The Camino Lebaniego

Beautiful old woods to walk through on the Lebaniego.

One of the signs of another project promoting a Camino. In 2006 the government of Cantabria got a lot of money for promoting the Camino Lebaniego. New albergues were built. I saw one of them empty, neglected. One of the neighbours was furious that I couldn't even get a key. So this building is not in use. Built totally new five years ago, used for one season. What a shame, what a waste of (European) money!

What remains of this project is the signalisation, one open albergue and a private Camino. I met one other group of walkers in a week.

Impressions: Cicera, a village in the Picos de Europa

Halfway along the Camino Lebaniego is a beautiful little village off the main roads, Cicera. In daytime, it is all about silence. Cowbells, sparrows, the endless sri sri of the swifts. I loved being there, so on my way back from Santo Toribio I stayed again for two days.

Cicera is surrounded by farm land. I saw one big tractor - the village itself isn't suitable for big machines. There were small mowers and little tractors for working on the steep hills around the village. Retired farmers collect the hay and keep some cattle- same as everywhere, farmers don't retire.





Most farmers are technically skilled, lot's of self engineering stuff



The old small-scale fields, not suitable for machines



Around eighty people live in the village, but in summertime there are more inhabitants. A lot of people keep their old house in Cicera, even though they moved to Santander, Barcelona, Madrid. They may have spent part of their working life in Germany in the fifties. Spaniards (and Italians) were the first large group of labour immigrants in Northern Europe, before the European Union changed everything. There was not enough work in the village.

There is some tourism in Cicera- a posada, a casa rural. But the newly built hotel next to the village (right on this photo) is empty. Luckily it is a stylish building. Architecture well thought over, quite rare in Spain. The view of the village is unspoilt. Is it wrong planning, wrong acquisition, a personal tragedy or the all-over economic crisis that left this hotel empty?

A small road through a beautiful natural forest leads to the big attraction of Cicera: a magnificient view over the La Hermida canyon.Vultures sailing by on camera distance. A historic site with remains of a medieval strongpoint. An information sign reveals the name of the spot - no English here- something poetic with Moros in it. Here I also studied the typical Spanish tourist behaviour- park the car, take a look at the viewpoint, and leave within ten minutes again. Including a behaviour lesson for the children and checking the phone three times. Ah, well, it's a big country, so much to be spotted...

No bars, no tienda here in Cicera. But the local panaderia spends hours driving around with bread everywhere. Followed by the loud music of the salesman with freezer supplies. There is no public transport any more. So you only need a neighbour with a car now and then, for the supermarket about twenty kilometers away.

Village traffic is intense. Neighbours walking in and out of each others houses; a chat, something to borrow. Big gathering this morning before the municipal albergue where I'm the only visitor. The doctor has her weekly appointment hour here. So half the village comes over for the latest news. And to take a look at that weird peregrino, who stays in their village for two days.

It was a new doctor today. She was really handsome. So it might have been a little busier than usual. Or necessary.



Impressions: Santo Toribio

Finally today to Santa Toribio. A beautiful quiet place, described in a guide as ´a little corner of Spain where the small flame of christianity kept burning while Spain was conquered by the moors´. A monastery here was founded as early as the sixt century. Santo Toribio de Liebana was bishop of Astorga. He brought the part of the holy cross from Jerusalem around the year 450.  It was hidden in the mountains of Asturias in the last free part of Spain, to save it from the islamic invasion.

I could go into the chapel before the first tourists arrived. The Lignum Crusis was glorified by morning sun and shadow. But it was far away behind a fence.

I walk out again and meet Emilio - sunburnt and a friendly face - and his lovely black dog Turco. He sits in the hot sun and waits for some donations. Peregrino? Si. Christian? Si. Emilio is wandering the Camino´s of Spain since nine years. He also goes to Fatima in Portugal, or to Covadonga; sometimes where the wind leads him, sometimes where the money is, or the sun. He walked the Lebaniego to, and went via the mountain trails, because walking the road all day isn´t good for Turco´s feet. ´Turco is my father, my mother, my cousin: he´s my family´, Emilio says. He lives from what the tourists give him. He doesn´t speak to them, he just sits quietly and waits for what is to come. He is at ease and satisfied with his life and doesn´t envy people with many possesions or long holidays. Emilio sleeps outside on quiet places.
Next try in the chapel. The fence is open, and a monk has come in, but I´m to late. A meter away from me he brings back the Lignum Crusis back to it´s place. Still, I feel touched to be so close to the relic. 

Outside again and I take a look in the very nice souvenir shop. I talk to the woman that runs it, her name is Mariasun. She tells me there are five monks living in the monastery, aged from 65 to 98. Once there were 19 monasteries in the region. The monks are in the midst of society. They work in surrounding parochies, and when I was in the chapel you could go into a confession corner in the Capilla del Reconciliacion, where a monje was seated. Mariasun offers me a coffee, with, yes, Maria biscuits. Such a pleasant talk.
Third try in the chapel. Two Spanish couples are listening to the monk, who talks as if the recorder went crazy. Sure he does this many times a day. Then he invites us to come close, and.....I can touch the cross! 
A suitable end to this little journey off the Camino. ´We´- those who walk the Camino Lebaniego, aren´t even called peregrinos, but Crucenos. Ah, that sounds as a tiny little step closer to heaven.