Rocky Mountain High(John Denver) - Time to head south from the coast to the interior of Cubillos de Sil

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We are really ‘coast’ people having lived all our lives close to the seaside.

But today we are off into the great interior of Spain, a vast country where in the middle you would be hundreds of kilometres from the coast.

Well perhaps the ‘great interior’ is a bit of an over exaggeration but we will be a good 150 kilometres as the crow flies when we get to our overnight accommodation in Cubillos de Sil.

Our accommodation for the last 2 nights had lived up to its 9.8 rating on booking.com, until this morning that is.

We are leaving our apartment unshowered as’ the hot water system broke down in the night’ as the pleasant man on the reception desk informed Gretchen when she went looking for the reason why the shower only ran cold water. Give it an hour she was told and there would be hot water again.

We held on as long as we could aware that we had a good days travel ahead and then gave up waiting for the elusive hot water to run through the taps.Oh,well we would both be unwashed so sharing the car for a few hours each in the same condition shouldn’t be noticeable.

Overall though the apartment had been very good with plenty of room to move around and comfortable settee in the lounge and bed to sleep in plus of course the very well equipped kitchen.

As we left we noticed the chimney of the boileroom puffing our smoke vigoursly so perhaps it was still going to be a while before the water got to be warm enough to shower.

We started out on the A8 zipping along for the first 10kms to where we found a petrol station and under the BBA V3 agreement we don’t head off to parts unknown without a full tank of petrol on board just in case.

The driver of the 4 wheel drive in front of us resembled one of the characters that Clint Eastwood used to shoot up in those spaghetti westerns made in the 1960’s,partly filmed in Spain and also some of the highest grossing movies here at that time.

We were diverted from his similarities when for the first time on the BBA V3 we didn’t have to fill the tank ourselves!

As we have mentioned before the Spanish are great at building viaducts and every one of them has a name from the longest down to the shortest.

Who gets to have their name on them is not clear but it is probably like other parts of the world and you have to be a local politician, mayor or someone of importance to have such a grand structure bear your name. Mind you, the numerous tunnels are all named too but we would opt for a viaduct if we were in line for naming rights as the structures look far more impressive than a tunnel!

The aim of the drive today was to follow as best we could one of the principal routes of the Camino Way once it left the coast and headed for the interior before turning west again towards Santiago.

The N634 had the signs we were looking for showing the pilgrims the way but there weren’t any on the road except for one solitary guy taking a rest at the brough of a hill supping on what looked like a bottle of Coca-Cola.

So without pilgrims to admire we took in the hilly countryside which we were surprised to find quite green. Previous excursions to the interior of Spain had always seemed brown and arid. Perhaps it was just coastal enough to pick up good rainfall for the land to be farmed.

In a short distance we passed two marvels from both end of the spectrum.

The first was a new 2 storied house being built and the builder had the assistance of a fully rigged crane. Admittedly it was on a hillside and perhaps there was going to be another story but it seemed like a costly exercise in building a house.

Shortly afterwards we passed a family out in their field using a donkey to pull a plough preparing the ground for the sowing of a spring crop.

What a diverse country this can be at times!

As we approached Cangas del Narcea, the only town on the route of any size on our atlas, the road dropped into a ravine and the countryside changed to a rocky landscape with the Rio Narcea running alongside the road.

The sky darkened as we drove into Cangas del Narcea and its location squeezed in the ravine gave it a dark and foreboding look.

As one expects the streets of the sizable town were narrow and haphazard in their direction and added to this were the locals going about their Saturday shopping before the impending rain arrived.

We found a car park down by the fast flowing river and walked up to the town to buy lunch at a panaderia (bakery).

We were drawn to the sound of music that had a sort of Gaelic ring to it.

In a pedestrian mall we came across a large group of shoppers gathered to watch a group of traditionally dressed group dancing to the music. We watched for the minutes that was remaining for the tune and then as they moved off to entertain further on we found the panaderia and purchased our baguette and sweet treats for lunch. Today it is to be a pastry a bit longer than an éclair filled with chocolate and dipped at both ends with chocolate.

