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Myth, superstition and fantasy are basic ingredients deeply embedded in human nature. Some places have an equally evoking and intimidating atmosphere that bring out and excite that old connection, which dwells within us all, with the popular lore of old times when life was harsher and answers fewer. Much of this lore is related to the ocean, a horizon too vast to be tackled or spanned by most simple, mortal souls (including mine), and so many of these wonderful sceneries occur in the confluence of land and sea, be it in battling, tender, or confusing union; it is in such spots where one can let go of logic, science and the constraints of modern life and thankfully yield to feelings and memories of many years and people before us, that seem suddenly much more appropriate to describe and handle these wondrous visions. San Juan de Gaztelugatxe takes me back to classic myths of angry gods beneath the waves, to old sailors rhymes, legends of pirates, corsairs and freebooters, and tales of loves lost to the sea in dark stormy nights, maidens looking far into the ocean for the ones that will not return to land.
A medieval small bridge spans the few yards between mainland and the crag which stands amid this cliff surrounded shallow inlet in the north coast of Spain, part of the Basque Country. The waves have been working the cliffy coast for millions of years, eroding and biting at the limestone flesh to carve, peel and sculpt, resulting in a wild, rough landscape and slowly extracting from the coast this tiny island of rock, decorating it with arches and tunnels. Only recently, just a thousand years ago, man has crested the rock with a small construction of his own design. On top of the boulder stands a small chapel dating from the X century and advocated to John the Baptist, who, legend has it, spanned in just four steps the four miles that lay between this place and the nearby located town of Bermeo to found the chapel. According to history we owe its origin to the Templars, although the details that made the chapel a temple of this order, like the orientation to the rising sun and part of its design, have been lost in later reconstructions. One thing that has not been lost is it connection with the sea and its people. Sailors have always prayed and trusted their fortunes to Saint John in this region, and the interior of the church is profusely decorated with scale ships and paintings of wreckages and ships in disastrous sea storms, brought either to thank miraculous escapes from this circumstances or to ask the saint to spare them from such destiny in forecoming voyages into the sea. Apart from this the chapel itself is a humble building as a sailor’s church must be. Many pilgrims have come to Saint John in times past, and many locals still do of
ten, specially in holy dates, and there are many narrow trails around the densely forested coast leading to this place. They all end at the beginning of the 237 steps that climb the steep rock up to the chapel, where you can toll the bell three times for good luck. Small boats would sail round each side of the rock before going into sea, and bigger ships would face it from further offshore and steer pointing once port and once steerboard of the crag, as a horse rearing to its master, to call upon themselves protection from St John. I have heard from the locals that there is, in a cove underwater beneath the island, a sculpture of the Virgin Mary to which local divers (water sports are very popular in the area, including international competitions like the World Billabong Pro surf championship) bring small presents and tributes.
The view from the top of the stairs is awesome, covering several miles of savage cliffs, including Matxitxako Cape, the northernmost point of the country, just a mile to the east, and, just a hundred yards in that direction, the rock of Akatz, only a bit smaller that the one you stand on top of; the cliffs of Akatz are much steeper, and the rock is only trod upon by passing sea birds, in flocks that some days cover all its surface. There is a small shelter just by the chapel, featuring a fireplace and even somewhat primitive toilet facilities, so you can cook and even spend the night there.
From Bilbao (one of the five biggest cities of Spain, home to the Guggenheim Museum and accessible by international and domestic flights, as well as national rail) you can get to nearby Bermeo by train or bus. From Bermeo you can get to San Juan by bike or walking (about 4 miles). If you have a car you can reach San Juan from Bilbao in 45 minutes if you don’t get lost, which you should not if you have a decent roads map or a good GPS. One final important consideration: the road runs along the coast on top of the cliffs, but the rock is at the bottom; you have to pay attention and you will find a small wiewpoint from which a narrow not very well cared for road descends the last mile to the medieval bridge. If you are walking, that means you have a steep mile to walk down before you tackle the stairs and then you will have to walk it back up. There are a few fountains on the way with signs that say the water is not good for drinking (signs are in Basque), not because it is necessarily contaminated but because it is not chlorated. I have had a few small gulps of it and had no problems, but it is up to you to take the risk, you must know how strong your stomach and defences are.
