The road trip to Llanes, Spain from France was surprisingly easy! Both France and Spain have the incredibly good sense to keep trucks off the freeways on Sunday. As a result, we cruised along at 120, passing truck stops full of parked trucks and feeling pretty good about our trip. That's just 120 kilometers per hour but it's fun to say 120!
When you're a tourist, you can't help but look at the country you're visiting through your own cultural lenses. So here are some of our "ah-has," just a few things we've discovered about the parts of both France and Spain we've visited so far:
Unlike the United States, just about everything is old. In these parts of Europe, there is layer after layer after layer of history, piled on top of each other. Each layer a history of invasion, a struggle for survival, or some form of domination by kings, popes, or dictators. It's an incredible collection of stories, each written in the bones of the ruins and communities that are around us everywhere in the countryside. We just don't have layered history that deep in the US, we're more like a pancake.
Stone is everywhere. Most of the structures from Roman times onward were built of the stone that is so much a part of both the Spanish and French landscape. Buildings, churches, cathedrals, corrals, fences, even cobblestone streets are all of stone. It's just part of the life here. It gives me a feeling of permanence or weight to all the history that had used these stones in so many creative and beautiful ways. Made my world in the US feel very young and temporary.
This is a very Catholic part of the world. Not that we've been looking, but we haven't even seen another religion represented. Just about every town has a church with a bell tower, A LOT of towns are named for a saint, and any hill of prominence has a church or shrine on the top. There may have been pagan or Roman temples on those hilltops prior, but the Catholic church has re-purposed most of them. The big churches are especially breathtaking given the shear physical effort it took in the era they were constructed. Especially lovely are the small churches in every village. These, too, speak to the long reach of the Catholic church.
Cars and roads are Really Small. Actually, they're about right for Gwen and I, but they look a little like the clown car at the circus when a big person or a family is trying the get out of one. The cars are small because when gas is $6-$7 a gallon, a small car makes sense. That and the fact that most of the driving we do off the major motorways is about the right size for two horses to pass. Don't even ask me about the parking! It's taken some time to pass even a small truck on the back roads without an internal scream. It's like being charged by a bull in the bull ring as they brush on by. I'm just getting over holding my breath with each one and just driving normally.
While I'm on the topic of roads, except for the motorways, there really have not been many straight roads. We are, in fact, driving as in steering our way through an endless onslaught of curves. It will be different in the bigger cities, but in the countryside and in small towns, they've simply paved over the old roads that wound around communities that were built for people, not cars. In the US, we got nuts about right angles and straight lines for roads. It's efficient, but really not anywhere as beautiful or interesting.
I also need to mention roundabouts. We've been in the rural parts of two countries for almost three weeks and we've seen maybe a dozen stop and go lights. It's been a complete pleasure to not have to stop to get through what we call an intersection. It's like being part of a swarm of fish all going downstream and you come to a rock and you all, simultaneously, just navigate around with inches to spare in every direction and nobody touching anyone else. You can even go around a couple times if you're lost, or just for the sheer joy of it!
We've also been reminded how people are really wonderful. We've been largely in rural towns and, in spite of sticking out like red cardinals in a flock of sparrows as tourists, the staff in the hotels, the waiters in the little cafes, and even people on the street have been helpful, friendly, and tolerant of my halting Spanish language skills. I have the problem that I'm just good enough to sound fluent in Spanish when I ask a question. It often brings a fast-paced and complicated response that leaves me shocked and as ignorant as I was before asking the question. In that moment I have to stop to try and translate while my helper is staring at me and confused by my silence. It's been fun.
On the way to Llanes, we had taken a little side trip to visit the Basque towns along the coast. I'm reading The Basque History of the World and have been learning about how these people have preserved their language and culture in the face of multiple attempted invasions over the centuries. Sadly for us, it was Sunday and everyone with a car had decided to get one more beach day in before the weather changed toward autumn. There were little cars jammed in to every available space near a beach for miles. We just kept diving. As the road signs testify, the Basque language is almost undecipherable to an outsider, and another powerful statement about their intention to remain independent.
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| Gwen's Sketch of El Habana |
We arrived at El Habana near Llanes after a six hour drive and celebrated with a wonderful arrival meal. El Habana happens to have a great restaurant and we were so done with driving. We're actually not in the town of Llanes, but on the opposite side of the freeway and in the country. We really lucked out on this choice. At night all we can hear is the wind in the trees and the bells on the stock in distant pastures. Here, cows, sheep, goats, and even horses have bells on them. In the countryside, you can always hear bells, it's the music of this part of the world.
On that tranquil note, I'll end this early. Tomorrow is a big hike day and rest is in order. Com'on back for the tale of the Picos De Europa National Park.
Blessings,
Earl and Gwen
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