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