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Published: October 28th 2011
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We headed north. It was 600ks to Salamanca, but that was nothing to a young man who stupidly tried to drive from Alice Springs to Canberra in one day. And, it was cooler up north. The drive was great – I concentrated really hard on trying to drive smoothly, and, I won. At one point the trip computer told me we would do 1300kms on one tank. Love the Citroen turbodiesel.
We made camp at a place called Don Quijote. The bloke checking us in was some kind of ninja – cranky French folk, demanding Dutch and a whole bunch of others rocking up all at once didn't faze him even a little. The campsite was good, but a little far from anything useful, so we drove to the shops. Here we found the worst roundabouts I've ever seen. And I confirmed by suspicions about Spanish drivers. They are actually fairly irritating. Annoyingly law abiding and not at all confident – stopping to give way on a motorway entry ramp only one example of the craziness.
We stopped only the one night In Salamanca – we would have to leave that part of Spain for another trip. We instead
drove another 500k day, this time to Santiago de Compostela. Staying at Camping As Cancelas. Yes, that's right...
As Cancelas. Not Las. It was yet another variation of a Romance language, this time it was Galician. Signs which say the same thing in slightly different spelling. A slight huffiness when Spanish was used. People whose whole identity is that tied up with language really need to get out more.
A dirt campsite again, but some trees this time. The country, though, was vastly different. Green fringed mountains, wooden houses – it was lush where the rest of Spain was dry and just a little forbidding. We did some massive detours just to try and get to some sort of lookout, just to get a view of the beautiful landscape, but we continually kept getting sucked back onto the motorway. It was like being near a black hole.
Lots of pilgrims in Santiago de Compostela, doing stupid pilgrim stuff. Not sure why you can't just go see something if you're religious. You're not allowed to say “Hey, let's go have a babaganook at Rome/Mecca/Varanasi because it looks tops!!”. No, you have to full on put yourself through misery first. Walk
on your knees until they bleed, abstain from eating during the day, swim in polluted rivers...or walk clear across France and the top of Spain with a big stick.
Still, a very lovely little town was Santiago. We wen out for a walk around, and found decent beer and excellent seafood. Not so many tourists as the rest of Spain, and the ones here weren't looking to cook themselves in the sun – and I think that was the major difference.
Then we kept driving. Not sure where to – our destination was indefinite. Somewhere along the north coast. It was an excellent drive round the coast of Galicia. Some beautiful towns, and absolutely spectacular coastline. At one point we almost ended up at San Antonio. then we read just that bit further in the lonely planet. Some more pilgrim type malarkey. A wacky apparition of the Virgin or some such. We gave it a miss.
There were a lot of riders out, enjoying their Sunday on the winding coast roads, and we followed them to a town called Cariño. We drove in because we were hungry, then saw the Restaurante Australia. So we stopped, as you
do, and had a feed. Cheap, but good.
But we were taking our time, and finding a campsite was a bit more problematic than finding lunch. The first few we tried were chockas with beach goers, so we gave them, a miss. We finally found a place called Las Vinas just outside the tiny town town of ....honestly, no idea. It was a small campground, pretty quiet. The calm puncutated only by a young Spanish girl giving her older brother a lesson in football skills – i.e. a flogging.
Then, a new state/semi-autonomous region/province...something. Asturias. Our first stop was Salas. There was a great castle there. Of course, it was being worked on, so we had a coffee instead, and watched the Camino de Santiago fools, trudge up the road. If there is a way to enjoy Northern Spain I don't think this mob had found it.
On our way we got off the motorway and through the mountains. More spectacular countryside ensued. It all looked very different to the rest of Spain. No olives and dust here – all was green and fertile. We spotted a campsite at Codovanga, right by the creek. A really lovely
campsite with no caravans allowed – always a plus. The young bloke at the reception was very helpful, showing each new punter to their sites. I think he simply enjoyed hammering around the place on his little 2-stroke minibike, scattering wayward children like so many chickens. Codavanga was a very picturesque little Asturian town – a pleasant creek, typical houses with the attached food storage/drying constructions, and an oversupply of stinging nettles.
It absolutely pissed rain over night, and packing up in the rain is an excellent way to start the day. But at least it gets everyone moving quickly – once you can muster up the energy to get going.
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