ljm22

25.5 miles, 238′ elevation

The weather is here, wish I was wonderful! Hot, hot, hot day walking. A spectacular entry to Ribadeo…The bay spread out against the horizon in multiple variations of color combinations of blue and green. Water all around, a couple of long bridges, a most welcome sight. One of the best vistas yet among many! 

Stopped in two tiny coastal towns today for aqua and expresso. Each time, once live, and later, highlights of the Festival of San Fermin,(running of the Bulls) was on. In the first cafe outside of Ortiguera, an older crowd met to drink, bet and watch the event. It was 8 am.  I had the impression this was an annual occasion. One could bet on a bull to gore the most runners, or you could bet on the field, (and I wasn’t clear what that meant). I bet on a black bull that I had to physically point out because I’m so articulate in Espanol. I bet a euro and won 5! I was the second place winner!! You should have seen the place. No bigger than Stockman’s with 75 to a 100 people crammed in, yelling and screaming and jumping all over the place. It was hilarious and at the finish they toasted the Bulls with Asti Spumante! What a kick! It was very difficult leaving. The owner of the place and his wife offered me a place to stay, but I’d only been walking a couple of hours and I still had like 18 miles to go.

On my next rest in Cabo Cebes the crowd watched the highlights and every time a bull hit, gored, ran over, stepped on someone the bar crowd yelled; “OPPAA” with incredible verve! There were numerous casualties, so if you happen to see it, I bet on a black bull that nailed like 7 runners in various ways. Go Bulls! “Da Bulls!

Today much of the walk was flat with small farms and predominantly corn growing all over with some forest. This was usually within eyesight of the ocean and mainly on high bluffs overlooking the sea. I’m here for two days. Thank god. The wind blows like the devil in this town. 

                              

13 miles, 125′ elevation

Luarca, like so many of these last coastal towns, lay spread around a harbor, partially man made with three prestine beaches on the outer edge back to back to back. The weather changed and the wind came up and it rained a little yesterday, so no time to check out the water front really.

This morning may have been the easiest day walking: Luarca to Navia. Relatively flat, through green suburbs on nice clay type soil trails. Ran into Brian and Tiffaney, (young Texas teachers), Jordan, ( guy from Denmark who has been on the road for three months), walking all the way from Denmark. I have never met a more laid back individual in my life.

Even though the day was easy enough, I needed to make it more complicated, so I neglected to bring my next day’s hotel information in my backpack. Usually I pack all that I’ll need for the next day’s hike the night before. Map, sunblock, second shirt, if it’s going to be cold, rain jacket,  etc., and I include the voucher for my next day’s lodging. Today, not only did I not bring today’s voucher, I never even looked to see what the next hotel’s name was.

Four hotels later,  roaming the town centre like a lost dog, I found my hotel, Hotel Palacio Arias. And more importantly my luggage. 

                   

18.5 miles, 1,109′ elevation

Up and down little Bahias all day. Anything to get the heck out of Battota-Cudillero. Literally, there was no one there. A note was left to call for the key. The hotel appeared closed and the small cafe underneath on the first floor definitely was. Hotel Casa Fernando- Michelin rating…minus 4 stars. It was quite near the on ramp to the freeway. Oh, well, they all can’t be gems. 

Walked with a 22 year college graduate from Australia for a bit yesterday and she’s trying to find out what she wants to do with her life. Also walked with the “Norte Camino” walking club.10 crazy Spaniads walking around their own shores. What a lively bunch, but I missed most of their idiomatic conversation.( not to mention a picture)

I wrote a poem last night….to which my eldest son said; “Hydrate! You’re losing your mind dad! Haha”

                                                                   ” Desayuno”

                                                              Coffee, juice, yogurt, cafe con leche, (grande)

                                                                     Backpack-

                                                              Left arm, right arm

                                                              Snap! Snap! Zip! Zip!

                                                                    Family & Friends-

                                                               Your Hearts fill my heart

                                                                      Ebullient!

