At a certain moment, we thought that the signage was badly done, but we continued on our way. We arrived at the top of a mountain, in an area of eucalyptus reforestation. The landscape was always the same. The signage disappeared completely. We started to descend the mountain. We saw a few houses.
 
We stopped and asked if we were too far from Avilês. A lady and a gentleman, very old, told us that we were too far away and pointed to the mountain, saying that we would have to cross it. It didn't make sense because we were coming from there. We continued walking and saw a boy on a motorcycle. We asked him how far he was from Avilês. He replied that it would be about 26 km. We didn't believe it because Avilés was 22 km from Gijón. How could we be 26 km from Avilês? The clarification came later. We were close to Gijón...
            
When we stamp our credentials, we lose the correct signage and follow another sign from the reforestation company. We cross the reforested mountain and return to Gijón... In other words, we made a circular path and the way would be to start all over again. The next day, we went to Avilês, for the second time...
 
Master Mr. Higino...
            
This time it worked and we arrived in Avilês. The city is very nice, but we made a mistake, this time instead of staying. Very bad hotel, not to mention other things. But the next day was compensated with a walk that started with light rain, a reunion with the Spaniard from Ceuta, the Argentine, and a German who in the same way appeared to disappear again. Only we decided to stay in Muros de Nalón.
            
We stayed in an excellent inn. We washed all the clothes, sneakers, and backpacks and put everything to dry in the sun. We stayed there, lizarding on a sun lounger, on a huge lawn with a beautiful view. We only went out to do some quick shopping, in a supermarket. We had everything we needed. It was a very pleasant day.
We followed, after a delicious breakfast. We left very clean, but the road was very muddy. When we arrived in Oviñana, the address of the inn was in a bar covered with a tarp and full of men. We stopped at the door and didn't want to believe that this was where we would stay. But a nice lady came to welcome us. Only then did we understand that our accommodation was in an apartment, in the building next door. Everything was very clean, with a balcony from where we enjoyed the green around and drank our wine very quietly...
            
The next day, foot on the road, again. This time, we met a gentleman who was from an association of the Camino de Santiago in Asturias, who recommended us to stay in Cadavedo, near Villa de Moros. Arriving closer, we met another gentleman who offered his inn for us to stay. We decided to go there, but the place had nothing around. We commented that we would need to go to a supermarket, which was promptly provided. We went by car and then settled in a super beautiful place, with a stove, refrigerator, and everything else we needed for a great dinner.
 
From there, we went to Luarca. On the way, when we crossed a thicket, passing under fallen trees, mud, and broken branches, we saw, from afar, a gentleman looking in our direction. We thought he was the owner of the farm we invaded. We arrived, a little suspicious, when you came to talk to us. His name is Mr. Higino.
 
He must have been close to 80 years old. He asked why we were passing through the bush. And we said we were following the signs. He laughed and said, "What stupid people. The path up is much better". And it was the purest truth.
 
We continued walking with him he said that every day, before breakfast, he walks 5 km to have a coffee in a village and then returns the 5 km to "desayunar" at home. He works in the fields, including on Sundays. Around 4 pm he goes to the beach, which is about 3 km away. We did the math of how much this gentleman walked per day and we understood Mr. Higino's disposition and, consequently, his good humor.
            
Each one makes the path as they want. We make our way by talking and, above all, listening to and following the good examples of the people we meet. That is why to this day we prioritize, whenever we can, a good walk. We followed the good example and advice of "our master Mr. Higino".
 
The three miserly witches...
 
On our twenty-fifth day of hiking, we arrived in Navia, the last city of Asturias. There we have already seen the traditional stone houses of Galicia and heard about Galician. Halfway through, we were approached by a reporter from a TV station, who asked what we thought of the sudden change in the weather. Helinho did very well in answering. This is because Galician is very close to Portuguese. Now, if it aired, we never knew...
            
We continue our way along the coast. The next day, we arrived in Lourenzá. Upon arriving at the inn, in the middle of the afternoon, we smelled the delicious smell that came from the owner's confectionery. We stopped to introduce ourselves and were greeted with the delicious treats.
            
From Lourenzá our next destination was Abadin. This was a tough day. Of the 25 km of walking, half was only uphill. Despite this, walking a few kilometers with a nearby resident, a lot of fun, helped to overcome this hard path. Then we continued to be distracted by a docile horse here, another dog there... until we reached Abadin, a very small village, with a traditional Galician landscape.
 
Our next stop was Villalba. We arrived in the city and, on the main street, we saw an inn, "Pensión Andoriña". From the door, we saw that the floor was all in mosaic, in a beautiful design. We entered and a very old lady welcomed us. There, they sold liqueurs and almond pies. The smell of toasted almonds, a little sweet, was tempting. We didn't think twice and decided we would stay there. We paid the daily rate and the elderly lady wrote it down in a huge accounting book. She called one of the sisters, the eldest, who was in the kitchen roasting the almonds. They were 3 very old sisters. Despite her age, this lady who accompanied us to the room was very smart. He went upstairs quickly and said he would give us a large room in front.
            
The room was large and front. The furniture was their age, very old. We asked for the WiFi password and she asked what it was. Oh, okay... Think. When she left, we went to inspect the room better. The bathroom was not a perfection of cleanliness. Under the bed, there was a huge spider web. We were uncomfortable and decided to take a walk and think about what to do.
            
