Day 22 - Unquera to Llanes

Date: Saturday July 6

Start:  Unquera, Cantabria

End: Llanes, Asturias

Daily Mileage: ~17mi (27.4km)

Total Mileage: ~248mi (~399km)

This morning we woke to the discovery, upon getting dressed, that both of our hiking shirts had shrunk in our laundromat fiasco. We had already noticed that some of our clothes had shrunk, but most of it was minor and not a huge problem. Our button-up hiking shirts, however, were a problem.  The shirts, in general, were uncomfortably snug. And the sleeves, more specifically,  can no longer contain our massive guns. 💪

Luckily, I had a second option. Shawn, however, will be putting on a gun show today for those that want to buy tickets. Our next stop will need to include a bit more shopping. 

This morning also probably ranks as the earliest we’ve been up in Spain, walking to the bus station in that graying time before sunrise. Normally, I am a morning person and prefer to be an early riser, but on this trail, we have tended toward staying up a bit later and not starting our hikes until 8:30-9am. A very Spanish schedule, which also works with the cafe opening times. Since we generally aren’t racing to claim spots at albergues, this works for us.

In typical Spain fashion, the bus station did not open a minute before it needed to, which was apparently about 10 minutes before our bus was scheduled to leave. Yesterday, Shawn had booked tickets back to Unquera on the lower level of a double-decker bus. What showed up was only the lower level. This meant that none of the seat numbers were the same, which resulted in some musical chairs between those of us who had booked the double decker bus (whose seat numbers did not exist, even with tickets for the lower level) and those who had somehow managed to book the actual regular bus that showed up (whose ticketed seat numbers did match bus seat numbers).  Luckily we only had to play the musical chairs game once. 

Photo from the bus window en route back to Unquera. Looks like a nice day, right?

By 8am, we were back at the train/bus station in Unquera, whose name I only remembered for the first time without looking it up just now. Now that we are about to leave. 

Naturally, first things first. We walked down the street for some breakfast at the only cafe that was open at 8am. It was a good choice anyway, with hearty bacon and egg sandwiches. Before even walking into the cafe, a woman sitting outside made sure we were aware of our geography. Once we started hiking again, we would be crossing the Rio Deva, which ran through Unquera just in front of the cafe that we were entering. The river would mark a border between two provinces, and I get the sense that Spaniards are very proud of their respective regions. “Este lado, Cantabria,” the woman said. This side, Cantabria. “El otro,” she motioned to the other side of the river, “Asturias.” Okay great, thanks! We’re just going to get some coffee first!

Rio Deva

After our breakfast, we set off toward the subject of our geography lesson, walking across the river, leaving Cantabria and entering Asturias – the third of the four regions we will travel through on the Camino del Norte. So far, it was a beautiful morning. Maybe the weather for the day would be wrong and it wouldn’t rain after all. Cue sinister laughing… 

The day began with a long steep climb to Colombres, where many people stay at the end of the leg from Comillas. We had stopped short in Unquera because the hotels were half the price. Upon further reflection, had we continued to Colombres, maybe we would have avoided the demon laundromat and melting hundreds of dollars of gear and clothing. Who knows!

So this became very steep... 

While Shawn powered up the climb (without even trying, really), I was left to defend my ego against a local man who was likely twice my age, who also had no problem walking right by me. Probably just out on his morning stroll, tending to the work of crushing the souls of those on the Camino while he walked his daily route. We will call him Pedro. Pedro and I joked about how steep the climb was as he left me in his dust. Fun times, fun times. 

The scenery was beautiful though. The majestic Picos de Europa soared in the distance to the south and pastures rolled away to the north.  The morning colors were still soft with that luminescent glow of sunlight muted by cloud cover. This ‘cloud cover’ bit is going to become important very soon... 

The clouds are beginning to look a bit more moody than they did down at the river just minutes ago... 

Not too far up the road, Shawn stopped and waited for me. And not too far after that, it began to spit a bit of rain, though this was short lived and stopped before we’d even finished putting our pack covers on. Though our path had diverged from that of my ‘ole friend Pedro earlier, he now walked past as we put the pack covers on. Down the road a ways, he stopped in a doorway. 

“Hasta luego,” he said as we walked by. I thought this was such a strange thing to say. I’d always learned that “hasta luego” meant see you later. It seems like something you would say more to friends or family – you know, someone who you would actually see later. They also say it sometimes when you leave a store or restaurant, which I take to understand as more of a “come again!” type of gesture. 

Was Pedro challenging me? Was he planning to catch up to me again? 

We did not see Pedro later. Or ever again.

What we did see later was the rain. Oh so so so much rain. Not far down the road, it began to rain again. It moved fairly quickly from drizzle to sprinkle to full on deluge, and quickly mixed with wind to become one of those very wet sideways rains. The kind where you are constantly adjusting the position of your umbrella to keep the rain from blowing in your face.

“Of course it would piss rain the day after we destroyed our waterproof backpacks,” Shawn said.    

Of course. At least our new packs had come with rain covers. Which I hoped were working very well.

