Walking the Senda Costera Miradores
I knew that the Asturian coast would be beautiful but the reality of this wild coast really takes your breath away. Tiny coves framed by tumble down cliffs are pounded endlessly by the waves of the Cantabrian sea, not a high rise hotel in sight. The Senda Costera Miradores (coastal path of viewing points, part of the Camino de la Costa) was suggested as an easy introduction for those eager to explore. The aim was to walk to San Esteban, further along the coast, find somewhere for a late lunch before heading back to Cudillero on the FEVE. We took a 10 minute taxi ride from Cudillero, (the taxi driver apologising profusely as he answered his mobile on a precarious mountain bend), to the golden sands of Playa de Aguilar, where we would start our walk.
In late May, the beach was practically deserted despite the glorious weather. At one end of the beach, a bar, the only building, was just opening up, the waitress setting out the weathered tables and chairs on the terrace just above the sand. We stopped for a coffee and to purchase some water for the walk ahead (the Cudillero tourist office had warned us the route was steep). Refreshed and ready we set off, the start climbing steadily in the hot midday sun. The saying 'mad dogs and Englishmen' was mentioned several times as the path went steeply upwards along the cliff edge.
Lizards darted across our path every few steps, we even saw a snake (perhaps a slow worm), our curiosity tempered with caution just in case. Occasionally we crossed paths with other walkers from the opposite direction with a friendly '¡Hola!'. We passed an older man, walking stiffly towards San Esteban like us, a rucksack on his back and bearing two walking sticks. His journey looked harder than ours, his face showed lines of pain. When we stopped to absorb the view or had taken an interesting detour from the path he caught up with us again and we exchanged shy smiles. Wild flowers were abundant everywhere, I don't think I've ever seen so many; campion, saxifrage, daisy, thrift, lilies plus many more I couldn't name. I'd love to know their local Spanish names*.
We passed many wild beaches, some with steep and dangerous looking tracks downwards, a few inaccessible except for birds. This is a coast of legends, folk tales and tragedy, one beach is named after a local man, murdered in a cave on the beach and at yet another, a strange rock formation is said to be a knight turned to stone after falling for a water nymph under an evil spell.
The path hugs the cliff top edge but is shaded in many places by trees so even in the heat of midday it is very pleasant. Occasionally it drops down into fern covered glades, wooden bridges crossing little streams. As you near San Esteban, the trees drop away and at the end of the path sits a tiny chapel, the Capilla del Espiritu Santo, built on the site of a former lighthouse, for sailors and fishermen. Inside, the chapel is dominated by large wooden altar framing an oil painting of the coast we had just walked with a three dimensional sacred dove flying protectively overhead. Despite its isolation, the altar was dressed in pristine white lace with vases of fresh flowers. At the back of the chapel the views stretched across the entire coast, disappearing into the haze of the hot afternoon.
Sadly, the path leading down the back of the chapel was cordoned off for repair so we had to complete our final descent into San Esteban by road. This is camino country so walkers are well catered for and we had our own little lane although traffic was pretty much none existent. The road curved around through the trees allowing occasional glimpses of the wide riverside harbour of this industrial town, once the biggest coal port along this coast. We headed for the large cranes lining the river side, looking for Restaurant Can de Ribera, which had been recommended as a good place for lunch. Facing the river, it was full of contented diners but there was still space on the covered terrace in the sun. We opted for the menu del dia, the excellent value set menu offered at most Spanish restaurants for la comida, the midday meal.
With appetites enhanced by the long walk we settled in to enjoy lunch. From the sneaky glances at the other tables, it looked like we'd lucked out, everything looked delicious. First up, an aperitivo, a plate of jamón and cheese toasts with little skewers of marinated artichokes and piquillo peppers which arrived with large unlabelled bottle of icy cold white wine. It was fabulous, scoffed in minutes and swiftly followed by a baked tuna pasta dish. Rich with tomato, this tasted like a favourite from student days and was all the better for doing so. As we ate, a late arrival pulled up a chair at the table next to us, the walker we had passed at many points earlier. He parked his walking sticks and we smiled in acknowledgement at each other, hungry travellers bonding over good food. He looked as grateful as we did to be sitting down with a glass of vino and fantastic lunch.
