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”.