By this point, our route had taken us from gravel roads onto a single track path along the coast. The coastal scenery was very nice, though certainly blunted by the weather. Even with raincoats and umbrellas, we were very very soaked. We trudged on like this along the coast until the route veered inland a bit again, taking us along a short stretch of road. 

Said road brought us to a small cafe, which we trudged toward like two drowned rats. “Do you want to stop for coff–“  YES. Yes I want to stop for coffee. Anything warm. Something to heat us up. Get us out of the rain for a bit. Leaving our umbrellas and packs outside under an awning, we went into the cafe, which was nice and warm with the heat of the kitchen, warm drinks, and all of the other bodies that had stopped in, escaping the rain. 

Waiting for the coffee, Shawn’s Facebook feed popped up with a memory from 2015 – appropriately from another hike on a rainy day. Traveling through Northern Ireland, we had decided to do a ~10 mile hike from the Carrick-a-Rede Bridge to the famous Giant’s Causeway. Somewhere during this walk the weather had turned very foul, as it is known to do in that part of the world. Eventually it was so bad, we made our way off the trail and out to the highway, where we flagged down a passing pickup truck to hitch a ride the rest of the way to the Giant’s Causeway. While we were able to get a lift, sitting in the back of the pickup truck may have been worse than walking. Despite being frozen by the time we arrived, I was still keen to visit the famous basalt pillars. Shawn was pretty much over the hiking/sightseeing at this point, and not really a happy camper. He had just proposed to me a few days prior, so I’m sure he was questioning what he was getting himself into. Anyway, we did make a quick trip out to the Causeway. And today we got to relive that memory – both with the photo from 2015 and our current hiking situation.

It seems we are quite good at finding ourselves on rainy hikes on July 6.

This is a FAKE SMILE by the way. (Shawn)

As we drank our warm coffee, watching the rain splash to the ground in gusto outside, the obvious thought crossed our minds: Should we take the bus? 

But alas, we did not take a bus. (I did, however, check the schedule. There was indeed a bus to Llanes, but it would not come through for another couple hours, which seemed terribly inconvenient. We may as well walk.)

I actually don’t mind a bit of rain, though under a great deal of stipulation. First, even though it is raining... I would like to be warm, and preferably mostly dry. Both of our rain coats were wetting through in the arms, which was not great. We were also soaked from the waist down. Our shoes were sinking vessels. Second, I would like the rain to be falling straight down. Not sideways. A nice, organized, manageable sort of rain. Third, I don’t want it to obscure all the great views. I really don’t think it’s that much to ask.

Eventually, we finished our coffees and pulled ourselves away from the warm cafe. Back out into the rain, which was still coming down with quite some vigor. With another 10-11 miles to go, we could only hope that it would not continue with such zeal the remainder of the walk. 

The official route for the day was actually just along the highway, which sounded terrible. I think nearly everyone takes the coastal variant. I’m not sure why you wouldn’t. Walking on highways sucks. This in mind, we weaved our way through the small village of Buelna and back out to the coast. 

If not for the rain, or maybe despite of, the route today was otherwise really great. Having had several pavement intensive days over the last several stretches, today’s hike took us mostly along coastal single-track trails and gravel roads (most of which also seemed to be primarily walking paths at this point). It was nice to be away from paved roads, even if the day the route took us along trail was also the day it turned those trails into mud.

Back out along the coast, we walked past several beaches with beautiful cliffsides and rock formations and did our best to avoid all the snails that were making their way across the paths in the dreary weather. It’s the perfect sort of weather to be a slug. I plan on being one as soon as we’re done hiking.

I wish I had a little shell on my back, too. I’d probably just stay inside it today though.

After a couple miles, miracle of miracles, the rain stopped. I would not say that the sky cleared, it was still quite overcast, but it was nice to walk along without driving rain. The trail weaved along the coast, through forest, and by pastures with lazy cows. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many cows sitting/lying on the ground as I have in Spain. It seems even the cows siesta here.

One great thing about rain: it makes all the greens POP – and there was plenty of greenery today. The trees, grass, flowers, ferns, and vines were now lush and vibrant with their fresh showering, water droplets clinging to each leaf and petal. 

The break in the rain brought some clear views of the Picos de Europa in the distance.

About 10.5 miles into our hike for the day, the route went by the Bufones de Arenillas, which were water geysers/blowholes along the coastline. While the conditions weren’t right to see any major water geysers, we did hear a whole lot of build up of the water below, which mostly resulted in a few spurts of water mist. Womp, womp. Still an interesting landscape along the coast.

Bufones de Arenillas water geyser (well, this is just a hole... but the water would come geysing out of here, if the conditions were right). 

From here, the trail wound its way away from the coast, descending through beautiful bits of woodland. The rain had been stopped long enough that we were actually starting to dry out. My raincoat was dry. My pack cover was feeling pretty dry. My shoes were a different story, but you can’t have everything. What good fortune if we could actually arrive in Llanes all dried out after being so water logged all morning. Cue more sinister laughing... 

