Pamploma, Madrid, and Good Bye!

Pamplona is really pretty small at about 200,000 people. We saw signs for MacDonald's and a Burger King, but for the most part, it hasn't lost it's Spanish soul. Just one example: the tradition of having a coffee with friends and family isn't relegated to a brand shop on a corner. It happens in small coffee shops, in pubs, and outside bakeries. It's only a few steps away wherever you are. Having that coffee is more about the social glue in the culture than getting the caffeine and sugar hit you need to get through the day.

In spite of the old world layout, Pamplona is very easy to navigate. Most of what you'd want to see is within walking distance from the Plaza del Castillo in the heart of the old city. It's the place where we had the crazy Saturday night dinner a few blocks from our hotel.

We did take in a couple of sights. We found the famous Running of the Bulls statue representing the annual San Fermin Festival, and the big Plaza de Torros (bull ring). Pamplona is ALL about the San Fermin festival, as it should be because of the hordes of tourists ($) it brings to the town every summer. Here's a link  to some strange facts about the festival you may find interesting, like it started in the 1500's and since they've been keeping records in 1924, 15 people have died in the run. It's been said that Hemmingway actually regretted writing about the event in his 1926 book, The Sun Also Rises, because of what it did to popularize the festival and the town.

We stopped again for a daytime experience of the Plaza del Castillo, and being tired of ham and Spanish potato omelets, we ordered a hamburger. We never imagined that the word ham in hamburger could actually mean ham. We're not sure it was in fact ham, but the unfamiliar look of the meat was suspicious. It was just as unlikely the dish would come with a fried egg, and . . . wait for it . . . slices of Serano ham stacked inside. It may be a while before I can eat ham again.

the. . . highlight of Pamplona for us
was our own
Running of the Bulls.

The absolute highlight of Pamplona for us was our own Running of the Bulls. On the way to dinner, we noticed people were pressed up against the walls of the street and expectantly looking toward the big plaza. Suddenly, like something out of a creepy Pied Piper movie, about a hundred kids, ages say eight to twelve, all came running down the street screaming. They were being chased by angry looking men rolling the front end of normal sized bull replica wheelbarrows. The "bulls" were interspersed among the kids and made the occasional "charge" at the bystanders, too. I came inches from being gored by a fake bull that night.

We had inadvertently walked into festival of San Fermin Txikito, or the "Little Running of the Bulls." It explained our surprise by strange happenings and unusual events of the weekend. For example, there was a sudden parade with a lot of horns and some giant whirling puppets. Clowns suddenly appeared in the main plaza, and there was a four-piece fife and drum group that marched under our hotel window early Sunday morning. It all was sweet and kept our short stay in Pamplona interesting.

For our last night, we had a very light salad dinner out and then honored the day by going back to Hemmingway's favorite haunt, Café Iruña, and having a cup of hot chocolate. Café Iruña is so identified with Hemmingway there is a life-sized statue of him at the bar. The cup of hot chocolate was so thick it was just a notch below warm chocolate syrup. I've never heard Gwen say no to chocolate in front of her, but this cup did it. Next time we order a cup of cocoa in Spain, its chocolate con leche.

I'm going to leave off writing here,
say goodbye,
and just let Madrid have its way with me.

We're off to Madrid on the high-speed train tomorrow at 11 AM. I'm going to leave off writing here, say goodbye, and just let Madrid have its way with me. Gwen and I have loved our time in Spain, with each other, and sharing our collection of adventures with you. Of course, there are countless small stories. But mostly, I want to remember how much I've loved the Spanish culture, how caring and helpful our Spanish acquaintances have been to us, and how the rich history of Spain is just out the backdoor of any city if you go looking for it.

That all said, a month is a long time living out of even nice hotels and from a suitcase. We'll be glad to soon be back in our own world, reconnecting with family and friends, and starting our pork free dieting. So Muchas Gracias for your attention and vaya con Dios, or may the God of your understanding travel with you whenever you go.

Vaya con Dios!

Till the next trip, love from us to you and yours,

Earl and Gwen

Bye to Llanes and Hello Pamplona

For our last day in Llanes, we went back to the ocean. The sun was shining and, again, we needed to give our feet a rest day. Our pal Jeremy from Iberian Adventures had suggested Torimbia beach just west of our previous ocean walk.

Getting there meant another tight drive through the little village of Niembro, which led to an uphill road, which lead to a broad, 180 degree ocean vista. But it got better. From the car park there was a straight (and short) path out to the best possible vista point and lunch spot. Here's a couple photos to give you a sense for not just Torimbia beach, but what the whole coastline is like in this part of Spain. Lots and lots of small beaches, the vast majority with no food or bathroom services. Most surprisingly, there are no houses or vacation homes on the majority of them. Just miles of unspoiled beaches.