We were sorry to leave the boarding house. We think of the three old ladies... That's when we saw, on the corner, a brand new hotel and decided to ask how much the daily rate was and if it had room. We told him that we were already staying at the Pensión Andoriña, and the owner of the hotel let out a laugh. She said that the "three distinguished ladies" were wealthy, owned many buildings, and were very miserly. He always charged more. So, we decided to move to the hotel.
 
We thought about how to do it and decided to tell the "miserly ladies" that we would not stay in the city because it was still early, and that we found friends who convinced us to continue walking with them, blah, blah, blah... They got very angry, they transformed. The three of them met in the kitchen. They came back and said they would not return the money. We used all our arguments, until they accepted, upon payment of a fine.
            
We had no alternative but to accept the condition. We put the backpacks on our backs and they went to the door to make sure we were leaving. We had to be firm and take a huge turn to get into the other hotel. From then on, we could no longer pass in front of the boarding house, which was on the main street. We spent the day hiding from them... And all the time we had the impression that the three of them were spying on us... That's what happens when you lie! That's what you can do by appearances. The three good ladies were nothing more than three miserly witches who crossed our path...
 
The end of the Northern Way...
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The thirtieth day of walking. We went to Baamonde, crossing farms, with some very docile dogs for company. We met again, in Sobrado dos Monxes, our English friend, whom we had not seen since the first days of walking. The next day, it was very difficult to get out of bed. We were very tired. But it was time to move on. We knew that we were already close to achieving our first goal, Santiago de Compostela.
            
In the first kilometers of this path, we met a Spaniard and a Korean who, while we were ordering a "café con leche" already had a jug of wine. It was the Spanish who taught us that "con pan y vino se anda el camiño", which we never forget.
            
And we continued our walk, until, before arriving in Arzua, where the Northern Way meets the French Way, we saw the "km zero" totem. There was endless sadness... We stopped there and cried. It felt like a farewell. An ending. A longing. A desire that hadn't ended so suddenly.  From then on we would walk with many other people. As in life, we walk with and among many people, each with their own thoughts and goals. We continue, gathering or repelling, but going... There was no way to stop time. That's right. We faced it and went ahead.
 
The next day, we went with all the "pilgrims", "bicigrinos" and "turisgrinos" of the French Way, towards Pedrouzo, our old and good known last city before Santiago de Compostela. We remember that the previous year we were part of that mass that was still euphoric. But this time, it was different. We didn't want to arrive quickly. We went slowly. We left Pedrouzo early, to spend the night in the forest because it was magical. When we left the forest, a horizon opened, with the day dawning so beautiful and unforgettable... And we went slowly. Before arriving at Monte do Gozo, we stopped at a café. There we met a French woman who told us about a new path, Le Puy. We found it interesting and kept the tip.
            
Either way, getting to Santiago de Compostela is always a thrill. And this time, the emotion was when we saw a hiker, whom we had met days before, on a very hard, really difficult path. He walked looking like he was having a lot of difficulty. We worried and, although tired, we offered our help to carry his backpack. He looked at us, very smiling, with a well-rested air, and said: "Gracias. I'm good, very good". Only then did we see that he had a serious physical problem, but that it was not an obstacle. He wanted to keep walking, by himself, without help.
            
There we conclude that "walking" is not our merit. Therefore, when someone asks us how we manage to walk more than a thousand kilometers, we answer that we just have to have the will, take the first step, and move on. We did it. Everyone can do it if they want to.
            
We arrived in Santiago de Compostela once again. We got emotional again, we fulfilled our rituals in the Cathedral. But this time, Santiago was not the end of the road...
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Walking to the "End of the Earth".
            
Relieved of the tensions and confusion of feelings of arriving in Santiago, the next day, very early, we left to walk to Finisterre, passing through Muxia. The city was still empty. From afar we can see the Cathedral, from another perspective.
            
Little by little we noticed other people who, like us, were not yet ready to stop walking. As I said before, this was a Celtic way. The destination of the "pilgrims" was Finisterre (or Fisterra). The path meant the journey of the sun, which went from east to west of Spain, and which dying in the ocean was reborn the next day, signifying the rebirth of life. Thus, the pilgrims, who passed by, carried their weight towards the end of the earth (Finisterre). When they got there, they accessed their souls to heaven and were reborn, returning light and happy. There was also the ritual of burning the clothes used on the way, which meant breaking with the old life and being reborn to a new life, recalling the old Celtic belief.
            
Well, we went to Negreira and, the next day, to Olveiroa, where the path forks towards Finisterre and Muxia. We head to Muxia. This is a place full of legends. It is said that where the Sanctuary of the Virgin of the Boat is located, it was where she appeared to the apostle James, in a stone boat pulled by angels. From there another legend emerged, linked to a set of stones, Pedra de Abalar (body of the boat), because it swings and is like an oracle, the Pedra dos Quadris (the sail of the boat), the most famous and which has healing purposes. If you pass under it 9 times, you are cured of your infirmities. And the Pedra do Timón (helm of the boat).
            
It was May 24. The day was very special. Once again, Vera's birthday. This time in the midst of so much magic. We left Muxia early, arriving, after 6 hours of walking, to Finisterre in the middle of the procession of Our Lady of Good Success. It couldn't be more meaningful! We climb up to the Lighthouse, the "KM Zero", and, like the Celts, we access our souls to heaven and are reborn. We took a bus, in the evening, to Santiago. And so, in a single day, we had the opportunity to celebrate the anniversary, in the three main cities: Muxia, Finisterre, and Santiago, where we had dinner and celebrated our NEW LIFE!