More:
Gaztekugatxe Chapel in Wikipedia
Basque Country Rail
Bizkaia Region Buses
A medieval small bridge spans the few yards between mainland and the crag which stands amid this cliff surrounded shallow inlet in the north coast of Spain, part of the Basque Country. The waves have been working the cliffy coast for millions of years, eroding and biting at the limestone flesh to carve, peel and sculpt, resulting in a wild, rough landscape and slowly extracting from the coast this tiny island of rock, decorating it with arches and tunnels. Only recently, just a thousand years ago, man has crested the rock with a small construction of his own design. On top of the boulder stands a small chapel dating from the X century and advocated to John the Baptist, who, legend has it, spanned in just four steps the four miles that lay between this place and the nearby located town of Bermeo to found the chapel. According to history we owe its origin to the Templars, although the details that made the chapel a temple of this order, like the orientation to the rising sun and part of its design, have been lost in later reconstructions. One thing that has not been lost is it connection with the sea and its people. Sailors have always prayed and trusted their fortunes to Saint John in this region, and the interior of the church is profusely decorated with scale ships and paintings of wreckages and ships in disastrous sea storms, brought either to thank miraculous escapes from this circumstances or to ask the saint to spare them from such destiny in forecoming voyages into the sea. Apart from this the chapel itself is a humble building as a sailor’s church must be. Many pilgrims have come to Saint John in times past, and many locals still do of
ten, specially in holy dates, and there are many narrow trails around the densely forested coast leading to this place. They all end at the beginning of the 237 steps that climb the steep rock up to the chapel, where you can toll the bell three times for good luck. Small boats would sail round each side of the rock before going into sea, and bigger ships would face it from further offshore and steer pointing once port and once steerboard of the crag, as a horse rearing to its master, to call upon themselves protection from St John. I have heard from the locals that there is, in a cove underwater beneath the island, a sculpture of the Virgin Mary to which local divers (water sports are very popular in the area, including international competitions like the World Billabong Pro surf championship) bring small presents and tributes.The view from the top of the stairs is awesome, covering several miles of savage cliffs, including Matxitxako Cape, the northernmost point of the country, just a mile to the east, and, just a hundred yards in that direction, the rock of Akatz, only a bit smaller that the one you stand on top of; the cliffs of Akatz are much steeper, and the rock is only trod upon by passing sea birds, in flocks that some days cover all its surface. There is a small shelter just by the chapel, featuring a fireplace and even somewhat primitive toilet facilities, so you can cook and even spend the night there.
From Bilbao (one of the five biggest cities of Spain, home to the Guggenheim Museum and accessible by international and domestic flights, as well as national rail) you can get to nearby Bermeo by train or bus. From Bermeo you can get to San Juan by bike or walking (about 4 miles). If you have a car you can reach San Juan from Bilbao in 45 minutes if you don’t get lost, which you should not if you have a decent roads map or a good GPS. One final important consideration: the road runs along the coast on top of the cliffs, but the rock is at the bottom; you have to pay attention and you will find a small wiewpoint from which a narrow not very well cared for road descends the last mile to the medieval bridge. If you are walking, that means you have a steep mile to walk down before you tackle the stairs and then you will have to walk it back up. There are a few fountains on the way with signs that say the water is not good for drinking (signs are in Basque), not because it is necessarily contaminated but because it is not chlorated. I have had a few small gulps of it and had no problems, but it is up to you to take the risk, you must know how strong your stomach and defences are.
More:
Gaztekugatxe Chapel in Wikipedia
Basque Country Rail
Bizkaia Region Buses
