< Norte Day 12 — Norte Day 14 > < Norte Index >
32 kilometers, 8 hours, passing through Colombres, La Franca, Buelna, Penduelas, Vidiago, and Andrín.
Sometimes the hard work of hand washing your clothes results in still-wet stuff to slip into in the morning. It’s never any fun. This particular morning my clothes were exceedingly soggy. Yuck.
But I got dressed and organized for another day. The clothes would dry as I walked. I left town at 8:20. I know because I took a picture of Serdio’s tiny church in the rising sun, and the clock in the tower actually worked. They don’t all, but this one appeared to be in good order. This Saturday the community was ready for a festival. I would have liked to have experienced that. Not enough, I suppose.
We would enter the state of Asturias this day. When I crossed from Basque country into Cantabria, I noticed the difference right off: no more Basque independence flags, signs, or graffiti, and the countryside was less inclined, less steep. Crossing into Asturias had a transition, but mostly geophysical. The coastline and geology changed—almost within a blink of an eye. The rock formations were more angular and grayer. Like the toes of Picos de Europa had sunk into the sea.
The sights had changed in some ways, yes, but the same for meals. On a good day you’ve got breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, snack, and then dinner. We also found some figs or apple along the way. They were getting riper by the day.
I was becoming the king of the Spanish two-word sentence:
Can you heat that?
¿Puedes calentarlo?
Do you have avocados?
¿Tienes aquacates?
Are they ripe?
¿Están maduros?
Anyway, my functional Spanish slowly improved. But still no real conversations without a translator app and much gesticulation.
In Colombres that morning a motorcycle gathering was just getting started. It looked like a good time would be had by all. Bikes from all over Europe and from Britain lined the streets.
Along the coast, Hendrik and I, walking together again, came across some blowholes. You could walk right up to them. Interestingly, they called them Bufones. Blowhard, buffoon, etc.
At Llanes, we planned to stay at an albergue before town which our information indicated as open. We found a lock and chain on the gate. So, we walked another kilometer and a half into Llanes and found a really nice place not far from restaurants and stores.
The albergue cost €15 per night and they did our clothes washing for us. All you had to do, put them in a basket and deliver it to the front desk. We had to either hang them on the lines out back or walk around the corner to a laundromat to dry them. Yes, dry clothes for me, please. Totally worth the cost of €2, which we split.
