Bike Ride Day 7 - Llanes to Ribadesella

I finished my last bike ride day today in the coastal town of Ribadesella. I celebrated the end of the ride by having some fresh local seafood and a couple of beers for lunch, although this is pretty much what I do every day. Final tally – 195 miles, many close encounters but no collisions, no mechanical failures and not even a flat tire. So, success.





Along the way here I kept seeing signs for the Bufones de Pria (“sea geysers”), and my biking directions said it would be worth a detour to see them. The closer I got to the parking area the larger the crowds grew, and by the time I was walking down the path to these things, there were a lot of people around.






When I got there I found myself on some pretty cliffs that drop down into the ocean, but no bufones. Long story short, the bufones turn out to be small cylindrical channels eroded from the top of the cliff all the way to the ocean. When there are severe storms with very heavy winds, the force of the ocean crashing into the bottom of the cliff wall pushes water all the way up through these channels so that they shoot water out the top. So basically, the only time you can actually see the Bufones de Pria is when you really shouldn’t be out there.






When I got to town I stashed my stuff and immediately jumped into the ocean to celebrate. Then I immediately jumped out because the water was so cold that my legs were numb. But as the only person in the water without a wetsuit, I’m sure the other people at the beach thought I was pretty cool.










And then I just walked around town.

On to the cider pouring. In Asturias (the province I’m in now) hard cider is a thing. This is how it works. You buy a bottle. The server holds the glass in one hand dropped as low as possible, and holds the bottle in the other hand held as high as possible and then pours the cider into the glass from that distance so that a nice foamy head forms (I guess they haven’t discovered kegs). The pros (like this guy) do this right at the table, not even paying attention and dropping the cider into the glass perfectly every time. And when the pour is done, you down it – no sipping. When you want more, you ask the waiter to pour another one. I know this from experience.











The amateurs, like this guy I saw at a different place, walk over to a cider splash protector and pour there to avoid the embarrassment of spraying the customers.


















Speaking of embarrassment, have you ever seen such a charming and delightful depiction of head lice? It’s nice to finally see a pharmacy with a sense of humor.











Some pictures from today’s ride:

Bike Ride Day 6 - San Vicente de la Barquera to Llanes

In one extremely long sentence, as I say hasta luego to San Vicente de la Barquera, where I had some very fresh seafood last night that everyone else was eating like candy but I was dissecting like an anatomy lab assignment, I don’t wonder if my ride this morning will start with an uphill climb; I only wonder how steep and long the climb will be.







Anyway, today's ride took me directly north of the Picos de Europa . . .










. . . some very tall craggy mountains that I hiked in when I took my first solo trip here two years ago (seen here in the distance).











And in an amazing coincidence that is meaningful to me and no one else, when I went to Picos de Europa two years ago to go hiking, I drove west on the main highway and then turned off at a small town to head south toward the mountains. Today taking a different route, I rode my bike into and out of that very same town. It brought back memories of my first trip here, which now seems like a long time ago.









My ride ended today at Llanes, which is much larger than the towns I’ve been in the last couple of  days, which I prefer because the place doesn’t totally shut down at 9:00.











Plus the wifi here is great, which means I don’t have to walk all around the hotel with my laptop trying to find a decent signal, something that both the hotels and I find uncomfortable. This part of Spain is known for two things, anchovies and milk, neither of which gets me really excited (either in combination or standing alone). But the web is full of people describing just how great the milk is here. Whatever. But you will see in this picture a "lecheria," which is basically an artisanal milk store. Kind of like hand-made soap but, you know, for milk.

Bike Ride Day 5 - Santanilla del Mar to San Vicente de la Barquera

Because, I guess, I haven’t ridden up enough hills this week, my ride today started by going up a small mountain. It does make sense – coastal towns are where they are because they’re on the water. There aren’t any towns where the water is too far below the land, so that’s where the roads are that connect the towns. It seems obvious enough now to explain why the website for this bike tour didn’t mention that there would be a lot of elevation changes on this ride.

But actually my day started with this. I captured a tiny sample of it so that you could experience my life in Spain this morning. First thing, I recommend that before you play this video you put on headphones and turn your computer audio up as loud as it will go. Second thing, note that this is actually a conversation between two neighbors, one in the distance and one about ten feet from my window. If you’d like to capture the full experience of my morning, just repeat this video over and over again for about an hour.

I ended up in San Vicente de la Barquera, a working fishing village that also seems pretty popular for travelers.















The entire town is protected by the government because of its beauty and historical value.







One of the main focal points is a beautiful bridge started in the 1400’s that goes across the town’s tidal basin. While it’s generally considered a marvel of engineering for its time, one of the comments posted on TripAdvisor is “Not sure what you can say about a bridge. It goes over the water connecting the town to the other side. People fish from it.” But I say anyone who says something like that probably never saw the “transporter” I took across the river in Bilbao on Sunday, which is something that makes you appreciate bridges.










My hotel isn’t on par with the four-star facilities with which I have become accustomed, but it will
do.







Anyway, on to today’s ocean views . . .

Bike Ride Day 4 - Santander to Santanilla del Mar

My ride today, which took place in a combination of fog and drizzle that I will not call “frizzle,” was actually pretty pleasant because it wasn’t as hot as the last few days. And again, I rode past countless beaches in some extremely isolated areas in which I was glad not to have had a mechanical breakdown.