Views to the east and west from the vista point.

We spent the afternoon and evening back at El Habana. For our final dinner, we took a risk on a local specialty, Paella Negra or Black Paella. It's a rice dish with vegetables, chunks of fish, all cooked with sweet paprika, olive oil, seafood broth and the magic ingredient, squid ink. Ever the tourists, we both had flan to end the meal. They just understand that dish here, or maybe it's just more tasty because I'm eating it in Spain.

We packed up, said goodbye to the really nice folks at El Habana and headed off for Pamplona four hours away. I may have said it before, but the highways where we've been have all been great. People know how to drive, use signals, and stay to the right if not passing. It's been really easy going and I'd drive again in Spain if the occasion arose.

The terrain changed a lot on our short trip. In the beginning, we were traveling along the ocean and it was like US 1 along the California coast. From there we turned inland into the mountains and, with all the pines, it was a little like Colorado. As we got closer to Pamplona, it started to look more flat and open like Kansas. Or maybe I'm just a little homesick. The only goat we saw was one made of stainless steel in the middle of a roundabout. I guess that was the indicator we were headed for city life.

Finding our hotel in the middle of the old town was another one of those driving around roundabouts multiple times, looking for clues, and driving down what look like alleys, until a fancy hotel somehow appears in front of you. Ours is the Palacio Guendulain and it was a re-purposed home of the Count of Guendulain. The Count is apparently still kicking and living in Madrid. The Palacio is a 25 room hotel, still filled with family photos, antiques, and a collection of carriages in it's courtyard. I think Gwen booked it for it's location and quality and not the fact that it resembled her name. Imaging Gwen's Palace! Nice to be in this old part of the city and to be in relative comfort.

The Elegant the Palacio Guendulain!

That night we headed for the center of the old town, Plaza Del Castillo. It's the heart of the old city and it was packed. We were in a crazy kind of shock as we went looking for a place to eat. First, we were used to the quiet of small town Spain. Even Llanes was tame compared to this place. Secondly, having lost track of time, we forgot it was Saturday night. The place had all the excitement of the Minnesota State Fair with an emphasis on baby carriages and people drinking. I guess those behaviors do go together somehow.

We found a table on the edge of the chaos and proceeded to take in the Vida Espanol, city style. People walking around the giant square, kids running everywhere, different groups of men in costume singing in the corners, clowns, fire crackers, balloons full of gas, and a beautiful sunset over it all. Perfect spot for dinner in Pamplona. Here's a picture of Hemingway in 1959 having dinner in the same place. He spent a considerable amount of time in the area during the Spanish Civil War and was a big fan of the San Fermín Festival (Running of the Bulls) here each year. The crush of people around Hemingway is about what it felt like to us that night, except no one was paying attention to us.

We tumbled into bed after a big travel day listening to people singing and cheering about gawd knows what into the wee hours in the little plaza outside our hotel. Figured this would be good training for our two nights in the big time when we hit Madrid. More tomorrow for our last night in Pamplona.

In the home stretch,

Love from,

Earl and Gwen

Hiking the Cares Gorge - One of the most beautiful walks In Spain

Trail is etched out of the rock - Bottom left corner but hard to see!

The Cares Gorge hike, or the Ruta del Cares, is pretty famous in the Picos region. The Cares route is often called The Divine Gorge and runs over 12 kilometers between the towns of Poncebos and Caín. It's so popular it gets a quarter of a million hikers in an average year. Again, we have been lucky in choosing the end of September because we didn't meet more than a few dozen people and a couple of goats on the trail.

The Cares canal is a water channel that was built mostly through the mountain between 1916 and 1921. Water rushing down the channel powers a hydroelectric power station at Poncebos. I couldn't find any information about how it was dug, how they managed just the right angle of descent while digging through solid rock, how they were able to breathe during the digging, and where they ate lunch. A couple decades later they went back and carved a foot path through the limestone as a maintenance trail. That footpath is the trail we hiked. The whole thing is one of those feats of human willpower by incredibly strong and durable men.

Stone supports the trail top left

The trail itself runs parallel to the channel for most of the way and has been upgraded with additional tunnels over the last 60 years. But the trail, too, is a feat of amazing proportions. When you're walking over a stone-supported path looking straight down at a river almost a mile below, it's hard not to wonder where the guys building that crossing stood during the construction. Mind boggling, and it's six to seven miles long! Their heroic work (in my estimation) gave us all the give of this dramatic canyon few would otherwise ever get to see.