The dishes kept on arriving, super fresh merluza a la plancha, the hake fragrant with garlic and herbs was next and the bottle of wine slowly emptied. Next to us, our fellow walker slurped his way noisily through an enormous plate of seafood. The remains of langoustines, clams, prawns and crab piled high on his plate as the level in his bottle of wine caught up with ours. We were offered a choice of dessert and opted for the arroz con leche, cold rice pudding rich with orange scented cream and a dusting of cinnamon. It was divine, a perfect finish to a marvellous lunch. Coffee followed, with a little glass of a clear florally scented digestif and a tiny biscuit. Our companion drained his bottle and asked for a brandy, I suspect his post lunch walk may have been a little slower but this is typical of Spain, lunch is taken very seriously, there is always the siesta to recover. It's a very civilised way of life and one I could easily get used too.
The total bill for our lunch? Twenty four euros, and yes, that was for four courses, wine, water, bread, coffee and digestif. How can you fail to love a country that serves such lovely food for such an affordable sum?
We wished our fellow walker goodbye (he looked very content as he raised his second brandy in cheerful response) and wandered along the river edge towards the FEVE station to catch a train back to Cudillero. I think we were the only passengers on the train. Negotiating the change of train at Pravia became a little more complicated mainly due to wine consumption but we managed it in the end. Alighting at the tiny station of Pito Piñera we walked back through fields of flowers with Asturian cows our only witness, occasionally spotting the blue and yellow shell sign indicating the route of the Camino de Santiago. A perfect day, the sort of day that holiday memories are made of.
*If you know the local names of these flowers, please let me know.
Following on from my posts from my trip to Asturias, further posts are published on InnTravel's excellent The Slow Lane, inspirational tips and trips for taking life at a slower pace.
A Piper's Dream - following the bagpipe around the streets of Oviedo.
Welcome to Ribadesella - exploring this fantastic coastal town on the edge of the Picos de Europa.
Lunch at Arbidel - celebrating in style at chef Jaime Uz's Michelin starred restaurant.
In late May, the beach was practically deserted despite the glorious weather. At one end of the beach, a bar, the only building, was just opening up, the waitress setting out the weathered tables and chairs on the terrace just above the sand. We stopped for a coffee and to purchase some water for the walk ahead (the Cudillero tourist office had warned us the route was steep). Refreshed and ready we set off, the start climbing steadily in the hot midday sun. The saying 'mad dogs and Englishmen' was mentioned several times as the path went steeply upwards along the cliff edge.
Lizards darted across our path every few steps, we even saw a snake (perhaps a slow worm), our curiosity tempered with caution just in case. Occasionally we crossed paths with other walkers from the opposite direction with a friendly '¡Hola!'. We passed an older man, walking stiffly towards San Esteban like us, a rucksack on his back and bearing two walking sticks. His journey looked harder than ours, his face showed lines of pain. When we stopped to absorb the view or had taken an interesting detour from the path he caught up with us again and we exchanged shy smiles. Wild flowers were abundant everywhere, I don't think I've ever seen so many; campion, saxifrage, daisy, thrift, lilies plus many more I couldn't name. I'd love to know their local Spanish names*.
We passed many wild beaches, some with steep and dangerous looking tracks downwards, a few inaccessible except for birds. This is a coast of legends, folk tales and tragedy, one beach is named after a local man, murdered in a cave on the beach and at yet another, a strange rock formation is said to be a knight turned to stone after falling for a water nymph under an evil spell.
