Remembering Espana – Salamanca, Santiago de Compostela, Llanes and more, Spain

Remembering Espana
Salamanca, Santiago de Compostela, Llanes and more

Con seguridad, la aventura es perdido…

27 de Julio
Returing to the lovely city of Salamanca was very nice, much cooler than Sevilla. It was so hot down there; each breath would parch your throat like air from the desert in the middle of summer. We once again stayed at Hostal Barcelona, the best hotel in my opinion, because it was only 12 euro each and we had our own room and bathroom. First night we took a stroll down through the old city, on el Puente Romano, and wandered in and out of our favorite bars. I loved sitting in Cervantes with the steaming octopus tapas in front of me and a dripping cold Voll Damn in my hand. Gazing out through the smoky room onto the plaza mayor, the most elegant in all of Spain they say, and laughing it up with my mates and sipping on the cold ale. Hard to beat. I love Salamanca, el Catedral, the warm sandstone walls, la fiesta, the arroz con leche melting into my hand, the smell of freshly baked bread floating out of the bakeries, the chatter of Spanish like music to my ears, the flies buzzing around us as we sit under the Roman bridge by the river cooling our spiced bodies, the sizzle of meats on the grill at café night and day, Maria yelling “chicos a la mesa!”, the thumping music from the packed clubs, the relaxing atmosphere of the quiet bars, the smell of burning pine needles in the park, the cool air inside the cathedral, the warmth of the stones on the ground of the plaza in the dead of night…gracias para todos. Sad to go but I believe it is time to start heading north. Morocco was definitely up in the air but it was so hot in Sevilla and I know that it would be better to go in the fall, with surfboards of course. I am excited to go to northern Spain, Santiago de Compostela. I pray it will be cold and misty and fresh.

Late July

Poetic Perfect

We are in Santiago de Compostela now, in Galicia. So far I love this place, too bad we are heading out today, if they wake up. For some reason I usually wake up at least an hour before either of them. We will probably head out to El Ferrol or A Coruna, which are both not too far and on the coast, I think. This city is incredible and we have good room once again. The streets have a really medieval feeling to them and everything seems holy. The mornings are usually cold and misty with a purple glow coming through the haze. It is beautiful. How nice it is to breathe that fresh air standing on our balcony gazing at the crumbling tile roofs with a music machine stuck in my ears, reminiscing about the trip so far and life, waiting for the lads to wake up so I can go get a café to clear my head, simply loving life. The Cathedral and plaza here are a site to see, but not as nice as Salamanca. The food is also good, since it is so close to the coast there is really tasty seafood. I would guess there is good nightlife but we were not really in the mood for that. It seemed like walking around the stony streets the city chatting with people and sipping on red wine was a lot more enjoyable. I love that feeling. Before we went home one night, we climbed the wooden doors of the cathedral and took a lot of photos…it was a good time indeed. We met some pilgrims who did the Camino de Santiago and were dirty and sweaty and searching desperately for hash, being the German rasta men that they were. We wished them luck and carried on. Someday I will return to do that walk and be a pilgrim for a short time, it sounds good to me.

29/7/04 Asturias o Cantabria?
Sitting on the bus now on our way to Gijon. This is by far one of the most beautiful places I have ever traveled through. The sinking sun illuminates the green grass and trees that cover the hilly coastline. We drive across massive canyons with are carved by small rivers that spill out into the blue water, drifting over sandy coves where the water is shallow enough to see the bottom from so high up. Asturias I think this region is called. We passed through one town called Ribadeos, I was tempted to tell the bus driver to stop and drop us off. It was a perfect town, with a sandy beach surrounded by two rocky headlands. A wide shallow river broke into turquoise streams as they flowed down over the beach. Few old fishing boast rocked gently in the harbor and from what I could see, the town looked quiet but not dead and had camping nearby. This place is a lot like the central coast of Chile.

Aug 1?
We are in a town called Llanes now, in Asturias, definitely one of my favorite cities on earth. It is up there with Salamanca and Pichilemu. Our campsite is on a cliff that over looks a small white sand beach with rocky little islands and coves. We are paying a few euro a night to camp here – there is a small store and a bar/restaurant. Very nice and a good deal; not too far from the center of town, just a short pleasant stroll around the harbor and up a hill and you’re there. We stayed in Gijon in only one night, kind of an ugly industrial city. We hopped on the FEVE train which goes along the coast of el Pais Vasco, Asturias, Cantabrias, y Galixa. I could ride on that train for days and be content with just staring out the window. I could not put the scenery into words. We chose to stop in Llanes because it was about halfway between Gijon and Santander and it looked like it was on the coast. Little did we know that we would stay here for about a week and a half, having probably the best time of the trip. I love northern Spain, everything about it. The culture, the country, the people…everything.

Sidra!

As we were moseying around the old brittle fortress area one night, we heard what sounded like live music coming bouncing off the stone walls. We found our way into a big courtyard where there was a stage set up and people dancing. Due to a lot a Gaelic blood in the people around here (I think), the music is a lot like Scottish or Irish music. It is a flute-type instrument with a bagpipe looking contraption accompanying it, sweet sounding tunes. There were a lot of people dancing right in front of the stage, from toddlers to crusty old men. Everybody there knew the dance, I was jealous because we have no cultural traditions nearly as strong as this in the US. It was a beautiful thing to see and experience. Everybody was pouring sidra into their glasses from high above their head, then letting the fizzy bitter sweetness fall down their throats in one gulp. We tried to teach ourselves how but to no avail. Some people saw us struggling and showed us the ropes. Mike got a one really nice pour and everybody cheered…an experience I will never forget. By the end of Llanes we were all quite skilled at it.