We started our walk from the car park at Poncebos near the trailhead. In a very short distance, the surrounding grey limestone peaks rise up all around, and the trail heads UP for the hardest section of the hike. We're talking up, often on skree or loose rock, for about an hour. The only relief is the sound of the cascading river below which was to be with us the whole route. The walking on skree or loose rock thing continued off and on for most of the day, more on than off. In this instance, with a sheer drop off on the side of this four foot wide trail, it's interesting to note the word skree comes from the Old English word scrīthan, which means to slip!

After the front end, we were greeted with a vision of the barely visible trail snaking off into the distance into the narrow gorge. The literature says it's a flat trail, but they are lying, or maybe in their twenties. There were lots of ups and downs along the way and toward the Cain end it did level out . . . some.

The "walk" had the bones of a few old buildings left over from construction, some of the stone and red tile roofed shepherd houses tucked into the steep walls, and begging goats who've been hustling on the trail since the workers were there in the 1900s. We also passed through the occasional moist micro-climate as we walked through water running across the few shaded corners of the trail. In the photo on the right Gwen is using switchbacks to head down. You can just see the line marking the trail over her right shoulder. She's smiling cuz we're just starting.

Toward the Cain end of the trail, things got more interesting. There was a giant stone arch with a few years left in it, and a long series of tunnels, some so dark you couldn't see the puddles you were walking through. In the last few miles there were solidly constructed "ledges" where no path was possible (or had failed - great), and some impressive bridges that gave you a taste of the opposite side of the canyon.

Maybe it was the other Picos hikes we've done, or that we'd had many days with of a lot of walking somewhere everyday. Or maybe it's that I was 71 and Gwen was . . . we're getting older, but at Cain we were both pretty tired, had very sore feet, and we were only half-way done with the experience. We broke out our packed lunch, including some chocolate Max had given us, and at the side of the stream in Cain we soaked our feet as we ate. Wonderful.

Bolstered by the food, chocolate, cooled feet and dry socks, we headed back out of the gorge. It was long trip out, of course, but easier somehow knowing what we were facing. We did our slow mountain walking in some places, sat a few times to rest, take it all in, and feel lucky to just be there. Three plus hours later we emerged back on the pavement, tired, happy, and proud.

With the walk back to the car we figured we walked between 14 and 15 miles. In honor of the post-hike tradition we'd started on the front end of the trip with Max, Jeremy, and our guides, we stopped just short of our car to have a well-earned, small, and very cold victory beer.

I'll add more photos at the end because the hike deserves more visual explanation. Hard to explain even looking at these pictures now, the mix of feelings as I remember the fatigue, stretching to get the last out of tired legs, the views, sounds of rushing water in a stream bed for a day, the cold foot soak, and how good chocolate and beer can taste at just the right moment.

That evening, after an afternoon nap, we actually collapsed our hiking poles and washed the boots off for packing. The hiking part of the trip is over and we're now looking forward to soft shoes and flat pavement. The next post is our final day in Llanes and the trip to Pamplona

Onward, we're now six or so days from home with a couple of big Spanish city adventures ahead!

Blessings,

Earl and Gwen

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Trail out of the canyon and a bridge across the gorge.

A couple of old trail goats!

The Fuente De Cable Car and Refuge Hike

It was cool, grey and damp when we got up, so we decided to drive to the other side of the coastal range and hit the cable car at Fuente De where, according to the live webcam at the top of the tramway, it was sunny.

To get there, it was a 1 1/2 hour drive through very small towns and up the mountain. It was really a nice way to start a day. Bought our tram ticket and got on like we had a private trip. Gotta love the off season. You should be able to just make out the cable car coming up the mountain in the photo.

In the last post I said we were getting the hang of how to hike in these mountains by getting transported up the steep part and then taking the easy way back down! That is mostly true of this hike as the short ride in the tram did look down on a half-day's worth of switchbacks. Dodged a bullet there.

But on the top we had to deal with suddenly cold air and the prospect of a long hike in the peaks to get to our intended lunch stop at the refuge hotel. We walked along a gradually uphill trail when around a corner the trail dropped off sharply into a valley deep below. It was beautiful, but that descent meant a long climb back up after lunch. In the picture below, look for the little white building with the red roof.

The hike down to lunch gave us big vistas, was a little hard on the knees, and had a shock at the end. The white building with the red roof was closed and our "refuge" was still another mile DOWN the trail! Check out the white roof in the picture below. We had to have lunch so we pushed on down.

The beer and bocadillo at that hotel was indeed glorious. The sandwich was another of those thin-on-substance creations, but it was a gift in the middle of nowhere.


Probably shouldn't drink beer before a long pull back up a steep climb. We made our way back very slowly. We actually used the "small steps" mountain climbing technique we'd learned from our mountain guides earlier in the trip. Not that I had a choice about going that slow or not.

It was a little more hike then we expected but still an easy day. Tomorrow we're off to do the Cares Gorge, which is considered one of "the most beautiful walks in Spain." We're also looking at 13 to 14 miles of foot time and probably more complaining from me.