                                                                I rise. It’s the Way – it’s

                                                                  the “only” way…your hearts fill

                                                                     My heart.

                                                                  

   
                           

21.7 miles, 1,230′ elevation

The day began strangely in Cudillero. The matron of the old pension I stayed in prepared a special breakfast for me because I’m a peregrino on the “Camino”. She was a sweet old lady, and I’m talking 90+!  She made her “especial deseuyuo crepes”. But she made me 5 of them with all sorts of jellies and jams! “Muy Delgado!” She kept saying. ” Too skinny? Or too thin!? No se? I don’t know?

Anyway, I asked her “?Cuantos kilometers a la Ballota, Cudillero?”  She put her right hand to her ear and leaned toward me. I repeated in my best pronunciation louder. I wanted to know how many kilometers to my next stop. Ballota, in the district of Cudillero. Because I was in the town of Cudillero as I spoke. Perhaps it was my Spanish, maybe it was her hearing; in all likelihood it was the combination.

She responded; “Cudillero’s calamares son lo meyor!” Basically, she told me that Cudillero had far superior Calamares and many more of them. Then, she went on to explain all the different ways she could prepare them. Once again lost in the lingo, I simply nodded.

This walk fooled me. I got baited into an awesome bay beach early in the day and it took me forever to regroup and hike out. The swim perhaps not worth it in retrospect. 

Walked with a French lady Camile, who was meeting her daughter at Novellana. Difficult conversation. Then I briefly walked with Geo and Rachel, an Italian couple I’d seen a couple times before carrying the weight of the world on their backs. They’re in their early 70s and amble, barely pulling their feet off the ground. It’s a shuffle of sorts and slow isn’t the right word, “painful” might be. The last time I saw them, Rachel was praying the rosary aloud.

      

                       

 

19.1 miles, 234′ elevation

It began bleakly; overcast, threatening rain and the walK continued through the similar industrial ugliness of yesterday; spewing towers from factories, warehouses and port facilities with all the shipping mechanical junk. It changed around Carcedo, and then Soto del Barco an estuary and ecological preserve around a bay and wetlands area made for great scenery.

That reminds me… the depressing industrial walk yesterday was met with Niemeyer’s architectural unique Cultural Egg and Tower. The Spanish pay for and revel in their arts and architecture! What a crazy dichotomy between old, historic Aviles, on the one hand, and on the other side of the river and the train tracks, amid the industrial yuk there is the Cultural Building and Convention Building and Tower.

After bay and playa and bay and playa,  I came to a thick forest and descended into Muros and then Pio and then a very narrow canyon with endless switchbacks that wound down to the town of Cudillero. A saxophonist greeted me, playing Bottecelli’s “Say Goodbye” with the acoustics augmenting the awesome sound as it echoed throughout the natural amphitheater. The little charming fishing village is draped along the two canyon walls down to this plaza filled with outdoor cafes and restaurants. Tiny cat like alleyways separate the colorfully painted dwellings.

     

  

                          

      
         

     

15.8 miles, 235′ elevation 

Gijon Bon Voyage. Ugliest day of walking yet. The industrialized side of Gijon, through the shipping and port area and then more of the same and worse all the way to Guinaran. Factories with their smoke stacks spewing chemicals all over the place. Warehouse after warehouse and factory after factory. I struggled today psychologically. Nothing interesting to see and this has been the longest trek without meeting anyone. The town of Aviles is along a river inland.

It’s weird roaming the streets of foreign cities. I see familiar faces. People who look like someone I know from the states. Aviles has a neat historic old town. I sat and people watched much of the early evening. Saw 3 weddings take place in the Plaza de Espana outside the main municipal building. They then would walk in procession to the major Catholic Church beyond the plaza.

    

    

  

  

  

  

  

 

18.6 miles, 978′ elevation

Today felt longer than it was miles- wise. Left the verdant valley floor and wove up through many tiny little hill towns, all very small. I stayed on the edge of these hills with the greater valley beneath me on the left and later on the right. Mostly orchards and I think a couple different types of apples.