While the coastal route was the obvious choice in terms of scenery, after leaving the cafe in Buelna, it had not gone through any other towns other than skirting a brief edge of Pendueles only shortly thereafter. This meant there hadn’t really been anywhere to get food all day, and since we’d been preoccupied with other things lately – gear destruction, gear replacement – we hadn’t had the foresight to think about things like trail snacks. All this to stay, by 12 or so miles into the day we were getting very hungry. 

As luck would have it, around mile 13 there was a sign in the woods for a mini market only half a mile up the road when we would cross through the small community of Andin. As with most food-related outings in Spain, I tempered my enthusiasm in case the mini market was closed. Posted hours are often wrong. Siesta hours sometimes aren’t listed. There are any number of time-related cultural intricacies that can keep you from a meal in this country. Or snacks.

As luck would have it, we made it to the Mini Prix just before they closed for siesta. Actually, we had only made it because they were a bit late closing up shop. Walking in briskly, we hunger-grabbed everything that looked good: ice cream, chips, beverages. For some reason when you’re very hungry, it’s never the healthiest options that make it to the check-out counter. 

Once we’d made our purchases, the shopkeeper closed up the store. We sat at a table outside, devouring our haul. While there were only about three and a half miles remaining to Llanes, we needed a bit of sugar to boost us the rest of the way there. 

Fueled and happy, we were soon on our way again. The route out of Andin began with a steep climb where suddenly, it started raining again. The potato chip delay. Many years ago, Shawn and I had gone climbing with his uncle Gary in the Shenandoah Mountains. Late in the afternoon, we had gotten hungry and taken a break to cook up some ramens. Shortly thereafter it began raining and, with the rock now too slick, we weren’t able to do the last route we’d been hoping to climb for the day. We had henceforth dubbed this moment/scenario ‘the ramen delay’. Now, as the rain slowly crescendoed once again, we blamed the potato chips. This said, even despite the rain, we did not regret stopping for snacks. We needed those snacks. 

Now you see Llanes (upper left)

At first the rain came and went. After cresting the hill and continuing onto a gravel road high above the coast, we had a great view of Llanes in the not-so-far distance. Perspective is a funny thing. When Llanes first came into view, I thought – wow, it’s so close. Is it really going to take us three more miles to get there? Only a mile later, our vantage point had changed and, with town now looking much further away, my new thought was, are we really going to make it to town in only two miles? 

Now you kind of see Llanes... 

Over this mile, the weather also closed in fairly quickly. The rain picked up to another vigorous shower and the fog rolled in. Our views of Llanes went from clear to misty to absent. A thick wall of white fog surrounded the hillside. I know this view very well. If I had any special stats or accolades to my name they would read something like: most climbs to viewpoints completely obscured by fog. This would be closely followed by: most visits to architectural marvels currently covered in scaffolding.

Now you don’t see Llanes.. Or much of anything, really.

At any rate, we’d been lucky to get a clear view of the coastline and Llanes before the fog rolled in and now we were on a mission to get out of the rain, once again. Finally our undulating roller coaster path through the hillsides descended into the outskirts of town and we did indeed make it to the center of Llanes in the expected two miles from my earlier point of disbelief. 

After checking into the hotel, showering, and hanging all of our wet gear up to dry (because it would have been too easy to walk into town all dried out), we went out to take care of a few shopping errands and our hunger. The first order of business was a new hiking shirt for Shawn. We couldn’t have him walking around in a hiking shirt that made him look like he was in the middle of some sort of midlife crisis, willing himself into too-small shirts to show off the his muscles. As it was, the shirt was mostly just very uncomfortable. 

After taking care of this task, we set out for dinner. And what better way to start our time in Asturias than with a very regional meal? We settled into a casual, no frills, but highly rated restaurant for cochopo, which is an Asturian dish consisting of two deep-fried breaded cutlets (usually beef, veal, or sometimes chicken) filled with serrano ham and cheese. A bit like Wienerschnitzel meets cordon bleu. We ordered the full meal version which came with a variety of three different types of the cutlets (basically using different hams and cheeses) along with some fried potatoes and salad. The meal that arrived could probably have been shared by at least three, maybe even four people, but we did our best. We were very hungry, so that helped. 

We also washed this down with a bit of local cider, which is also a big thing in Asturias. We have already seen plenty of sidrerias around Llanes and I’m sure we will see more as we continue down the Camino. The ciders here (at least the one we had) are drier and less sweet than those I’ve had in the U.S. or elsewhere, which I liked. More research is needed.

Following dinner, we did a bit more shopping so Shawn could get a few ‘around town’ clothes. Nearly all of his clothes had been ruined in the laundromat incident other than his hiking shorts, a t-shirt, a pair of swim/board shorts, and some lounge shorts. Now he has a few more things added to the wardrobe.

We even took a break during our shopping for a bit of coffee, because I am 40 going on 100. (Not asking for decaf yet though!)

Between yesterday’s whirlwind trip to Santander, a very early wake up call and bus ride back to Unquera, and the 17 mile hike in the rain to Llanes, we are pretty tired. We probably deserve a zero tomorrow.