We returned to camp and went to the camp bar with our neighbors who bought us a few rounds of pacharran, an after-dinner sipping alcohol. Very tasty, Mike became obsessed with it. It became a nightly ritual to stop by a bar and sip on it out of high ball glasses. It is a bit like jagermeister but not as harsh as it goes down. It was a very grand night. It is very misty and foggy and interesting today. We swam around the cliffs in the blood of Poseidon (the ocean) and discovered a deep cave above a small mussel covered overhang. We deemed it Flesh Rock due to the walls of the cave; they were incredibly smooth, had a reddish tint to it. I though it had to be manmade at first. There was also one deep, perfectly round pool inside the cave. The water in it was cold and clear and perfectly still. We dipped our heads in and called it Poseidon wine, acting like we were on another planet. It was glorious afternoon. The harbor of Llanes is very peaceful looking, with fishing boats gently clanking against the stone walls surrounding it and the fish swimming in circles looking for food in the dark clear water. “Arriba/abajo/centro/llanes/entrar!” (Our northern Spain cheers!)

Galixa! Early August of the year 2004
As I sit here, filling my stomach with smoky green liquid (yerba mate), I cannot help but grin as I imagine myself as Che traveling through South America on La Poderosa. Asturias has got to be the most beautiful regions in all of Spain. Ayer, after gulping down a few café con leches in the camp bar overlooking the beach, we explored the coastal coves by swimming once again. The frigid Atlantic waters and the caffeine cleared the sidra clouds out of our heads and awakened our hearts. The tide swings are massive here and the port totally flushes out at low tide so we ended up swimming around a few headlands and into the port. We walked through a labyrinth of old boats and ropes in ankle deep water looking to grab a fish or two. We soon discovered that it was possible to slide like you do when you have socks on while walking on a hardwood floor. The perfectly smooth cement was fun to slide upon and try not to fall into the holes, where the murky water held the fish we were trying to capture. Mike slid and fell, standing back up and staring at the blood pouring out of a slit on his wrist, muttering something about the hospital. Shit happens when you least expect it. We ran to the nearest bar and told them to call an ambulancia, while Mike was trying to plug the wee cavern with his thumb. An English doctor who was there with his family said the vein was cut and he will need stitches.

The ambulance never showed up but a man, who I think owned the restaurant, sucked down his cigarette and told us to pile in the car. Cussing at the old ladies walking slowly across the street, he sped us to the hospital where we thanked him dearly and walked in with no shirts or shoes, black mud all over our feet and legs. Mike was led into a back room and I sent Ryan to go fetch us some shirts and Mike’s info as I talked to the lady at the desk trying to explain what happened. Mike came out in about an hour with a big bandage and grin on his face, saying that he had fallen in love with his doctor and laughing that he felt bad when the blood squirted on her clothes as she was cleaning the cut. A good battle scar that will remind him of Llanes every time he sees it I suppose and an exciting start to the day. He had to return to the hospital a few times after that, each time falling in love with a new nurse. We returned to camp and had a long session of drinking mate and talking about the glorious things we talk about and laughing and being completely content.

Ryan returned from a hike and told us we must see these massive cliffs a bit south of camp. We invested in a few bottles of sidra and walk across town to the cliffs. In front of us are almost vertical stone cliffs that are in a constant battle with the restless waves. Behind us are the tall Picos de Europa shrouded in mist. We walk along further, letting the bubbly sidra fall down our throats. The path ended at a small stone watchtower where one could lean over and feel the cool wind riding up from the ocean, hundreds of feet below us, hitting our cackling faces. A white sand beach was far below, one that few have walked on, slanting into the clear water. We walked back with the thought of a good meal soon to be in our bellies and wandered around the city, finding a small bar that had a dining room overlooking the port. I had superbueno pasta de pulpo while Mike and Ryan feasted on salmon pizza. We also feasted on the best Spanish chorizo ever.

The sun faded and night grew, Trimnasty (my friend Ryan) felt sick and headed to his tent early. We brewed some mate and headed over to nice little sitting hole overlooking the harbor, a light rain falling down and the lights of the harbor shimmering across the glassy water. Our only company was the harbor, the light rain, faros, sidra y mate. It was a grand night. It seemed like every night in Llanes was the best night of the trip again, just repeated over and over. I will never ever forget them, hopefully. One of the nights Mike was very tired so Ryan and I went to a spot overlooking the beach, sipping upon sidra as we sat on wooden benches, telling stories and thinking about the future, not knowing what will be in store for us when we wake up tomorrow. I love that feeling.

We returned to camp and Mike was fast asleep outside in his sleeping robe. I slapped him and he opened his eyes saying his usual remark, ‘twat.’ I told him to get up so he opened his mouth and I poured some sidra down his throat. We all left camp and met some blokes from the Basque country and had a good sidra session and wandered around the city, in search of food. A grand night otra vez. Prickly green grass and itchy bugs crawling upon my sweaty body as I lean on crumbly stone walls. The hot sun beating down on me as I listen to the cobalt blue Atlantic waters crashing upon flesh rock cliffs. Mate and sidra frothing around in my belly. Misty towers of earth behind me and boats rocking steadily in the small swells. I must be in Asturias. This trip has been good to me. It is not even halfway through and I have experienced so much. Each time the sun rises, a new day of uncertainty dawns and joy is born once again. I love to travel, meeting new people and seeing new lands. It seems as if every hour is a whole new experience. Home and the life I know seems so far away and I am content with that. I love this life.