October 4, 2022
- Route: Salinas to Soto de Luiña
- Distance: 32.6 kilometers (20.2 miles)
- Cumulative Distance: 560.7 kilometers
Last night was, by far, the worst night of sleep I’ve had on the Camino in the two and half weeks. I knew a sleepless night was bound to happen eventually. You get put in a room with an insanely loud snorer, and even your earplugs are no match for their noise.
But it’s a shame it had to happen in such a comfortable hostel, where there was ONLY one other person staying there with me was the noisy offender (i.e., the chatty Austrian pilgrim I met in Salinas last night).
What was even more amazing, was that she was able to sleep like this for 11 hours! Her snoring started just around 9 p.m. last night and she was just waking up when I departed the albergue at 8 a.m.
And her deep sleep wasn’t because she was physically worn out either. She told me she didn’t even hike at all yesterday because her hip hurt! But now I was off to hike a robust 20-mile day with relatively no sleep at all.
NOT SUCH A BIG CLIMB
When I left the albergue in Salinas this morning, I was surprised at how light it seemed outdoors. There was still a low cloud cover overhead, but somehow it seemed much brighter than normal. Usually it’s still mostly dark until at least 8:15 or 8:20 a.m. and I need my headlamp until the sky transitions to dawn.
Perhaps this brightness was a due to the fact that there were actually street lights illuminating many of the roads in Salinas (a luxury that doesn’t exist is many small towns). Or maybe it was the low clouds coming in off the ocean that trapped that light and reflected it back. Either way, I didn’t even need beam of my headlamp to spot the yellow arrows leading me out of town.
My lack of sleep meant I began my morning physically tired, but I was still mentally prepared for a big climb out of Salinas. My guidebook said that the short, steep hill out of town up to the monastery in San Martín was one of the steepest on the entire Camino.
I’m not quite sure where the author got this information though. In my opinion climbing this foothill was no steeper than any number of inclines I climbed just yesterday — not to mention the mountains earlier in the Basque Country.
The only real challenge I had with the ascent was the sheer number of cars that seem to be driving up and down this particular hill at 8:30 in the morning. The car traffic was as busy as any road I’ve been on, despite the fact that it was only one lane wide and there were tons of blind spots.
At the backside of the climb, I skirted the edge of San Martin de Laspra in the early morning twilight and a giant mural painted on the side of a building that caught my attention. It seemed to be an environmental message. One about protecting the oceans as the legacy was passed to new generations, I think.
THE AIRPORT
The sky continued to get brighter as I climbed back into the hills again, and I was treated to was one of the better sunrises I’ve witnessed in a while. Everything to my east was bathed in warm orange, and I caught a few really good photos just as the sun was cresting the horizon at 8:43 a.m.
For the next half hour, I walked through the countryside watching as giant planes flew overhead and descended on their final approach for Gijon-Oviedo airport. The air traffic was robust, probably because it’s the only international airport in the entire province of Asturias.
According to some online sleuthing, I learned this airport was realtively new as it only opened in 1968. In its early years of operation, passengers could just fly to Madrid, but demand soon encouraged creation of additional routes to Santiago de Compoestela, Barcelona, and Bilbao.
The airport doubled in size when Spain hosted the World Cup in 1982 and now more than a million passengers fly through it each year. As I continued west in the general direction of the airport, I could even made out several distinctive painted tails of the varied aircraft flying overhead – including planes with tail logos from Lufthansa, Ryan Air, Iberian, and Vueling.
For the rest of the morning, it was lovely walking through the countryside mostly on forest service roads surrounded by tall eucalyptus trees, ferns, and so many vibrant wildflowers.
From one point on the Camino, I could see the wide span of the Ria San Esteban, as the river curved back on itself. Then a small picturesque town sat at the water’s edge, along with a medieval castle, aptly named El Castillo.
MORNING JOE
I eagerly approached the town of Soto del Barco with hopes of scoring a hot cup of coffee. It was after 10 a.m. and I needed one desperately. The lack of sleep was catching up with me and I was like a dead woman walking now.
I reached a traffic circle near the edge of town where the Camino turned, and just beyond it there was supposed to be a pilgrim-friendly cafe called Cafe Bar Bulevar. I’d seen signs for this cafe tacked up to posts here and there for the past two kilometers and I was eagerly anticipating a stop there.
Unfortunately, when I arrived at Cafe Bulevar, it was locked up tight. Chairs were stacked up in neat piles. The lights were off. And there wasn’t a soul in sight. Dang it! I really needed some caffeine and food to keep going.
