The forecast was not great but it was pretty accurate. So Liz had her cape and I had my big umbrella ready when we stepped of the train at Grado.

We needed them, because the rain kept coming and going... as soon as the umbrellas were up, the rain would ease off a little, then the minute they were closed, down it came. Still, not a problem really because we were tramping through delightful little villages, marvelling at some of the very neat gardens, the huge kiwi fields, the massive stacks of logs chopped and waiting for winter. We climbed out of Grado to a church on top of a mist covered hill, very atmospheric. The priest invited us into the back so he could stamp our pilgrim certificates. A few people were turning up for the Sunday mass and they pointed us off down the quickest way. They're building a dual carriageway there, so the camino is a bit more complicated than normal. No matter though, it's usually well signposted.

22km to Las Salas, where we ate in a seafood themed restaurant, the only place open and serving. Salas is a pretty little town, created in 1270 by Alfonso the wise as part of the trade route to Galicia. The camino follows that route still and crosses bridges and passes fountains which have been in use for 1200 years or more. In Salas Julio complained about his boots, new ones, that he was considering taking a knife to.

He soldiered on, as did we, in the gloom, up a taxing climb in the last light of the day. Then the fog came, and more rain. We watched as the 6pm bus went past us on the other side of the valley, the next one would be at 9. So no rush. We had a coffee in a new hostel and chatted to the guardian, a valencian who had sold his sportswear shop to buy a ruined house and live the Asturian good life. He proudly showed us his renovated horreo (the wooden grain stores that are ubiquitous here), which he had fitted out underneath with a stove and bathroom, as well as a kitchen and bedroom.

We carried on to La Espina and drank shandy in a very local bar (for local people) until the bus arrived. Thirty some kilometres, so not an inconsequential day.

Labels: asturias, camino primitivo, walking, weather

  ¶ 4:00 PM 1 comments

  Well, not really horror, but the first snowy walk of the season. Although Liz's expression was a fleeting one, and subsequently replaced by the more usual smile.

We were supposed to start in León, at 1200m but the guys in the group were a bit worried about the roads up there (and the forecast wind, and snow). So we changed our plans and did a much lower walk. There was still a bit of wind (so much so that at one point I was unable to use my umbrella for a couple of minutes!! No, really, there was a fresh breeze (maybe 40mph gusting to 60) and it broke a few brollys (which needed to be deployed in a shield like manner for the horizontal rain sleet and snow).

We reached the snow, wet and cold... that's us not the snow (although that was cold and wet too) and didn't wait to take a photo... just headed down along swollen rivers through autumnal forests.

Back in the village we started from we (the faster walkers, who had the time while waiting for the slower ones) took advantage of the bar and had egg and chips (Pompeyo's favourite food, and a steal in this place at €2.25).

Then for a complete change of pace later on we went to the luxurious Auditorio Principe Felipe to see the fantastic Kroke... a snippet of which is already on youtube (although the quality is poor so this clip is better).

  ¶ 11:45 AM 1 comments

  I am not, by any reasonable definition, a pilgrim (the only exception being those times when the nine-year old me would be adressed by John Wayne in my imagination... so whaddya say, pilgrim?) but nevertheless we started the long trek to Santiago de Compostela on Sunday. It was, as may have been guessed, Julio's idea.

We're doing the camino primitivo (the primitive path), also known as the camino interior. It was, apparently, one of the earlier pilgrim routes after one of the early Asturian kings did it (and of course, he set off from his house in Oviedo, much as we did). Liz had met up with Julio a few days earlier to get the official papers and to register as pilgrims (I don't really mind about that but apparently it's easier to use the hostels if you have this bit of paper). The hostel in Oviedo stamped the papers and we were official.

It's somewhere between 300 and 340km to Santiago, depending who you listen to, it's not hard walking, at least this first stage... mostly flat or on rolling hills. We were lucky with the weather because rain was forecast for most of the day but it took a while to arrive.

Julio had baited his hook by saying that we would be passing a place that did some of the best beans in Asturias, no small claim that. As the first drops of rain began to fall and the temperature plummeted we reached La Florinda, the small restaurant he'd tempted us with. It was full and people who arrived after us were told it'd be an hour's wait. They all waited which suggests the quality of the food. We just had fabada and pudding... no need for more, and the beans were as good as Julio had promised, soft and buttery.

We enjoyed the change of pace that this walkin gives, strolling along through villages and orchards, saying hello to folk all dressed in sunday best for their 'all saints day' traditional cemetary visit, asking farmers if we could scrounge a few apples and going away with a dozen or so. The official papers come in handy because you can get them stamped in bars en route (for which you have to enter the bar, and once you're there... well it would be rude not to). We'll be doing the next stage in a few weeks... one down and 13 to go...  ¶ 9:22 PM 2 comments