With our mouths drooling we made our way back to the car through the traders markets that were closing and headed off to find a lay by out of the town to have lunch.

Most days when we have had travel to be done by car Gina has usually thrown us off track with directions that didn’t quite work out as we expected and today as we left Cangas del Narcea was no different as we headed off up a hillside that got steadily steeper and narrower to a point where we definitely knew we weren’t on the R213 as we expected to be.

We retraced our path and this time Gina got it right working in reverse and we were out of this rather gloomy looking town.

During our short stop in Cangas we didn’t find a toilet so there was little option but to use nature as she intended once we got to the first lay by that was far enough of the road and had the cover of trees nearby and out of sight of any passing traffic.

That done it was on with the boot lunch and although it was only 10C the air was still and it was pleasant enough to actually have lunch outside of the car.

As we had followed the ravine we had noticed a climb in the altitude of the road and every so often we spotted snow on hills in the distance. It appeared we were heading for the snowline and we had noticed that the atlas gave a point showing Puerto de Leitariegos at 1525 metres above sea level high enough for there to be snow.

It wasn’t raining ahead so we didn’t expect to have to drive through any snowy conditions and that was the way it turned out although at the summit the snow ploughed off the road and still hard and yet to thaw was as high as Peggy when we stopped.

With the outside temperature at 1C we didn’t hang around too long out of the car, just enough time to take some photos and video of the small ski field with 3 chairlifts operating in what may be the last days of the winter/spring ski season for this area.

The climb up to the summit had been steady but the drop down on the other side was steeper and we were quickly at a level where our run was fairly flat along a wider valley than the earlier ravine.

This took us into coal country although as in many parts of the western world this industry is in decline as coal can be mined cheaper elsewhere.

Passing through a couple of towns that clearly had relied upon the industry but now with their ugly looking plant closed up and looking derelict we arrived into a town where the mine was still operating and the streets looked a lot more prosperous.

We had noticed on Google Maps that there was a power station with two very tall chimney stacks adjacent to the accommodation we had booked for the night.

The proprietor, of the establishment, which was a collection of attractive timber cabins, told us the power station didn’t work at weekends so we were relieved we wouldn’t be in an environment of whatever it belched out for our overnight stay.

He was a friendly chap who spoke good English and after telling us that the place was full at Easter weekend, tonight we had it all to ourselves.Yep, we were the only guests and he was heading off after showing us around the cabin and its facilities.

As we left to head into Ponferrada, a city about 10km away across the vast valley floor, to find somewhere for dinner, we noted that the entrance to the park like establishment had a large iron gate that could be pulled across to close it off and we resolved to that when we came home after dinner so as not to show to any passing people that the place was open for business.

Being Saturday there was a game of football(soccer)happening at the local stadium on the way into the city and we sat and watched the final 20 minutes when we chose a bar to have tapas for dinner at just off the pedestrian mall in the centre of the city.

Almost all the shops were closed but as we left to head home at nearly 9pm the locals were out in greater numbers on the street than they had been when we arrived a couple of hours beforehand. Spaniards certainly seem to come more alive as the day comes to an end.

With the aid of an English translation on the menu we had tapas of crumbed squid and one of mushrooms and ham in a tasty sauce along with a large green salad with all you could ever want in a salad provided.

Our day hadn’t come to an end as we had a Skype call arranged back to NZ with the Flamingo Gang(we won’t go into detail here for those who don’t know us)a group of very good friends we have socialised with over the last 20+ years.

It was Doug’s 70^th birthday and the gang always celebrates 5’s and 10’sbut on this occasion we are just a bit far away to head over to the venue for the surprise breakfast celebrations.

Sure enough, pretty well on time the Skype call worked and we were able to join in and sing Happy Birthday to Doug and at the same time raise a glass of wine to him on his special day. All the gang were there and everyone had a turn at a chat with us.

Then it was time for bed as tomorrow we head west again.

We turned the lights out knowing that we were totally alone but we had closed the gate and hoped that no intruders got in during the night and found us an easy target.

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