I began to walk around the traffic circle to see if perhaps there was anything else open, and quickly spotted a second cafe just beyond Cafe Bulevar. My late morning coffee dreams weren’t completely dead after all!
Another pilgrim sat at an outside table, and I realized that I recognized him. It was Joe, the guy from New Jersey who I met yesterday at the albergue. The one who was headed to the Decathlon in Gijón!
As he stamped out his cigarette, he waved me over to join him. Joe raved about the breakfast at the cafe and tried to get me to order the fried chicken breakfast, but I demurred. I’d already gone off the rails yesterday with my döner kebab. I needed to at least try to be better.
Joe’s assessment about the breakfast fare wasn’t wrong though. I ended up ordering a café on leche and a toasted croissant, and when my food arrived the croissant had been halved and toasted on a buttered grill like a grilled cheese!
It was utterly sublime, and it was exactly what I needed right then to boost my energy and morale. I was so pleased with this little cafe that I even went back to get a second coffee to enjoy while Joe and I sat outside talking for close to an hour.
During my extended breakfast break, Joe confirmed his trip to the Decathlon store to get himself a fleece top was a success. Then he sheepishly admitted that he’d shot past me because he “cheated” and taken the bus to Aviles to avoid the industrial wasteland I’d walked through yesterday.
He didn’t need to make excuses to me, I told him. I didn’t judge anyone for skipping unpleasant sections. I’m not a purist like that. Every person’s Camino is different than the next. Hike your own hike.
WALKING WITH SOMEONE
As we finished up breakfast and our second coffees (on third one in Joe’s case), we decided to head out of town together and walk in tandem for a bit. Before long, we were swapping stories about our favorite sections of the Camino and just generally getting to know each other better.
It’s been so long since I’ve actually hiked with another native English speaker. The last pilgrim I actually hiked with for more than a 15 minutes might have been Simon (from the UK) — and that was back during the first week of my Camino!
It was such enjoyable conversation that the miles just flew by. Moreover, Joe was one of the few people I’ve met out here who also loved hiking in Injinji toe socks too (he also confirmed the Decathlon in Gijón did NOT carry them, so I’m glad I didn’t waste my time looking for them yesterday).
He admitted the toe socks probably made him look like a complete dork, especially since he was wearing them with open-toed hiking sandals. He wouldn’t be caught dead in New Jersey wearing his current foot attire. But the combination was working wonders for him out here on the Camino, especially since he broke one of his toes in a car accident just days before he flew to Spain.
As Joe and I walked and talked, we discovered several places where our the places in our lives had common overlaps. We’d both participated in Army ROTC while in college. We both had family ties to New Jersey. And we both were on a repeat Camino journey.
This was Joe’s third Camino. He walked the Camino Frances and Camino Finisterre routes on his first trip. And he completed the Camino Primativo route on his second trip. But he admitted he was feeling a bit down lately on this Camino.
When the route split a few days ago, he continued west on the Camino del Norte, while a Dutch girl he’d been hiking with shifted south to the Camino Primativo. He’d already walked that particular route last time, so he wanted to finish the Norte and they reluctantly parted ways.
As he talked about her, I could tell he really missed her companionship, and I don’t think it was just friendship that was pulling at his heart. It was clear that he was sweet on this girl.
A BRISK PACE
Joe and I stopped at a random church around 1 p.m. to eat our respective packed lunches, just sitting in the shade of the porch and relaxing. I really did enjoy his company and it seemed as if the feeling was mutual.
And so we ended up walking the rest of the afternoonto Soto De Luiña together as the sky transitioned from blue and sunny to overcast and breezy.
The Camino took us through tunnels, under the elevated Autovía, and provided some nice coastal views – though we didn’t actually end up passing down to the beach as either of us hoped.
After more than five hours of hanging out together, Joe and I were making good time. But the scenery was a blur and I probably failed to notice half of the things I might have seen if I’d been walking solo.
Yet I wouldn’t have changed a thing about the day. My soul seemed to need a connection with someone who spoke the same language as me and who had an easy going nature. And Joe fit the bill perfectly.
We eventually parted ways in the late afternoon at the edge of Soto De Luiña. I had a reservation at a casa rural on the southern edge of town, while he was heading to the municipal albergue at the the northern end.
Despite the rather hilly terrain, the day seemed much easier to complete with someone to constantly talk with. Joe told me I pushed his pace a bit, and I got him to town earlier than he’d hoped, but honestly it just felt as if we fell into a nice comfortable hiking pace together.
I really hope I see him again down the road.
