2025 September: Elciego to Santander Ferry

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At the area de aparcamiento de autocaravanas here in Elciego I am cold in the night and have to get up and make a hot water bottle, I also put the fleece on the bed, I remember the temperature yesterday had fallen by 19 degrees to 13°C. This morning I note the temperature has fallen to 7°C, no wonder I was cold. We breakfast and service Hymer, then walk to the Valdelana winery and shop when it opens at 9.30am. We buy a dozen white and a dozen red bottles of Rioja wine, we know it is good and that we can’t taste wine when we have 220km to drive to Santander! Mr C. wants to call at Al Campo to buy some Cava (Valdelana does not elaborate (make) cava, I put Al Campo into Google maps but when we arrive it is closed (it is Festival day in this area). After some puzzlement we realise that this is the wrong Al Campo! It is not on our way as we had planned, but in the opposite direction… agghhh!

We re-route ourselves and start again, noting we have lost at least an hour of our time… a rare occurrence for us but reminds us it does happen. We decide to take AP-68 toll road, a fast dual carriageway north, past Haro and Miranda de Ebro, stopping at a layby at Laudio (or Landio) for lunch. We cross the mountains of Gorbeia (Gorbeiako Natural Park) with its stunning scenery, so different to where we have been with dry yellow dirt and rows of olive trees to green, green conifer trees, rolling alpine meadows and Swiss chalet-style houses. We climb up winding and sweeping curves, with a slow third lane for trucks and heavy vehicles; over viaducts high above long verdant valleys below, to a mostly level elevation at 670m. Then down and down on the other side, perhaps more difficult to hold heavy vehicles back especially around some significant curves. At Bilbao the traffic feels more like the M60 around Manchester! Many junctions and many vehicles driving fast with purpose. It is hard work. It is an immense city, spreading onto the adjoining hills as more housing has been added, as with everywhere else. The last section towards Santander we pass Laredo, a holiday haven of golden beaches and high-rise apartments and, of course easy access to both ports of Bilbao and Santander. As we approach Santander, the city is sunny but the ominous black clouds that we have become so used to are gathering in the west.

We stop at the large Mercadona on the outskirts of Santander and buy Cava, serano cold meats and cheese, also fill with diesel at the local garage. At €122.9/litre it is the best price around. We arrive at Santander Port about 4.30pm (our ferry departs at 18.15), check-in and park up in the line with other mohos (and, interestingly a few caravans… not seen since we left England). The sky is navy blue, another storm is definitely on its way, we don’t have long to wait before the thunder rumbles, the lightning starts and the familiar sound like handfuls of pebbles hitting the side of Hymer. Then it pours and pours so hard that we cannot see through the front windscreen. We wonder how this bodes for crossing Biscay later tonight! The lines of vehicles on our left starts to move, then it stops… there is a blockage.

A car has broken down, its engine will not start. The poor driver has to get out in this torrential rain, lift the bonnet and peer in to find out what the problem is, it looks like a starter motor issue. The cars behind pull around him and move on. He gets out again and fiddles with the engine, he is soaked by this time but… he gets the engine started and is on his way.

Then our line moves and we go too, but not far as further up the line is another hold-up (a car pulling a caravan also stopped) this one is bonnet to bonnet with a Brittany Ferries van, jump leads in evidence, obviously another starting problem. We have never seen one broken down car in the line-up never mind two, likely the stormy weather being the cause. As we weave around these stopped vehicles onto the customs kiosks the rain eases. We are searched inside by a very wet security man (all is clear) and onto passport control. Passports stamped, we weave our way around to the front of the ferry and come in at the lower level, the cars visible above us. We park up near door F3 (at the back of the ferry), gather our bags, Mr C. turns the gas off and we make our way to Cabin 8253 on Deck B. An inner 4-berth cabin which is nice and spacious, we collapse onto our beds exhausted by the events of the day. We are travelling on the Pont Aven, this is an old ferry, but it makes the crossing to the UK much faster than Britanny Ferries’ new ships, in fact you spend one night on Pont Aven but two nights on the other ferries whilst making the same journey. Is that progress or some crazy management idea? Gathering our thoughts we decide to go and book dinner in the restaurant (expensive but always very good), then come back and open our bottle of red Rioja wine. All is good, we relax, have a fabulous meal and go to bed early. The last thing I remember is the quiet and being lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.