That was where we were “yesterday”. Up near(ish) to the snow!
A quick swim in the pool as the local aerobatic team did a parallel fly-past at 10,000 m. (But pilot number nine didn’t get the email!)
Now it’s time for some serious lunching out. It’s so much easier to work from personal recommendations. However, we are limited here to our own research. Mr Google says there is a highly-rated restaurant fairly close by. La Sauceda. A few kilometres up the – wait for it – up the N-621! It’s at the tiny hamlet of Buelles. By my calculations, and a lot of wishful thinking, this should be before the start of the roadworks! Luckily, it was!
In an unassuming row of village houses, we found the restaurant. They are well known for their cachopos, so we had to try one.
Cachopo is a dish characteristic of Asturia. It consists of two large, extremely thin, veal fillets and includes a filling. Ours had ham and cheese, but you can get them with mushrooms or “competition” ingredients – whatever they may be. It didn’t really affect us because cachopos with “competition” fillings were not on the menu of the day! Typically the dish is served with a side of chips. They are eaten fried and hot after being breaded in eggs and breadcrumbs. We had to try one! Well, they are certainly tasty food, but are they healthy food?
Moving swiftly on, we went on a beach hunt. This part of the coast is characterised by small coves. Often very hard to access. This is the Playa de la Franca.
Clearly signposted at the roundabout when leaving the motorway. And then never again! We could see it from the coastal road, but could we find the access road? Could we hell?!!! It took two days to work out how to get the last 200 m! Not two whole days, obviously, but two separate missions. A very pretty beach, but when the adjacent campsite opens for the summer it will be one to avoid!
On the coastal road, we are back on the camino trail, but in a car, not on foot! We couldn’t find the Playa La Acacia or the Playas Cebias, Buelna, Entremares, Pendueles or de Bretones for that matter! The access roads were all far too narrow – even the ones we thought we had located. “Not taking your car down that lane, Barry!” But we did wind our way down to what turned out to be the Playa Vidiago.
But, sadly, it was high tide so there was no actual beach showing. However, there is an interesting building on the rocky promontory. The sign suggests there may be a café up there. Up there! Up that steep switch-back road!
… and indeed there is a café up there – and half way back down another track! And here’s the view from there of the cove below – a rather challenging place for a swim!
But look, we are in the middle of a camp site! Camping La Paz. Fabulous views, but I wouldn’t want to be perched up here in a storm! I wouldn’t want to tow our caravan here, come to that!
What are the chances of a campervan from Brixham parking next to us?
Pretty limited – unless pre-planned! Friends from home joined us for a couple of days, but the weather turned a bit inclement for our tour of the area. First a coffee at the hotel overlooking the Playa La Franca – showing off our skill at finding the place!
Then, via the coastal road to San Vicente de Barquera, a brief pause to admire the first few hundred metres of the 5+ km beach to the east of town. Then onwards toward Comillas.
A stop for coffee and local-style churros. A sort of cross between soft biscuits and lightly toasted brioche. And the chocolate sauce was very runny. But there was no competition for the tables! And there was almost a superb view back along the beach!
The weather was really not good for beaches, so after a quick squint at Comillas beach, we moved onwards and upwards. El Capricho de Gaudi was one of Antoni Gaudi’s early shots at his developing maniacal style. The house was constructed in 1883-5 as a summer chalet, with Persian-style minaret. His trade-marked weirdness escalated in gaudiness in the “Gaudi Houses” of Barcelona and culminated in the audaciously named Basilica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Familia – the cathedral in Barcelona. The largest unfinished catholic church in the world. Designed by Antoni (who died 99 years ago), the cathedral struggles towards completion. Foundation work started in March 1882, 143 years ago. Completion is confidentially projected for next year. Maybe!
The Persian-style minaret over the front door. Every house should have one!
… and here we are trying to master the art of selfie photography! While we were in Australia, our daughter-in-law showed us how to activate the phone by showing it a palm. Now we have gone one step further by using voice control. “Say cheese” or “Smile” do the trick and give you a couple of seconds before the photo is taken. I guess everyone knows that, but I have been struggling for years trying to fire the camera manually at arm’s length!
After that mental exertion, we need a sit down. And Antoni’s little balconies provide exactly what’s needed.
The attic space was host to a collection of Gaudi designed chairs. All but one noisy Spanish family respected the polite notices requesting that visitors refrain from sitting on the exhibits!
As we wound our way down the narrowest of spiral stairways …
… and out into the garden, the sun came out – so you get another picture of the front door!
After a very short walk into down-town Comillas to take a picture of the Iglesia de San Cristóbal …
… and to check that there isn’t a sardine party going on at the Bar Guadalupe like there had been last year!!! (See the relevant episode from last Spring’s fascinating tale of how we crashed a party with Elvis in attendance!) There wasn’t one in 2025! Boring! So we hoofed it back to camp.
The next day, Saturday, 31 May, we hitched up and headed for France. As did our neighbours a little later. After a couple of hours battling along the motorway past Bilbao, we stopped for a breather at a service area. And we’re immediately joined by our Brixham friends. Well, I guess there are only so many places to stop and we were going the same way at about the same time. A happy coincidence.
But we were heading deeper into France, and sadly, against all instructions from the chief navigator, we were approaching the barrier at which we caused “immigration mayhem” last year…
And, for the record, we MUCH prefer proper-style churros!