< Norte Day 15 — Norte Day 17 > < Norte Index >
29 kilometers, 7 hours, passing through Colunga, Prenús, Priesca, and Sebrayo.
Following a breakfast of toast with olive oil and tea, Hendrik and I stepped out into a breezy morning. The night had been a costly one in terms of euros, but every room held a view of the sea. The place must really hop with surfers during the summer. There were only pilgrims the night we stayed there.
There had not been many food options, and they all required another walk, so we ordered from the small selection at the Hostel Marejada. I ordered a pizza and a salad. The food, the bed (super clean and warm), and the wine I purchased when Fernando had visited with me came to €48.50.
At Colunga, the sun came up as we walked into town casting its light on the church steeple, a sight no doubt meant to inspire. As I have said, I have a thing for churches. The bell tower is meant to be seen from a distance to attract passersby in times of yore and to draw parishioners to the Word.
A new fall season hung in the air that morning. But because the Camino del Norte is near to the sea, the temperatures were very regular and not often very cool. The growing season is very long. Gardens still had tomatoes and peppers and new crops of kale (for the chickens) and lettuces were still being planted in the ground. Much fruit hung on the trees.
Things you can eat along this route, right from the trail:
Figs – galore
Chestnuts (castanas) – by the millions (cook them first; we microwaved them)
Apples – mostly for cider (cider here can’t be vegan; enough said about that)
Walnuts
Sometimes lemons and oranges
Occasionally kiwis and avocados
The rule, or at least mine, if the fruit hung over the trail, it was fair game. Beyond a fence or wall—don’t touch. I saw some damage to trees caused by would-be pickers. That’s not cool.
Just before Prenús, we met an American woman from Pennsylvania walking the opposite direction. Stopping to chat for a few minutes, she told us she had been to Santiago and would backtrack the Norte until her visa ran out, then she would return home to the States.
Another accurate weather forecast came our way. In a good way this time. The beautiful day arrived with perfect temps. There was not much in the way of views and most of the path followed quiet country lanes of asphalt, but still quite leisurely and pleasant. That’s until we found—once again—that the albergue we planned on for the night was closed. We planned to stay in smaller, quieter, further-down-the-path Amandí. However, with the albergue closed, we backtracked to Villaviciosa—adding four kilometers to our journey.
I still traveled with Hendrik, the young German man. The previous night at the hostel were Marie from France, who we had met a few days before; Max and his son Tanel, also from France; Mario, from Hanover, Germany; and a couple from Utah. We were on about the same pace to Santiago, except the Utahns.
The next day, I planned to be in Gijón, where I had reserved a hotel room for the night. I was looking forward to a snorer-free slumber.
Villaviciosa is a nice place: a very clean and aesthetically pleasing town nestled in a valley not far from the coast. There were several tempting restaurants and bars. It looked like a nice place to visit, to spend more time taking it all in. During our first pass through town, we stopped for lunch. Looking around for a decent place, we stopped at a restaurant on a corner near the Parque Ballina. The prices on the carte (menu) were really high. Twenty-eight euros for Iberico ham, kind of high. On closer inspection, I saw that it was a Michelin starred restaurant. And it was packed with customers. We went on down the street.