October 1, 2022
- Route: Ribadesella to Villaviciosa
- Distance: 37.9 kilometers (23.4 miles)
- Cumulative Distance: 466.9 km
It’s Saturday, October 1st, and I’ll be ringing in the new month by walking more than 23 miles today. If I’m being 100% honest, though, I didn’t really want to walk that far today. However, this particular stretch of the Camino del Norte proved to be a challenging one in terms of logistics.
The towns with amenities for pilgrims to stay in are spread at more unusual intervals, making my typical 30-35 kilometer days impossible to achieve.
You can either walk the 97 kilometers between Llanes and Gijón over four relatively short days (like my guidebook suggests), or you can walk that same distance over three days. However the lack of resources essentially forces pilgrims on the three-day plan to walk at least 38 kilometers (i.e. 23 miles) on their middle day.
I went back and forth with which of these two options was the better for me. I theoretically had enough time to walk to Gijón over four days. However, I also felt that my body should be able to handle the three-day option at this point of the Camino, especially since I’d just taken a zero in Llanes.
Pushing the bigger miles before Gijon would provide me with some flexibility to dial it back to more moderate mileage days when I eventually reached the mountains, about 100 kilometers west of here. That’s where the Camino climbs over the coastal range before dipping into the interior of Spain and heading to Santiago de Compostela.
And that’s the story of how I ended up backing myself into the corner of hiking such a big mileage day today. I hiked 31 kilometers between Llanes and Ribadesella yesterday. And now I’d need to ratchet up my distance to 38 kilometers if I wanted to make it all the way to a town with any lodging options today.
A QUIET MORNING
The town of Ribadesella is split in half by the Sella River. I’d stayed in a pensión on the eastern side of the city last night. So this meant my day began by walking over a long bridge where old men were fishing in the early morning hours. I wasn’t sure what they were hoping to catch, but I’d read that it wasn’t uncommon to find salmon in these waters in Asturias!! So who knows?
Once I reached the west bank of the river, I wandered through the dark, quiet street as the city slept. In the distance, I could hear the ocean waves breaking on the beach. But even though it was after 7:30 am, I truly felt as if I was the only person (other than the fishermen) awake at this hour.
As I said goodbye to Ribadesella, the Camino temporarily clambered into the foothills along the coast. I found myself cresting the highest ones just as the sun was starting to rise behind me, with its warmth touching the back of my neck and legs.
I was still wearing shorts on the Camino Del Norte, but I wondered how many more days this would be the case. I remembered the October mornings getting awfully cold and nippy during my prior journey a bit further inland on the Camino Francés. How much longer before that was my experience here on the northern coast of Spain, too?
After working my way through the hills, the Camino dropped back down to the beach near the coastal hamlet of Vega, where I was hoping to get a cup of coffee to start the day. It was still ten minutes before 9 a.m., though, and the entire town seemed to be asleep. Nothing was open. No one was stirring.
I skirted between homes and small farms, noticing about a dozen ornate and giant murals painted on several of the town’s houses. Then I was back onto the coastal headlands again, with consistent views of the ocean as I continued down a rocky and muddy trail.
Eventually all the rocks on this path disappeared, and it took all my focus to remain upright on the slick sections of muddy incline. Clearly the rain made its impact here too!
The mercury continued to rise as the sun got higher in the sky. And about a half hour later, I passed a rural albergue with dozens of small wooden sign painted with what appeared to be city names.
I suspect the wooden slats represented where various pilgrims hailed from before landing here for the night. Several of the signs seemed to have numbers to indicate the distance to those towns, and it reminded me of a more robust version of the iconic sign post on the TV series M*A*S*H where each arrow pointed to the characters’ home towns.
SURFERS & BEACHES
After a stretch of roadwalking and a steep climb, the Camino dumped me out at a nice flat park overlooking the ocean. Half a dozen campervans were parked nearby. And below me, surfers were busy catching waves just off Playa Arenal de Moris.
These cliffs overlooking the beach seemed like a lovely spot to stop for a mid-morning snack. So I dropped my pack at a picnic table, then sat down to watch the surfers enjoying the ocean for the next ten minutes. I was still jonesing for a hot cup of coffee, but I couldn’t wait any longer to feed my hungry belly!
Once my morning break was over, the Camino followed flattish, grassy headlands along several beaches. There was barely a cloud in the bright blue sky this morning, and it was shaping up to be a truly gorgeous day on the Spanish Coast. What a huge difference from last week! No more rain and no more gray clouds.
When I eventually made it to Playa Espasa, a small seaside resort area near La Isla, I finally found an open cafe. It might have taken me 15 kilometers to find my coffee, but I couldn’t complain too much given these fine oceanfront views as my backdrop. If I’d chosen the 4-day option between Ribadesella and Gijón, this would have been where I’d have ended my day. Way too short of a hike, in my opinion.
I sat outside on a stone patio just above the beach sipping my cafe con leche with two other pilgrims. The sun now felt warm and intense without any clouds overhead to protect me and I realized that I might even have to dig my sunscreen out of the bottom of my pack today! What a thought!
IT’S GETTING HOT IN HERE!
After departing the cafe, I followed the sidewalks for the next hour. Then I arrived in the town of Colunga, where it was evident that they were planning for some weekend event. Yellow caution tape was strung up alongside the main road, blocking it off from sidewalks as if marking a parade route.
Beyond the town center, I could hear cannons going off multiple times. Then plumes of smoke from the cannon charges rose into the air somewhere in the distance. Maybe it was another festival like the one I’d attended in Laredo.
Even though this town was my last stop to get any food or drink for the next 18 kilometers, I didn’t stick around to find out what was going on this weekend. I had miles to walk.
