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Original title: Andanzas y visiones españolas
by Miguel de Unamuno · 1864–1936
"Andanzas y visiones españolas" by Miguel de Unamuno is a collection of travel essays and reflections written in the early 20th century. It gathers chronologically arranged excursions across Spain, weaving landscape sketches with meditations on history, faith, identity, and modern life. The traveling narrator seeks the country’s spirit in monasteries, mountains, and old towns, finding meaning in silence, ruins, and rural rhythms. The opening of the work lays out its aim: to collect landscape pieces and travel visions that Unamuno kept separate from his novels so readers can savor scenery and contemplation on their own. He begins at the Cistercian ruins of Moreruela, turning their grandeur and decay into prayers to quiet, enclosure, and the search for God within. He then recounts a recent ascent to Gredos—exalting the silence of high places, mocking news-chasing and “progress,” praising simplicity, and preparing another retreat to the Peña de Francia. From that summit he writes of shared quiet with friends, inward examination, and vast perspectives over humble villages, invoking Senancour’s Obermann to name the mountain’s metaphysical hush. A letter-essay contrasts city bustle with the moral calm of the countryside, recalls formative landscapes (Vizcaya, the Apennines), criticizes tourism-by-fashion, and treats the field as an ethical gospel. A Holy Week journey follows through Medina del Campo, Olmedo, and Arévalo, mingling history (Isabel, Enrique IV, the Beltraneja, the comuneros) with vivid village life and the haunting sight of an abandoned cemetery. It culminates with arrival at El Escorial, where he rebuts guidebook prejudices and defends the austere, “arid” beauty of the monastery and the Castilian landscape.
Summary generated automatically by Project Gutenberg.
- Read time
- 350 min
- Words
- 76,940
- Chapters
- 44
- Paragraphs
- 903
- Price
- Free
- Spain -- Description and travel
¡Me mienta usted en su carta al Apenino!
You mention to me in your letter the Apennines!
¡Dulce recuerdo!
Sweet memory!
Hace ya de esto veintidós años, no teniendo yo todavía entonces más que veinticinco, en el verano de 1889,
It is already twenty-two years ago, when I still had no more than twenty-five, in the summer of 1889,
cuando lleno de mi tierra vasca atravesaba ese generoso Apenino en uno de cuyos repliegues se esconde el lugarejo en que usted nació.
when full of my Basque land I crossed that generous Apennines in one of whose folds hides the little place in which you were born.
Y al atravesarlo y contemplar sus valles, sus encañadas y sus pueblecitos, recordaba a mi Vizcaya.
And upon crossing it and contemplating its valleys, its gorges and its little villages, I remembered my Biscay.
Todas las notas de aquel mi viaje de mocedad, que asentaba noche a noche, al correr de la pluma, en un cuarto de hotel, están llenas de mi tierra nativa.
All the notes of that my journey of youth, which I set down night after night, at the running of the pen, in a hotel room, are full of my native land.
Al entrar en Italia empezaron a desfilar a mis ojos los clásicos pinos italianos, en parasol, que me traían el recuerdo de uno hermosísimo que hay a la entrada de Guernica,
Upon entering Italy the classic Italian pines began to parade before my eyes, in parasol, which brought me the memory of a most beautiful one that there is at the entrance of Guernica,
de donde es y donde vivía entonces y me esperaba la que dos años más tarde había de hacerse mi mujer.
from where she is and where she lived then and awaited me the one who two years later was to become my wife.
Los Apeninos vistos desde Florencia, desde esta ciudad para mi encantada que llevo en el fondo de mi alma a partir de entonces, los Apeninos aquéllos me recordaban la cordillera de Archanda,
The Apennines seen from Florence, from this city for me enchanted that I carry in the depths of my soul from then on, those Apennines reminded me of the mountain range of Archanda,
a cuya sombra se cernieron los ensueños de mi juventud.
under whose shadow the dreams of my youth hovered.
Al subir el Reno, yendo de Pistoya a Bolonia, me invadió el recuerdo de la subida de Orduña, según se pasa de los valles del país vasco a la llanura castellana,
Upon climbing the Reno, going from Pistoia to Bologna, the memory of the climb of Orduña invaded me, as one passes from the valleys of the Basque country to the Castilian plain,
esta subida que traspuse la primera vez cuando a mis diez y seis años fuí a Madrid a empezar mi carrera, cantando el _Agur, nere biotzeko_, un zortzico de Iparraguirre,
this climb that I crossed the first time when at my sixteen years I went to Madrid to begin my career, singing the _Agur, nere biotzeko_, a zortzico of Iparraguirre,
y con lágrimas en los ojos que iban a empezar a no ver su tierra.
and with tears in my eyes that were going to begin to not see their land.
En aquella misma Florencia, en esa Florencia de mi deslumbramiento juvenil y que consideraría una desgracia de mi vida no poder volver a verla, escribí una noche: «¡Mi Florencia!
In that same Florence, in that Florence of my youthful dazzlement and that I would consider a misfortune of my life not to be able to see it again, I wrote one night: "My Florence!
Hace un tiempo bilbaíno, a ratos sol y a ratos nubes.
Bilbao weather, at times sun and at times clouds.
Las calles, tan tranquilas; el aspecto de mi Bilbao».
The streets, so tranquil; the aspect of my Bilbao."
Hoy no les encontraría esta semejanza, pues no la tienen.
Today I would not find this resemblance, for they do not have it.
Y hasta las oposiciones suscitaban el recuerdo de mi tierra, ya que hay una asociación de ideas por desemejanza.
And even the competitions aroused the memory of my land, since there is an association of ideas by dissimilarity.
Los bueyes blancos de su tierra de usted, amigo, me recordaban a los bueyes rojos--_aidá!
The white oxen of your land, friend, reminded me of the red oxen—_aidá!
gorri!
gorri!
_--de color de barquillo, de la mía.
_—of color of biscuit, of mine.
Servíame la ajena para reencender la ternura por la mía propia.
The foreign served me to rekindle the tenderness for my own.
Y por esto le cobré tanto cariño.
And for this I became so fond of it.
About the author

Miguel de Unamuno1864–1936
Miguel de Unamuno (1864–1936) was born in Bilbao, in the Basque Country, and became one of the leading Spanish thinkers of his time.
The Miguel de Unamuno page, and where to start →Questions about Wanderings and Visions of Spain
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Book details
- Original language
- Spanish
- Translation
- English, machine translation
- Source text
- Project Gutenberg #78052
- Licence
- Public domain worldwide
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