I wasn’t really sure what to expect from this region of Spain. I was already stunned by what I had seen in the South. Landscapes I did not expect or think possible in this part of the world. The North looked so different yet again. I knew that the Picos de Europa national park was a land mark in that region and worth a visit but I still wasn’t sure what to expect.

 

The cloudy weather was a bit of a concern considering that I was going for a mountainous region and I knew I didn’t have much warm clothing let alone a second pair to change if I got wet.

The further I kept going the more mountains appeared on the horizon. I changed my heading from East to South going deeper into the national park.

The villages I passed through looked nothing like the Spain I knew from the South. In fact from time to time I forgot I was in Spain and thought I was driving through villages in the Austrian Alps.

My goal for the day was to enjoy the scenery and the view from higher up. However I also knew that it would get very difficult to find a good sleeping spot or any place at all for that matter. So I also started scanning the scenery for that purpose. The temperature had fallen to 15 degrees upon entering the national park and kept falling the higher I climbed. I knew this was going to be a cold night no matter where I set up my tent. The roads didn’t offer any chance to branch off into the forest where you could set up a tent like I did so many times before. There is barely enough space for the roads which are very narrow considering that they are for traffic from both directions.

I was already cold but my grip heating made all the difference and kept my body warm enough. The view from higher up was well worth it though.

Ever so often I had to remind myself that I was still in Spain.

I contemplated putting up my tent right where I was but any flat ground I saw was fenced in and clearly at some point populated by cows. So I kept going. The temperature had fallen below 11 degrees and so in a way I was glad I didn’t find any good opportunity to settle for a space there.

I drove down to a lower elevation again and passed through valleys and villages. I came across two official camp sites but didn’t want to stop there and pay 20 Euros when I had the chance to be out in the open for free a few kilometers further (even if it actually didn’t look like I was going to have that chance. Hence there were two real camp sites). So I kept riding further and further away from the camp sites until I started doubting my decision to not go for the official ones because there still wasn’t any place in sight to set up a tent.

I had traveled half way through the national park on it’s outer edge hoping to find more flat ground there but I didn’t get lucky so I decided to go deeper in.

Surprisingly this proved to be the right decision. I finally found a little path that was branching off the main road. It was extremely steep but prohibited for public traffic anyway. So I walked up it and just found myself surrounded by steep mountains on all sides. Still in full gear I felt I felt int necessary to explore every possible opportunity so I started walking up one of the mountainsides.

A few meters up I found the perfect spot. A relatively flat ground not an inch wider than what I needed for my tent. Even the temperature in the valley was pleasant. At 15 degrees I was going to be warm in my down sleeping bag.

I was exhausted and went to sleep right after dinner. I had been excited to finally be able to use my little gas stove again and make a warm meal after not having the opportunity in the dry south where the danger of fires was too high. However I was just too tired to carry my cooking equipment up the mountainside since it would have meant to climb up more than two times so dinner once again consisted of caned sea food. The canned octopus tasted delicious with fresh bread I had bought at one of the villages.

I left Santiago changing my heading for the final time: East! My goal was Gijon.

The landscape had changed again. No trace of the southern burning-sun-Spain. The vegetation was lush, the skies cloudy and the air damp.

I enjoyed the change and only hoped it wouldn’t rain as my jacket wasn’t waterproof.

Gijon lies on the northern coast of Spain. There are some nice old buildings but overall the city wasn’t too interesting and I only stayed for a few hours.

Gijon is one of the bigger cities along the coast and was on my route because of that and because it is the second of the two Spanish cities which are significant in Austrias football history. Earlier I had already visited Cordoba, the location of what is said to be the greatest game Austria ever played (“The miracle of Cordoba”). Well Gijon is exactly the opposite. It was nick named “Disgrace of Gijon” because in that game Germany (Austrias eternal arch nemesis in sports) and Austria both knew that with a particular score in that worldcup tournament game they would both be happy so they stopped playing after that score was achieved and the remaining half of the game was just an incredibly slow and underwhelming dribbling exercise with apologies for light tackles and no apparent desire to change the score.

Visiting the stadium of Gijon therefore obviously was a sad moment.

After this last stop in Gijon I set course for my last destination on my Spain trip. The national park “Picos de Europa”.

I was already very close to the northern tip of Portugal and crossed the border into Spain just when the weather started to change making me concerned about finding a good spot to put up my tent.

The joy about the smooth roads and less aggressive drivers however made up for the bad weather.

I took me about two hours to find a spot but it was a good one. At least so I thought.

Just when I had crawled into my comfy tent the rain started to fall. It was a strong downpour and it lasted throughout the whole night but I felt perfectly safe in my tent. After all it has a hydrostatic head of 5000mm (which should be enough for any rainy condition in Europe).

The next morning however I had learned a valuable lesson.

My tent was dry everywhere except for the floor. I hadn’t tucked in the outer edges of the ground cover on which I always set up my tent. I just didn’t think it would really rain when I set it up so I didn’t bother tucking in the edges. But now the water that dripped down from the tents walls right onto the floor cover collected in the middle beneath the floor of the tent. This much water is too much for any average tent. Luckily it got wet only where I had placed my sleeping mat on so none of my belongings got wet and I only noticed what had happened when I removed the rubber mat to pack my things in the morning.

The main problem resulting from this situation was that I didn’t want to pack a wet tent. I didn’t want any mold on it when I had the next chance to unpack everything again.

Luckily the plastic floor cover was rubbery enough so that the water just dripped of when I lifted it.

The tent however needed to dry. Once more the geodesic design of the tent came in handy. I could just pick it up and put it on it’s back like a lazy cat in the sun.

It rested there for an hour before I decided it was enough and we had to move on. It didn’t want to go and begged for just ten more minutes like they do but I started tearing it apart anyway. It was not a pretty sight..

My cruelty against my tent apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed as I was greeted by soldiers in full gear with their machine guns out when I returned from the forest.

It probably was just a training exercise but they didn’t make an effort to explain their presence. Instead they directed me opposite the direction I wanted to go but somehow I was not in the mood to argue with them.

My next stop was going to be Santiago de Compostela. A famous pilgrimage city.

 

I had already lost half of the day and still had a few hours of driving ahead of me.

The night was surprisingly comfortable. The temperature was just right. I didn’t even need my warm sleeping bag.

There was some condensation below my tent but the inside didn’t get wet.

I often don’t eat any breakfast at all but this time it consisted of half a kilo of strawberries.

Today my goal was Coimbra. The only reason really why I wanted to visit Coimbra were these guys: Bastiano Joao & Antonio Coimbra de la Coronilla y Azevedo.

If you don’t know these two it’s still not a bad idea to pay Coimbra a visit as it also happens to be a beautiful university city.

Many bridges connect the two sides of the city.

A castle wall like from a fairy tail.

Of course there were also many churches.

One of the many universities on the hill …

… can be visited while people are studying.

Many roads were still made of cobble stones which is great but it made driving uncomfortable. They were slippery as ice. Going downhill was a challenge especially on two wheels.

I left the city in the late afternoon once again not knowing where I would sleep that night.