Join us on a whistlestop tour of northwest Spain, and discover a land of dramatic coastlines, green fields and pilgrims

My partner Charles and I had long wanted to explore Green Spain: the north and west coasts facing the Atlantic. This northern coast is called Green Spain because rain from the Atlantic creates a landscape of meadows and forests, with small farms and cows grazing. It's also green in the environmental sense with many protected natural areas, saving dunes, forests and coasts from development. I hadn't been there since a gap-year wander long ago in the era of Franco, when I landed in Bilbao with a boyfriend and a rucksack. Back then, we took a train to Madrid to visit the Prado and travel to the Mediterranean coast.

Now, as Charles and I landed in Bilbao with our comfortable old estate car, things couldn’t have been easier. The coast is cut by deep river valleys or rias, and the old road runs down to each of the little fishing ports that lie where the valley meets the sea. Our drive would once have been picturesque but slow. Now, new viaducts sweep across the rias a couple of kilometres inland from the old coast road. For instance, at the Ria de Navia we stopped to photograph the elegant double arch, completed in January 2007, which supports two 160 metre spans carrying the road taking through traffic past the village of Navia at the mouth of the ria. The ancient city of Navia with its beaches, wide estuary and wooded hillsides is easy to visit, but is no longer choked by traffic.

With the choice of visiting the towns and villages on our way, or quickly heading west to our destination, we had time to pick a few stopping places. Even Santurtzi, where the ferry comes in to port, is worth stopping to see. Outside the ferry port, a broad walkway leads along by the river towards Bilbao. Colourful little boats are tied up in the harbour and local people stroll and chat, or fish from the steps leading down to the water. We soon reached the unique transporter bridge, dating from 1893, and watched as the platform full of cars, vans and pedestrians was winched back and forth across the river on a high steel frame. Next to the bridge was a cafe where coffee and tapas welcomed us back to Spain.

A little way west along the coast, Castro Urdiales is an elegant resort. A promenade with cafés and restaurants runs along its seafront, offering a choice of sitting inside or out. We drank coffee outside, enjoying the view of St Mary's Church, which has had so many pieces added over the years that it towers like a giant wedding cake over the harbour, where nets lay drying and local youngsters dived into the clear water.

Travelling west through Cantabria we reached Laredo, a seaside resort with a vast expanse of Atlantic-washed sand. Strong regional character is illustrated by the powerful sculptures of fisherman and seafarers that stand on the wide promenade behind the beach. The town is divided into two contrasting parts; first we found narrow medieval streets threading through tall houses. We were ready to stop for the night and the second part of town was ideal, with broad avenues running parallel to the beach with a good choice of hotels.

Checked in to a comfortable room, we wandered out and discovered superb seafood at the Bar Restaurant Cachupin. A dish of elvers, shrimp, potato and fried egg was really delicious, while sliced octopus was perfectly flavoured with peppers and tomatoes.

We visited the medieval town of Santillana del Mar on our way west, where ancient Spain came alive. Balconied, overhanging houses were bright with red geraniums. Shops sold traditional cheeses and piquant boar or deer sausages from the Picos de Europa. Every turn brought a new view of cobbled streets, a mellowed stone church or a stone-built trough for laundry.

Here we met the Camino de Santiago, the traditional route walked by pilgrims over many centuries, with our first sight of a pilgrim. Recognisable by stout boots, hat, rucksack and staff, he strode along, the traditional scallop shell on his pack removing any doubt that his destination was distant Santiago da Compostella.

We reached the wide sandy beach of Comillas when we rejoined the coast road. Holidaymakers were enjoying the beach in the sunshine, but hotels are low rise and visually unobtrusive, with white walls and terracotta-coloured roofs, so the area has a relaxed and natural ambience.

As we drove further west, the landscape became more dramatic, with the Picos de Europa towering to two and a half thousand metres on our left. We had no time to explore the mountains, but stopped at a picnic area by the motorway near San Vincente de la Barquera. A tremendous view encompassed a wide estuary wherethe old road runs across an ancient bridge into the town. Stone cutwaters direct the flow of the river
between twenty-three arches.