Love to all,

Earl and Gwen

The Llanes Coast, Camino Secrets, Bocadillos, the Woman's "Newspaper," and the Sweet Shop

Today we ventured to the ocean on the west side of Llanes and hiked the Senda Costera - this is a coastal path running along much of the Asturian coast. Asturias is the province or region where we're staying. In the map above, Asturias is about the middle-top in pink and Llanes is on the right side of Asturias above the A5 number. Gwen says Asturias is a mauve color on the map and I can't even see the A5 number.

The walk along the coast is also another route for Camino de Santiago. There are at least eight major Caminos, and probably many lesser routes. The Camino in this part of the country is know as the Northern Route or the Coastal Way. It, too, is marked all along the way by the Camino scallop shell, even when the trail winds through villages and on beach paths. Frankly, that sign is everywhere. Well, everywhere we've been this trip in Spain and France. I guess as long as you go on a journey to get to the shrine of St. James in Santiago de Comostela, it doesn't matter what path you take to get there!

If you're thinking of doing a Camino, here's a great website that shares the good, the okay, and the really ugly parts of the journey by just about every route. It's title is 10 Reasons Why El Camino Santiago Sucks!

In addition to the hiking pilgrims, we were passed by a couple guys biking the Camino. So much for a prayerful walk. Actually, biking sounds like it would be a good idea. Most of the pilgrims we see look way overloaded with gear, tired, and lost in spite of the good directions.

We passed a few pilgrims hiking with big packs and carrying water bottles and bocadillos or bocata. In Spain, this is a sandwich made with what looks like baguette bread cut lengthwise, with a very thin slice of ham and some not very interesting cheese. Of course, there are different varieties in different places, but that's the most common one sold to tourists. It's the Spanish version of subway only with much less everything but the bread. I think it's a commentary on life in Spain, but that's another topic. You can get miniature ones called Pinchos about 3" long.

We walked from Poo to Celorio, and, yes, I know it sounds odd. It's pronounced "Poh," not that other way. The coastline is very rugged with sandy hidden beaches every here and there. Sadly for us, it was high tide and we traded beach walking for big vistas and crashing waves on rock.

On the way back to our car from the picnic, we came across an old, old, laundry facility below the road almost hidden in the trees. We're talking the kind where the women gathered centuries ago and did their washing together in stream water because there was no running water in the houses. It was situated next to a spring that was still running who knows how many centuries later. This one in Poo had been rehabilitated and was in like-new condition. One fellow referred to it as the woman's newspaper. I guess the news of the village had to be produced somewhere so with room for a dozen washer-women, most all the news about life in the village pretty much got spread around here.

It was market day when we got back to Llanes. Market is like a traveling Target store with groceries. You can get most of what you'd need for life here in these markets. The vendors reminded me of the traveling covered wagons with pans hanging on the side. I did peek into one grocery store and saw a sight you don't see often in the US. A whole wall of ham (the legs) hanging there in the open. Just another reason to eat less ham.

Being 2 PM, everything closes down but the tapas joints. It's creepy how, within about 15 minutes of the hour, everyone is at home or in a pub chatting away over coffee or a beer. About 4 PM, the whole town clears out and people go home to eat again. That's why we can't eat dinner till 9 PM. They're all full from eating all afternoon.

We headed to Llanes port with a long entrance from the ocean to the mouth of a river. It's been a fisherman's safe haven for centuries. Strange thing about the town is that there is only one bridge across the inlet and it's one way traffic only. If you cross that bridge for shopping or dinner, it's a very long and circuitous way to get your car back to the other side. We learned that the hard way one night after a late dinner. The map of the medieval town basically looks like what's left after a lot of worms have crawled off a piece of paper.

Gwen needed a sweet after our small beer and pincho, so to practice her Spanish, we did a little dress rehearsal and she headed off the to Confiteria (sweets shop). She came back with a small bag of goodies and smiling. In some universal language, the woman in the shop told her she was too skinny and needed to eat more cookies. Not sure but I'll bet we'll be going back to that shop.

We had the sweet munchie in the harbor area and then headed out to scout seafood restaurants for a fish dinner the next night. That's IF tomorrow's hike doesn't kick our butts and we can find our way back into town at 8:30 for a 9 PM dinner. Imagine in the States, and you're opening your restaurant at say 4:30, finding a collection of Americans waiting at the door. That's why they think we're weird.

Tomorrow we're off to Fuente De and the cable car ride to the trail head. We're finally getting the hang of how to hike in these mountains. Just get transported up the steep part and then do the easy back half of the hike on the way down!

I'll tack on a couple additional photos at the end.

Blessings from the high road!

Earl and Gwen

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