< Norte Day 18 — Norte Day 20 > < Norte Index >
21 kilometers, 5 hours, passing through Salinas, Santiago del Monte, and Soto del Barco.
At times it seemed that one day had folded into the next. Still, 316 kilometers remained to Santiago, and twelve days to do it in. This morning’s breakfast consisted of a too-ripe avocado on day-old bread and a can of sardines I was tired of carrying. The meal would have to hold me until Muros.
The place we had stayed in had 48 beds in a room about 40×50 feet. There were three of us. Three guys. Each one of us chose a bed in a far corner. That’s a guy thing. Three women would have bunked right next to each other and chatted into the evening. Not us. In the morning I met our third roomy: Adam from Rhode Island.
The day before had been homely. That’s the nicest description I can give. This day displayed much better attributes: a pretty, older part of Avilés in the morning, more nature, long-distance views inland and to the sea, and walking through a mix of small villages and timber plantations.
This, too, would be a short day, distance and timewise. As I walked into the plaza, head up looking for a sign for the albergue, and down at the map in my hand, I heard a whistle, then again. I turned toward the plaza and there sat Hendrik. He had been in town for a while. The albergue didn’t open up for business until 2:00. The clock on the church said 1:30. We were at the only albergue still available that time of year in Muros de Nalón. We said our hellos and voiced a few observations about the day. Then I went in search of a sandwich. A guy has to eat, yeah?
A gray day, but no rain, pictures didn’t do it justice.
A short walk done, and laundry quickly dealt with, I wrote for awhile upstairs in a lounge area. The super quiet room held views to the south, into the hills and up the Nalón River. Later, Hendrik and I went looking for food and drink—to only find a drink. All of the kitchens were closed until 8:00 p.m., as usual.
After drinking our way through the late afternoon, we went to the bar on the plaza, across from the church and the albergue. At 8:00, the lady behind the bar led us to the dining room. Incredibly hungry by then, I wanted to order a mixed salad and the fabada, bean stew. The woman helping us said that was too much food. She was right, of course. The salad was humongous. Hendrik had a giant portion of stuffed pork steak that had been breaded and fried. €12 each.
