The Cathedral of Saint James is the heart of old Bilbao — the place where the city’s spiritual and historical lines converge. Dedicated to the apostle James, patron of travelers and of the city itself, it stands as a northern echo of Santiago de Compostela, where his relics rest. Most of the cathedral was built between the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries in graceful Gothic style; the tower and main façade came much later, reshaped in nineteenth-century Neo-Gothic.
What makes this cathedral uniquely Bilbao is the way the old town, Casco Viejo, has grown right into its walls. Between the buttresses and around the apse you find lonjas — tiny shops and workshops that appeared over the centuries. This blending of sacred space with everyday life is typical of the old city: as Bilbao expanded, its commerce crept up to the church walls. Watchmakers, craftsmen, and small traders once worked in these narrow add-on spaces, turning the cathedral’s exterior into part of the city’s daily rhythm.
The main portal, with its thick carved wooden door, greets pilgrims walking the northern route of the Camino de Santiago. It marks a clear threshold: the noise of the streets behind you, the quiet of the sanctuary ahead. For centuries, merchants, travelers, and believers have entered through this doorway — people searching not only for the road west, but for a way toward their own sense of peace and clarity.
This walk is not just a stroll through the old streets of Bilbao — it’s a walk through the city’s memory. Everything here lies close together: the Gothic gates of Santiago Cathedral, the soft murmur of the “Dog Fountain,” the old plaques still marked by the great flood of 1983, and Bar Xukela, where the spirit of the city lives in a glass of wine and laughter at the counter.
We follow Calle del Perro and Calle de la Torre — streets whose names hold legends and the echoes of ancient family towers. At every turn, a story appears: about the Basques, whose defensive towers once stood like the stone houses of Svaneti; about Diego María Gardoki, the first Basque to serve as Spain’s ambassador to the United States; about Pedro Arrupe, the Basque priest who renewed the Jesuit order in the twentieth century.
Our path leads to the river where ships once lined the shore, and finally to El Arenal — the park where Bilbao learned to breathe, to love, and to listen to the quiet rhythm of its own heart.
This walk is like a simple, honest conversation with the city — no guide, no performance, just a friend who has a story waiting behind every corner.
