It’s a funny thing, working on a guidebook to the Camino del Norte, as opposed to the Camino Francés. On the Francés, the vast majority of pilgrims want to hold closely to the “official” route. While more short alternatives have popped up in Galicia, in particular, over the last decade as they try to manage crowd control, there is a clearly orthodox route that people hold to unquestioningly.
Meanwhile, on the Norte, the overwhelming impulse is to get as close to the coast as possible. Admittedly, in many cases over the years that has been accompanied by the desire to escape pavement, a chronic concern in the early resurgence of the Norte, and still an annoyance in Cantabria. Even acknowledging that, the ocean exerts a powerful gravitational pull on walkers, and each time I return I find myself trying to find new ways to meet it.
On my most recent walk, I finally tried out two short coastal detours that I’ve long-speculated would work (or had heard from locals, in the latter’s case, that it would be fine), but hadn’t been able to test personally. Technically, they qualify as short-cuts. The latter is unquestionably so, saving a little distance and a lot of up-and-down; the former’s great benefit is carving out one nasty little ascent and drop, but whatever is saved on that front is lost in the slow pace required to navigate the dubious footing. You win some, you lose some.
Regardless, I think they’re both great, and they’ll be my preferred approach for these sections moving forward. The only qualification is that I haven’t hit these sections at high tide. I worry that the former would be dicey under those conditions, but I anticipate that the latter is fully navigable. (Would love to hear from anyone who encounters that situation!)
Enough set-up; here are the two short coastal alternatives:
1) Norte Stage 3 – In Basque Coast Geopark
If you follow the GR from Elorriaga (and you should!), you’ll descend from the Camino to a stunning geological zone, famous for its Flysch deposits. You’ll first arrive at an access point that can be reached by descending a rope. Pass that. Next, you’ll come to an easier coastal access spot, as the trail reaches sea level.
Follow the rocky terrain out and around the western cliff. Are you comfortable with this footing? If so, great–keep going! If not, stop–it’s not going to get any better.
If water levels are low, you’ll be able to simply walk around the point; if they’re higher, like they were for us, you might need to climb up a little bit and then lower yourself down on the other side. This is one of two spots, aside from the general footing, that might discourage people from this route. We took it slow and were totally fine, and I think it’s navigable for most.
Once you’re around the point, the coast opens back up, and you’ll see a spectacular view–all the more so at lower tide. Walk the full arc of the coastline; as you do, you’ll see your exit point in the distance. It looks like a mini-avalanche spill line at first; in time, it crystallizes into a rock face, perhaps at a 60-degree angle, with a very trustworthy rope dangling to the base. Yes, the way out involves climbing your way to the top! This is the second place that might discourage people. For what it’s worth, the footing is excellent, the rope is reliable, and we never felt like the steepness was such that we were in peril. I certainly understand, though, why many would reject this idea wholesale.
It makes for a great mini-adventure, though!
2) Norte Stage 14 – From Playa de Merón to La Braña
This one’s much simpler! No scrambling over upturned sedimentary rocks to clamber over, no cliff face to scale. It’s just soft sand, all the way along the beach, leading you from the Merón beach (complete with a bathroom) to the small town of La Braña. It chops off a small ascent and an annoyingly-sharp descent, and a bit of pavement, and it’s a few hundred meters shorter to boot. I cannot think of a single good reason to stay on the road, aside from an onslaught of historically nasty sneaker waves.