 In San Justo, I met two wild gentlemen that were incredibly friendly and quite curious about me. So within 3 or 4 minutes (perhaps I exaggerate, ha), I had exhausted all my Spanish.  Josephe and Alberto, in their seventies. They were like brothers or the oldest of friends, and they argued about everything: the most important ingredient in paella! The best olive oil! Which region in Spain had the best food! My favorite, who spoke better English, Americans or Brits!

Eventually they insisted I have a drink with them…mind you, it’s like 8:30 am!? Fin– it reminded me of the time on the island of Corfu when the grandad of the house, where we were to have Easter brunch, pulled you,  me and Doc into his kitchen and he dusted off his old bottle, his prized wine possession that he had kept for the most special occasion and he wanted to grace us with the pleasure of drinking it with him. And it was rancid, putrid, God awful stuff. You and I managed to pour most of ours in his planter box as he turned around. Doc got stuck drinking the whole glass full.  When ours was gone so fast he spit something at us in Greek; “ok, you guys must love my wine, have MORE,” smiled and poured us another glass. We fought deligently not to puke all over his kitchen. Once again,  Doc got caught and actually had to drink two complete glasses.

So there I am with Josephe and Alberto. They pour me a tall glass of their prized batch of who knows what!? I think it was a cider of some kind, but it tasted a wee bit like bad listerine. All I know is I fought my gag reflexes with ALL my earthly strength and managed not to puke on either of them. 

   

   

  

  

          

16 miles, 1,200′ elevation

I’m over half way. La playa, la playa, la playa… Llastres might be my favorite town esthetically. Draped down a severe cliff to a port and beach, it literally hangs off cliffs at points. A tough couple of miles snaking up though! The remainder of the day was meandering through a long valley inland a couple of miles: some grape vines, many small farms most of which growing different types of lettuce.

Melleon was one of the valley farming towns, a bit non- descript. Then, the paved trail turned east into a eucalyptus forest and that’s when I ran into Eugenic(sp?), a Polish stone mason from Warsaw. His English was comparable to my Spanish. He understood that my father was Polish and he seemed to know where Llaze(sp?) was as well. I’ m terrible about getting photos of people. I realized this as soon as we parted. A great guy, also 60, he had a masonry job in Barzena. He gave me a smothering bear hug and referred to me with a terrific smile as “a goood Amereecann  fooker!”

Mayador came before Barzena and it was 50 yards long in total. Eugenic said; “what the fooookk? 

  

  

  

    

  

  

 

18 miles, 250′ elevation

Ribadesella to Colunga. Legs are showing signs of wear. Mostly paved coastal paths today all the way to Dinosaur Park footprints state park. How do they know these markings are 15,000 to  20,000 years old? Can they be left in the stone these many years later without washing away? Llastres is the next stop. I’m growing use to the beautiful beaches.

Last night I dined with an old group of peregrino friends: Brian,Mimi,Frederique & Cristina. Our waiter, Mateo, overheard that I do not have a Santiago de Compostella conch shell that I. Walk with, so as a surprise,  he cleaned one and presented it to me as dinner ended.  I have been met with kindness and generosity wherever I have been.

  

   

         

  

  

   

   

     

    

18.6 mile, 239′ elevation

Cruised into Ribadesella on two worn rims. For some reason even though a relatively flat,  gentle walk, my right achilles is screaming at me and my left knee barking. A cool 12 th century monastery outside of Celorio followed by the ruins of another near Nueva. Sunny most of the day with gusty winds making footing interesting on the coastal bluffs. Ribadesella semi famous for the Tio Bustio Caves. These are cave paintings that date back 15,000 – 20,000 years and feature deer, horse, bison, etc. They also have what appear to be coastal caves for diving and water exploration. Looked enticing until I tried to swim away leg pain and the arches in both feet cramped up. I afraid I must have looked like an epileptic having a seizure to those on the beach.