July 25, 2023
Day 6 - Langreo to Cadevedo
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If I had to describe today as one thing, it would be "comical". It's actually been a really good ride, but there have been several things that have left me chuckling. Apologies if this makes no sense, I am slightly more tipsy than usual.
So I decided to put into effect my plan of cutting off some of the dull and skippable suburbs of Oviedo by putting the bike on the suburban (Caracenas) train. After a slightly dodgy breakfast - on the plus side, I got hold of fruit and snacks for lunch, on the minus side I think the pre-packaged croissants may actually have been off, which is pretty amazing. Now I know how to buy a ticket this was pretty straightforward. I got chatting to a guy who was clearly appraising my bike with a professional eye - we had a pretty good conversation considering we didn't speak more than a few words of the common language. He was very interested in my tyres for some reason (though they are good - still no flats, touch wood).
I really did have to go for it lifting the loaded bike onto the train. Was slightly worried I'd done my back a mischief again, but no harm done. The train conductor was also curious about the bike, but no problem at all letting it be carried on board. Getting out of the underground Oviedo station was a bit of a pain the arse, since the lift was too small I lifted it up the stairs.
Leaving Oviedo was actually fine, minimal pain for navigating a city suburbs. I passed a water fountain, was about to fill up, then some absolute animals let their dog drink from it. Did I still drank from it after that? If you need to ask that question, you might want to familiarise yourself with the man who cooked pasta in puddle water...
I got on a pretty nice road, with some climbing that I didn't mind, avoiding the national roads out to the west and bringing me around to the deep valley of the river Nalon. I passed numerous small villages, marvelling at the sub-1000m elevations. At once point I passed a massive verge-cutting operations, where they waved me through specially.
I was making pretty good time when I came to the town of Pravia, on the Nalon. I thought I'd acquire more supplies here for lunch - let me tell you, it's easier to find a dentist in small town Spain than it is to find an open shop to sell you cheese. I did eventually find an Alimentacion, and got supplies.
I thought I'd be bold and try an obscure route marked on my map that'd take off a good portion of the coast road. After I'd climbed 100m and gone a few km, it petered out in a rough dirt climb. I'd had more than enough of that sort of thing so elected to turn back, though it always pains me.
Then I had a lovely climb through the village of Los Cabos, where I had lunch. It was cracking on a fair bit, 3pm by the time I left - I was moving pretty slowly, which might have something to do with the cold which seems to be the only malady I've actually contracted.
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I spun down towards the N road and actually saw the sea! I great moment, after being up at high elevation for some long. After some casting around I realised I'd have to ride the National road. At first it was very boring, at least having a wide shoulder but completely anonymous and full of traffic. Then it improved massively - all the traffic was sucked onto the parallel autovia and it became much more characterful, and gave views of the sea.
I was tiring somewhat as I pulled up out of the village of Soto de Luina (a beautiful name, for a beautiful place). I had passed a trio of loaded bikes outside the supermarket there, and was surprised as the young lads riding them overtook me going up the hill, greeting me enthusiastically. Impressive stuff.
I'm getting old and slow, I thought. But ah - while they might have youth on their side (and muscle tone, optimism, good looks, easy charm, their whole futures ahead of them etc...) they didn't have what I have acquired with age - great bitterness, spite, but most relevantly here: stamina. They got tired out coming after the next hill and I reeled them in!
Then I Tortoise and Hared those friendly motherfuckers! I schooled them Aesop style! They'd always overtake me climbing the hills (and frankly on the flats) but they needed to stop for rests, while I just kept [slowly] going on. After passing them for the third time, with them shouting encouragement (bless them, really) I lost them for good, and was virtually crowing as I finally beat them into Cadevedo on the coast after some long and hilly miles, the road constantly rising and falling.
But here's where the hubris comes in. For as I rode smugly into the campsite it was fully booked. No, no possibility. Fortunately the girl on reception spoke no English so I hope my muttered "fuck's sake" and "bollocks" didn't come across too badly.
I wheeled around town, puzzled about what I should do. To continue to Lluarca, which had been one plan, would probably finish me off. My Garmin came to the rescue suggesting there was a pilgrim's aubergue. I was game! It took me ages to find it, it really was expertly hidden, with no sign whatsoever because I guess the Camino provides. I had to ask two sets of people, one in French, and got very contradictory answers.
In the end I found it. It is ... odd. It's run by a charming woman who seems a bit - out of it? Like in a serious dream state. Serious Simone Weil vibes. The albergue itself is a pretty tumbledown old house, it seems very laid back. I was a bit afraid they might see I'm not a proper pilgrim (not to mention an atheist heathen) but after a little puzzlement at my credencial all is good (and when I actually said I was heading to a town the wrong way next). Not especially cheap at 12 euros but frankly who's counting, it's peanuts.
Then I wondered into town, a little worried that I might get locked out the aubergue if it had a curfew. I found a great little bar, was delighted to see it did food, was even more delighted that some of it was vegetarian and to see all the villagers I'd asked for help come in and greet me. Drank a massive Asturian cider costing about 2 euros and got quite emotional reading my novel and generally overcome by the beneficience of the world. Total cost of my evening - 12 euros. Bloody brilliant country.
My back up plan was to climb into the window of the dormitory I'm sleeping in - it's right open just beside me as I write this. Or failing that, put up the tent. No need, fortunately. The odd proprietress was harvesting marrows (?!) in her garden and everything is open.
Right, off to spend a night in the dorm, like a proper pilgrim.
Today's ride: 93 km (58 miles)
Total: 519 km (322 miles)
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