< Norte Day 16 — Norte Day 18 > < Norte Index >
29 kilometers, 7 hours, passing through Amandí, Peón, and Deva.
Given that each of us would be spending more money than most nights on the Camino when we got to Gijón, Hendrik and I had decided to leave Villaviciosa early that morning so we could enjoy the city. I had reserved a room at the Hotel Asturias, and he was looking for a place. All the hostels were full when he looked online.
Leaving early usually frustrates other people, but we bunked in the same room with the four Italian men we had seen off and on during the previous week. Those guys just couldn’t be quiet, ever. But they don’t talk as much as the French. Just saying. We were all up and preparing for the day, so it wasn’t a thing.
While we made one of the longest climbs yet on this Camino, and as predicted, it rained a little and only lasted until late morning. I used my headlamp for two hours as I climbed alone in the darkness of dawn, dark clouds, and trees that often arched over the track. Hendrik was young and he climbed very fast. But he disliked the downhills. It’s best to condition yourself for those too.
The albergue we had stayed in did not offer breakfast, so we planned to stop in the next town along the way. The only café bar there was closed. Everything was a crapshoot at this time of year. We went on, and just before the beach in Gijón, we found a nice restaurant with a menu of the day. For €11, we had a big bowl of rice with calamari in ink sauce, a piece of cod under an onion and pepper confit, plus wine or water and dessert. That would be at least $75 at home.
I had met a gentleman the day before, in Villaviciosa, who told me to eat the fish: that it was always good. So true. I met him when I went to have a glass of wine and to write in a bar not far from the Albergue Villaviciosa. He sat with another man at a sidewalk table outside the bar. When I went inside, he got up and followed me in. Early in our conversation, it was easy to conclude that he had been drinking for a while. He told the owner/ barman/ the guy in the chef outfit that he wanted to buy me a glass of the best wine they had. It was an excellent choice, I must say. Later, I bought another. The gentleman, in his wool jacket and tie, told me about eating the local fish and suggested I buy a good pair of shoes. I wore flip-flops at the time. I think he took this opportunity to talk with me mostly to practice his English, which wasn’t bad at all.
At the eastern end of the long beach at Gijón, Hendrik went looking for a pension that Stephan had told him about. We had run into Stephan during our long climb in the morning, as he backtracked from Gijón. He had wanted to visit Gijón but planned to hike the Primitivo route, which had branched off of the Norte near Amandí. We did not see him again until Santiago. I went straight for the beach and walked to the west end, where I would find my hotel.
My list of must-see locations included the Church of San Pedro in Gijón. The church sat only about a hundred meters from my hotel. Sweet. I had already seen, also from my list, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao and El Capricho de Gaudi in Comillas. As churches go, the Church of San Pedro loomed large, but I thought it underwhelming. It’s much newer than most any other you might visit in Spain, having been built in the 1950s to replace a Gothic temple that had been destroyed during the Spanish Civil War.
