La Fortunata at the Horn of Sorrow

A tiny casa in the mountains near the entrance to El Hornos de la Pena cave

I headed out to my first cave, El Hornos de la Pena (the horns of sorrow--I have no idea where the name comes from) for a noon appointment I booked online. It was quite far out on narrow country roads, but my GPS had recovered (perhaps it felt threatened by the purchase of the map), and got me there most of the way. On the tree-shrouded, partially paved road, cyclists in stylish gear rode by every few minutes--it's a huge sport here. I was an hour early, and passed some folks coming down the mountain. When I got to the small hut at the top, no one was there, and a sign on the building said tours at 10 and 2 only (oh oh—direct conflict with the website). I was worried. Then I met an American fellow coming up the trail, Mike, who said he was waiting for his wife who was inside the cave on a National Geographic tour--and that the entire day was booked for the NatGeo people. The cave only permitted four visitors at a time. Oh joy. Fortunately (la fortunata!), another NatGeo group was coming along for a tour at 12:30--one of them dropped out, and I was able to join, thanks to their wonderful local guide who negotiated my way into the tour. I wish I had gotten her name so I could thank her in print!

Genuine ancient cave dirt

This was a most interesting cave, very primitive in both structure and content--we often encountered low ceilings, and had to sidle through narrow passages a couple of times--the art consisted of rude carved outlines of animals. El Hornos was one of the most ancient sites I visited; the cave art was from two different periods, 18,000 to 13,000 years ago. Our guide, Danny, was a young man who obviously liked taking all the old farts around; he helped us contort around stalactites and move along half-bent under ancient limestone formations, columns and glittering towers of crystalline material.

El Castillo hand prints, courtesy of National Geographic

After we emerged, I drove down the hill and ate another half a bocadilla (tuna this time, with egg--i never really know what I'm ordering since the language barrier is only semi-permeable) at a cafe, then joined the tour of El Castillo, back in Puente Viesge. At more than 40,800 years old, El Castillo is currently Europe's oldest dated art by at least 4,000 years. If the new dates are correct, El Castillo art would be the oldest known well-dated cave paintings in the world—a title previously held by France's Chauvet cave paintings, which is closed to the public. The El Castillo tour was in Spanish, though I understood a surprising amount, thanks to the guide who would throw in an English word here and there. El Castillo is aptly named—the rock formations, carefully lit, are phantasmagorical—the guide pointed out the resemblance to Gaudi’s cathedral in the intricate limestone formations, and I agree. The cave is sealed, and entirely temperature and humidity controlled; the technology is working, and gives hope to the rumor that Alta Mira, and possibly Lascaux, may be open to the public again.This cave had the largest number of hand prints I’d seen: men, women and children’s hands, outlined in red blown ochre on one ceiling. I held my hand close to one of the ones on the wall; the fingers were short and the palm was much wider, but I felt an immediate connection to a person who lived and died at least 35,000 years before humans began to record history. What a sense of continuity; it left me feeling peaceful, as though the world--and possibly humanity itself--will endure in spite of us.  As I left the building, Danny showed up to deposit my three euros from my visit to El Hornos de la Pena, and I was able to tip him an extra two.

View of Santander and the green mountains of Basque Spain

The GPS guided me (with only a slight out-of-the-way deviation) to the Escuelas las Carolinas hotel in Santander, a school for the hotel professions. The girl at the desk was extra-sweet, printing out my flight confirmation for the next day and a receipt. The building was an old one, but the room was spacious and clean and faced the ocean; it was quite noisy, but that’s what earplugs are for. The girl at the desk also set up the included breakfast the next day—truly a Jane of all trades. This place was a good deal for 52 Euros ($75.40).