The path hugs the cliff top edge but is shaded in many places by trees so even in the heat of midday it is very pleasant. Occasionally it drops down into fern covered glades, wooden bridges crossing little streams. As you near San Esteban, the trees drop away and at the end of the path sits a tiny chapel, the Capilla del Espiritu Santo, built on the site of a former lighthouse, for sailors and fishermen. Inside, the chapel is dominated by large wooden altar framing an oil painting of the coast we had just walked with a three dimensional sacred dove flying protectively overhead. Despite its isolation, the altar was dressed in pristine white lace with vases of fresh flowers. At the back of the chapel the views stretched across the entire coast, disappearing into the haze of the hot afternoon.
Sadly, the path leading down the back of the chapel was cordoned off for repair so we had to complete our final descent into San Esteban by road. This is camino country so walkers are well catered for and we had our own little lane although traffic was pretty much none existent. The road curved around through the trees allowing occasional glimpses of the wide riverside harbour of this industrial town, once the biggest coal port along this coast. We headed for the large cranes lining the river side, looking for Restaurant Can de Ribera, which had been recommended as a good place for lunch. Facing the river, it was full of contented diners but there was still space on the covered terrace in the sun. We opted for the menu del dia, the excellent value set menu offered at most Spanish restaurants for la comida, the midday meal.
With appetites enhanced by the long walk we settled in to enjoy lunch. From the sneaky glances at the other tables, it looked like we'd lucked out, everything looked delicious. First up, an aperitivo, a plate of jamón and cheese toasts with little skewers of marinated artichokes and piquillo peppers which arrived with large unlabelled bottle of icy cold white wine. It was fabulous, scoffed in minutes and swiftly followed by a baked tuna pasta dish. Rich with tomato, this tasted like a favourite from student days and was all the better for doing so. As we ate, a late arrival pulled up a chair at the table next to us, the walker we had passed at many points earlier. He parked his walking sticks and we smiled in acknowledgement at each other, hungry travellers bonding over good food. He looked as grateful as we did to be sitting down with a glass of vino and fantastic lunch.
The dishes kept on arriving, super fresh merluza a la plancha, the hake fragrant with garlic and herbs was next and the bottle of wine slowly emptied. Next to us, our fellow walker slurped his way noisily through an enormous plate of seafood. The remains of langoustines, clams, prawns and crab piled high on his plate as the level in his bottle of wine caught up with ours. We were offered a choice of dessert and opted for the arroz con leche, cold rice pudding rich with orange scented cream and a dusting of cinnamon. It was divine, a perfect finish to a marvellous lunch. Coffee followed, with a little glass of a clear florally scented digestif and a tiny biscuit. Our companion drained his bottle and asked for a brandy, I suspect his post lunch walk may have been a little slower but this is typical of Spain, lunch is taken very seriously, there is always the siesta to recover. It's a very civilised way of life and one I could easily get used too.
The total bill for our lunch? Twenty four euros, and yes, that was for four courses, wine, water, bread, coffee and digestif. How can you fail to love a country that serves such lovely food for such an affordable sum?
We wished our fellow walker goodbye (he looked very content as he raised his second brandy in cheerful response) and wandered along the river edge towards the FEVE station to catch a train back to Cudillero. I think we were the only passengers on the train. Negotiating the change of train at Pravia became a little more complicated mainly due to wine consumption but we managed it in the end. Alighting at the tiny station of Pito Piñera we walked back through fields of flowers with Asturian cows our only witness, occasionally spotting the blue and yellow shell sign indicating the route of the Camino de Santiago. A perfect day, the sort of day that holiday memories are made of.
*If you know the local names of these flowers, please let me know.
Following on from my posts from my trip to Asturias, further posts are published on InnTravel's excellent The Slow Lane, inspirational tips and trips for taking life at a slower pace.
A Piper's Dream - following the bagpipe around the streets of Oviedo.
Welcome to Ribadesella - exploring this fantastic coastal town on the edge of the Picos de Europa.
Lunch at Arbidel - celebrating in style at chef Jaime Uz's Michelin starred restaurant.
Comments
Post a Comment