¿Te gusta mariscos?

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With the excitement of the Picos now ten days ago we have returned to more sedate wanderings along the north coast enroute to Gijon. Gijon is where the campsites on the Camino del Norte dry up and the path turns inland. From Gijon we will take a bus back to Bilbao to meet our ferry.

We crossed from Cantabria into Asturias several days ago. Although we have covered limited ground in our latest region of Spain Cantanbria’s beaches and coastal town are much the superior. The highlight of our time so far in Asturias has been our gastronomic encounters with the local seafood. On our first night in Llanes we were sat outside our tent looking out to sea enjoying a post dinner mint tea when one of our neighbours returned. He was a middle aged Spanish man who keenly approached us in his intriguing yellow Malibu (the drink not the place) vest. He seemed a chirpy character and when he questioned us about our liking of seafood we responded with enthusiasm. Before we knew it four energetic palm sized crabs had been delivered into our cooking pot. Instructions from our new friend followed to put them in boiling water until red. It was an unusual outcome from a simple question. Normally finding our food already dead and neatly packaged on a supermarket shelf the thought of slaughtering our currently live desert was unappealing. Our reticence was short lived. Our stove was reignited and we went about our duties. Further instructions followed from our seafood tutor on how to remove the inedible parts. Now virtually dark the required careful preparation was challenging. We scooped and cracked our way through the unexpected tasty addition to our dinner. The following morning we provided a full report to our seafood tutor (now adorned in fluffy orange teddy bear pyjamas) who promised us mussels for lesson two that evening. The mussels and a crab arrived, fished out of the nearby port, to extend and reinforce our learning of the previous night. The mussels were fat from the stormy seas of that day and cooked quickly over a hot flame. As our tutor gently prodded them one of us held the pan in place and the other pointed the torch. It was surprisingly magical as they hissed from the salty sea water they contained gradually one-by-one easing open. Consumption met with mixed reviews. It was with a certain amount of regret that we moved onwards down our path the following day leaving our wackily attired seafood educator behind.

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