Day 11 started out with a light mist, another steep incline to the heavens and a generous helping of pavement walking to remind our knees who’s boss.
As we entered Laredo, we stopped for a coffee break, and because Pookie is still trying to wean himself off his morning Diet Coke dependency, he’s replaced it with… lemon beer. Yes, breakfast beer. We stumbled across this gem in Bilbao and now it’s become his new morning ritual. We’ve stopped questioning it. The Camino changes people.
We stumbled upon this beautiful old church, which was open. Oddly enough, almost every church we have come across has been closed so we were excited to see it, even though it meant climbing, what seemed like, an ungodly amount of steps. Ugh ……
During one of our backroad steep climbs, on our way to Laredo, we came across this fabulous statue that we surmised was a tribute to those making the pilgrimage to Santiago. It was on private property, but outside of their fence and close to the road, as if it was just waiting for pilgrims to pose with it. We did. We used an app to translate what it said.
Laredo is a bustling city, but the beach was oddly deserted. The boardwalk was blissfully quiet, which meant no weaving around sunbathers, dodging rollerbladers or sidestepping toddlers gone rogue. It was every bit of a four mile walk ……… flat, straight and boring as heck. It would have been more tolerable if we could have seen the beach, water or even a fat man in a speedo.
At the end of this endless stretch of boardwalk, we were rewarded with a short ferry ride to Santoña. A floating break! We celebrated our ten minute sea journey by visiting a charming little grocery store, grabbing lunch and stocking up on snacks for the next day — which, spoiler alert, would come in handy later.
Now, a brief interjection: our interactions with the people of Spain have been ….. a mixed bag. When we first arrived, I was completely intimidated and not entirely sure we were welcome. (That was probably just me misreading a local’s resting face.) But over time, most of the folks we’ve met have been genuinely friendly, helpful, and incredibly patient — especially when we butcher their beautiful language with our “one-semester” of junior high Spanish.
That said, I get the vibe that not everyone loves the pilgrim parade. We were told that locals often greet you with a cheerful “Buen Camino!” as you pass through towns, but honestly? That’s been more of a sometimes situation on the Norte route. I can’t blame them — we’re basically zombie looking, snack-hoarding nomads streaming through their streets. Economically helpful zombies, but still.
Anyway… we found a bench and ate our humble grocery-store lunch, hoping dinner would be something, I don’t know ……. Better? Hot?
The trail after Santoña led us past the Santoña-Dueso Prison, which was long, flat, and a little soul-sucking. That said, if I had to be incarcerated somewhere, this prison might not be the worst choice. From the outside, it looked like a beachfront retirement center with security fences.
We reached our hostel in Berria and checked the map for a grocery store. Plan A was to grab food, and if that failed, we’d head to the bar next door. You already know where this is going.
The grocery store? A myth. The bar? Closed for siesta — as per usual — but unlike others, this one never reopened for dinner. Maps and apps lie! Dinner at the prison?
So, we feasted on pretzels and power bars, which might be the pilgrim’s version of tapas. Not exactly Michelin-starred, but it kept us alive. Barely …… insert dramatic sigh.
We left early the next morning, stomachs growling and expectations reset.
Goodbye, Berria!
Xoxo, Kate
Elevation Gain: 492 ft
So far n reading your daily commentary. Wondering how the spiritual aspect of the journey is “changing” you?