If I stopped in town for lunch, even for an hour, I’d undoubtedly pay the price later this afternoon. Today was turning into a mercilessly warm day. If there was any question why the Spanish created their concept of siesta in the afternoons, it was soon put to rest. The sun was beating down on me from above and creating pools of sweat that dripped down my face and back.
As I walked through the blazing sunshine, I tried my best to stick to the shadiest parts of the road whenever trees appeared, but there wasn’t nearly as much relief and I desired.
Around 1 pm, I climbed a hill to the Iglesia de San Pedro in the village of Pernús. A broad eave on one side of the church provided a respite from the sun. Finally, some shade! And I’d found somewhere I could kick off my shoes for a bit and rest my weary feet as I ate some lunch.
Two other pilgrims had the same idea, and they were already sitting in the alcove’s shade. One of young men was French and he was hiking with a dog. As I ate lunch, he stood up to go look for a fountain or faucet where he could get some more water. After five minutes though, he came back shaking his head. We were out of luck. There didn’t seem to be any water here.
Pilgrim Oasis
After half an hour of rest, the Camino was beckoning me back. I still had 13 more kilometers to walk today, and a big climb lay ahead of me. I’d need to tackle the biggest pass of the day in the midday sun while rationing my remaining lukewarm water.
As it turned out, the climb wasn’t nearly as difficult as the elevation profile led me to imagine. It was mostly paved, and it seemed to ascend at a fairly moderate slope under a canopy of tall trees.
However, the backside of the pass wasn’t nearly as pleasant. The Camino returned to a dirt trail, which was muddy and slick from the past week of rain. As I walked downhill, the mud created a slippery mess. And with every step, I prayed that my feet wouldn’t slide out from under me, landing on my tailbone.
The afternoon was so incredibly warm now, and I was beyond thirsty. Yet there didn’t seem to be any places around me with potable water to refill my water bottles. There was plenty of water around me in the streams and puddles. But I didn’t have my water filter on this hike.
I had no way to purify the water from the inevitable e. coli bacteria running off from the livestock fields and into these streams. I’d need to wait until I found some piped water somewhere.
With every half kilometer, my thirst seemed to double until I was on the verge of just scooping up some untreated water and dealing with the consequences later. But, I didn’t. I just keep walking and searching for water.
Salt was crusting on my face and neck from all the dried sweat this afternoon and I felt the a throbbing headache from the dehydration that was starting to set in.
As I plodded along, I caught up with one of the young men who’d been eating lunch at the church. He seemed to be in even worse condition than I was. He was moving at about half my pace and was dragging his feet.
He’d switched into his sandals this afternoon. And his boots dangled off the back of his pack while he walked. I was mesmerized by them swinging back and forth like a metronome, while I tried to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
It had been more than two hours since my lunch stop and I still haven’t seen any water fountains or faucets. I was completely out of water now and my pace slowed to a crawl.
And then, about five kilometers from the end of my day, something magical occurred! This was one of those examples where people say, “the Camino provides.”
Off to my left, a sign pointed me to a small carport that had been turned into a little pilgrim rest stop. As I rounded the corner to see what it held, I was blown away.
There were two vending machines filled with cold sodas, sports drinks, candy bars, and more! There was also a tap with a sink to refill my bottles with fresh potable water! Plus, a picnic table in the shade. This little oasis in the middle of nowhere had everything needed to rejuvenate me!
I dropped €1.50 into one of the vending machines and pressed the button to dispense a can of cold Coca-Cola. Oh, sweet baby Jesus, did that taste good! Never had a can of soda tasted quite so good as it did in that moment. My extreme thirst was suddenly quenched.
I refilled my water bottles and was in the process of digging a snack out of my bag when the pilgrim with the boots tied to his pack showed up.
He guzzled an entire liter of tap water before even grunting a hello in my direction. I guessed he’d been just as parched as I. Thank goodness this kind family had the generosity and forethought to create this little rest stop here. I couldn’t imagine walking another five kilometers without anything to drink!
Apples, apples, Apples
I walked much of the remainder of my way to Villaviciosa under the shade of my ultralight umbrella because I felt as if I was simply roasting. I’d soon learn why when I reached thes outskirts of town.
The electronic sign outside a farmacia told me it was 29°C (84°F). Not record-breaking heat, for sure. But it’s a solid 15-20 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than any day this entire last week had been. And there didn’t seem to be a single cloud in the sky to temper the intense sunshine. No wonder I felt like I was melting. What a way to ring in October!
On my way to into town, I spotted the French pilgrim with his dog and he waved me down. “Had I seen his friend?” he asked me. “The one walking in sandals?”
I gave him an update, telling him I’d last seen his friend at the “pilgrim oasis” five kilometers back. He sighed and then went back to sitting in the shade under some tall shrubs on a grassy patch of the park. That’s the thing about hiking with a partner. It often means you have to compromise by slowing your pace, speeding it up, or simply waiting for someone.
I left him to wait on his own and wandered into town, where signs of the apple cider craze was everywhere. Small red apples were painted on the stone walkway atop white arrows pointing me toward a broad plaza.
At the far end of a plaza stood a large Baroque municipal building with a stage erected in front of it. Red banners with apples on them hung down from the arched doorways. In Asturias, everything was all about the apples it seemed.
Based on these apple-themed clues, I suspected there would soon be some celebration in town. The Spanish take any opportunity to have a public festival, which is part of why I love walking in this part of Europe.
Sure enough, I’d discover I was correct. The 23rd annual Cider Festival was celebrated here in Villaviciosa back in September. And the 31st biannual Apple Festival would be held here from 12-15 October 2022.
Well, you know what that discovery meant. I’d have to head out for some more local Asturian cider tonight while I was in town. It was part of the authentic Camino Del Norte experience!