Like this one, which is called a “beach,” but not in my book.

And here’s a place I’m glad my chain didn't break.

I covered a lot of varied terrain – here’s a video that shows some of it starting with leaving downtown Santander.

Speaking of which, Santander was pretty great. In retrospect I wish I’d had more time there. There’s a very vibrant downtown with lots of activity, art, music festivals (one of which I just missed), etc. And as with most Spanish cities, it has its mysteries. Like why, in memoriam to a very large fire in 1941 that destroyed most of the city, is there a collection of statues of nude people standing on the grass? Especially in light of the fact that there was only one death attributed to the fire (ironically a firefighter).

Anyway, as usual I rode up lots of hills (and if you are wondering, yes, my legs are sore), and ended up in Santanilla del Mar, a very old, charming village that is slightly inland and despite its narrow winding streets seems to have lots of room for busloads of tourists. This is the one place I’ve been to on this trip where it seems like the foreigners outnumber the locals.

Like the village, my hotel is also old and charming and smells a little like damp mothballs.

A few miles from here are the Altamira cave where the famous prehistoric paintings were found, and the Altamira museum. I debated long and hard about whether to go there, but in the end did not. The actual cave was closed to the public in 1977 after it was discovered that having so many people visit was destroying the paintings (as a species we always seem to be having that effect on everything). So now there’s only the Altamira museum with a fiberglass replica of the cave. Somehow that doesn’t really call to me. 

So I’m going to have some dinner, go to bed and, I don’t know, maybe go for a bike ride tomorrow.

These are some other pictures from my ride today.

Bike Ride Day 3 - Santoña to Santander

From my room on the top floor of a four-star hotel overlooking the bay of Santander, where my most difficult recent decision was whether to wash my t-shirt in hand soap, bath gel or body milk (whatever that is), I have almost forgotten the challenges that today’s ride presented.

While I did get pretty lost due, as usual, to over-reliance on technology and under-reliance on common sense, most of what made today’s ride a challenge was what happened when I was on what turned out to be the correct path.

Parts of my ride today were really out in the middle of nowhere, in places where there were few indications of active civilization, no road signs and no cell phone reception or internet. Add to this some huge hills, a blazing sun, diminishing water and no real idea where I was, and it was pretty memorable. Plus I was following directions like (quoted here verbatim):







“KM 28.8 Keep left at fork with tree in middle.” Check

















“KM 32.1 Turn right just before reaching ruined farmhouse.” Check







And as I was finally approaching civilization, “KM 46.1 Turn right just between house and picnic area with bus stop.” Check and check.

I was so frazzled (and dehydrated) at the time that at one point when the directions said “Bear to the left of Camping Playa de Ajo and then after the Camping bear right at the fork,” I briefly thought to myself, “What the hell is a camping bear?” Which would be funny except that it’s true. Which made it a little pitiful. In retrospect it seems both funny and pitiful. But it's more funny if you try to imagine a camping bear.








On the other hand, I passed a lot of very pretty areas, which may or may not have been where I was supposed to be.

Anyway, I made it to the ferry, which was much different than yesterday’s ferry, and made it to my hotel for a shower and took a little break.







On a positive note, I passed so many beaches that I pretty much lost count. I even stopped at a couple.

Bike Ride Day 2 - Castro Urdiales to Santoña

Today was a pretty short ride from one beach town to another (not counting the mountains in between). I now realize that you can only have one road along any given coast, so when people or suppliers or buses go from one coastal town to the next, they have to go on that road. I have learned to share.








It was kind of overcast when I left Castro Murieles, which made me think maybe I wouldn’t spend my time on the bike day drenched in sweat. But the clouds rapidly disappeared and I rapidly got disgusting.










Much of my ride in the last two days has either intersected or shared the Camino de Santiago, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. On one hand, it’s nice to see all the people focused on unplugging from society and spending a couple of weeks in quiet contemplative thought. Unfortunately, when they’re on my road, they’re dodging the same buses and milk trucks that I am.




I am getting to see a lot of very, very small towns (or towns that used to be small and didn’t plan so well for growth). In this one, Laredo, the main road coming in is so narrow that there’s a traffic light at each end to control whose turn it is to go down the old main street. Once you get through, there’s a city.

At one point today, the riding directions told me to go to the beach and catch a ferry across to
Santoña, the town close to where I was staying. I went to the beach and didn’t see anything but beach.









This is why. And after we were a couple of hundred yards out and on the way to the other side, some other people came down to the beach and waved, so the boat turned around and came back to pick them up. Which gave the guy on the boat who collects the fares more time to try to sell us his jars of salted anchovies. Hey, everyone’s got to make a living.








When I eventually got to the Berria beach, where tonight’s four-star hotel is, this is what I got. It’s
very beautiful and swimmable. My room has a private balcony overlooking the ocean. My shower has a window overlooking the ocean.













I also hiked up this thing.
















On a trail that looks like this.

The red circle is my hotel.








I could easily spend a couple of days here, but the busload of British retirees that just pulled up here and lined up in the lobby reminds me that I have more to see.