The early morning sun was rising over the beach of Playa de San Lorenzo and it was the perfect time for Gijóners to catch a wave. The surfers were already out and it was fun to watch them with our feet in the sand and waves rolling with their splash up our legs.
What a beautiful way to start a day. The breakfast-room of our hotel was on the top floor overlooking the whole bay, and we were glad it was already the end of the season and calm.
We had to leave the city along the Río Piles through a beautiful park. We got a little bit lost trying to find the right bike path to head out of town and not to follow the wrong riverbed, but a friendly family showed us the right way and we finally reached the campus of the University. You could tell that this was the area where people had their villas, and there was even a golf course close by. When we got out of the suburbs the landscape was very green with fields and eucalyptus forests, and a beautiful view over Gijón. Our route required to go more and more uphill into the Alto de Curbiellu.
Suddenly Robert called me from far away to stop to let him catch up. He looked sad and told me that he had lost his favourite pullover from his luggage rack. My first reaction was to bike back and find it, while Robert could have waited up there in a little bar or restaurant, but the only one close by was closed. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he had lost it. It could have been down by the university or even earlier in the city. We discussed what to do and decided to continue, because we would have lost nearly two more hours by going all the way down and then uphill again.
Robert really missed his favoured piece, which was perfect for biking having a front with a wind stopper and a warming back in merino. I totally understood him being sad and we were both a bit down, but we figured that if that’s all we had lost until now we were really lucky, and there had to be some sacrifice for all the good things we had experienced by now.
Once we had reached the Alto Curbiellu we were forced to lose all the altitude again which we had gained, and rolled down to Peón. Unfortunately, they had marked a restaurant on the wrong side of a crossroads in our tour guide of the Camino del Norte, and we took the first road left although it should have been the second. Luckily my orientation told me quickly that we couldn’t have more downhill because we had already crossed the river and shouldn’t continue along the valley floor. So we turned back to follow a long climb uphill to the Alto de la Cruz. There was hardly any traffic and we could follow our rhythm.
At the top we were still in the forest and didn’t have the great view which we expected but a short break. Once we were on our downhill again we left the woods after a few turns and could enjoy the splendid panorama and were able to see for the first time all the way to the Picos de Europa at the horizon. After the Palacio Niévares we stopped at the chapel of Santa Eulalia but it was closed. We met a young French pilgrim on his bike, and we recommended him not to take the hiking trail of the pilgrims but to keep following the road. And if he found a blue pullover lying on the way to Gijón it would be his.
Following the valley towards the historic town of Villaviciosa was a real joy and we had lunch at the restaurant El Charran, which was run by a German lady.
From there we had still some distance to make and were forced to cross the highway several times until we finally could leave it behind us after Sebrayo. The landscape was very green with apple trees, fields and forests. From Vega we had to climb up again in sharp turns to Priesca, to gain altitude for the next valley welcoming us. Colunga was the last village before we followed some field roads to arrive in La Isla during sunset.
The Marejada hostel was the pure contrast to the city life of Gijón. Everything was very simple and we were again amongst pilgrims, adventurers and surf bums. The owners allowed us to park our bikes inside the lounge by the fireplace. Robert had organized for us a room with bunk beds, where we could spread our bags. Actually we didn’t feel like opening them, because we were not sure if then we would have some non-paying guests continuing the trip with us in our bags.
The pilgrims’ food menu was very basic, but we were happy for what we got and Robert went to bed soon, while I kept on writing in my diary in the winter garden with all the other guests until they closed the place and turned off the light. We had rolled out our sleeping bags and had for sure guaranteed silence, because the window opened to the cemetery. Good night.
