Monday, October 15, 2007
15 October 2007
Asturias: 3 Days This Time!
I'm finally back to school and real life and hopefully will begin blogging again with some regularity! Apologies for the very long absence. Particularly to Anna Xu, a wonderful and devoted reader.
A few weeks before our scheduled weeklong break from classes, my friends here began making travel plans. A few were headed to Prague, a few to Rome. Both places sounded great to me, but a part of me wanted to see more of Spain--a country that, besides Granada, I´d seen none of.
The day that I was trying to decide where to go, fate intervened in the form of three e-mails. One was from my friend Anna, who had found old outdoors magazines in a store and wanted to know if I was interested in spending the break hiking. One was from my friend Allison, who wanted to know if that week would be a good time for her to come and visit. And the last one was from my new Harvard English Department advisor, introducing himself and suggesting that if I have any free time I make it up north to Cangas de Onis--a beautiful mountain town, he said, that would be especially nice in autumn.
Plans came together after that, and in what felt like no time at all I found myself, Anna and Allison in a bus from Madrid to Oviedo. To clarify geographically, Asturias is a region in the north of Spain, Oviedo is the region´s biggest city, and "the Picos de Europa" is a mountain range through several northern regions including Asturias. We took my advisor´s suggestion and decided to hike out of Cangas de Onis, an access town that according to our guidebooks is famous for fabada (bean stew), siedra (hard apple cider), and its many varieties of queso de cabrales (goat cheese). The lush and quiet mountain town, whose trees were all just beginning to turn orange, yellow, and brown, exceeded expectations; I can´t imagine a more peaceful place to spend a few days.
Thanks to Allison, who had brought from the States a "walking in Spain" book, we found great-looking route that started and ended at Lago de Ercina, which is a taxi drive away from Cangas. We packed up our backpacks with fleeces, cheese, and nuts, left our suitcases with the nice old ladies at the tourist office, and hit the trail!
I took detailed notes of the trip, which I don´t have with me here at the school computer lab (where I´m writing from between classes), so I´ll finish this entry later today or tomorrow morning from the residencia. Hasta luego!
...
From Bulnes, we began another steep (and muddy, and hot) ascent through a path flanked by high ferns and shaded by low-hanging tree branches. We stopped at the pool below a small and freezing-cold waterfall to shed layers and swim. What struck me most about this leg of our hike was how radically different it was in landscape and flora from our hike the day before. The path really looked tropical!
As we hiked higher, however, the path again dried out and the "forest" thinned. Soon, we were hiking through fields of knee-high orange ferns, and passing through pastures where cows and goats grazed. When we finally reached the top of this hill, we dropped our backpacks and stared wide-eyed at the view; a sweeping valley first, and then a distant hill on top of which perched a small hamlet, complete with church spire. For any of you who grew up watching Beauty and the Beast, this (as far as I could tell) was the hill that Belle runs to behind her house.
Allured by the town, we headed down the hill, through fields of (you guessed it) cows and goats. When we reached the road, we stopped and asked a shepard for directions. He laid our map down on the hood of his car, turned his binoculars upside-down to read the small font, and pursed his lips. "Alli," he said, and pointed--back in the direction that we had come from.
Yep, this was Lost Incident #1. The good that came out of our half-hour, out-of-the-way trek, however, was that the shepard also showed us a freshwater spring from which we could refill our water bottles. An hour of huffing and puffing back up the hill, we'd arrived where we'd started, and were ready to continue along the trail.
The rest of the day was--a climb. We passed a few refugios, a donkey carrying bundles, two German mountain bikers, and some gazelles, and (finally) out of the fog loomed Vega de Urriellu. We pushed open the stone building's heavy door, checked in with the innkeepers, and plodded up the metal stairs to the second floor and its six very cozy rooms. The rooms' walls were lined with bunk beds and in the deep windowsills were stacked thick felt blankets. Cold, we curled up with two blankets each and awaited dinner. And that's where I'll continue, when I continue!
I'm finally back to school and real life and hopefully will begin blogging again with some regularity! Apologies for the very long absence. Particularly to Anna Xu, a wonderful and devoted reader.
A few weeks before our scheduled weeklong break from classes, my friends here began making travel plans. A few were headed to Prague, a few to Rome. Both places sounded great to me, but a part of me wanted to see more of Spain--a country that, besides Granada, I´d seen none of.
The day that I was trying to decide where to go, fate intervened in the form of three e-mails. One was from my friend Anna, who had found old outdoors magazines in a store and wanted to know if I was interested in spending the break hiking. One was from my friend Allison, who wanted to know if that week would be a good time for her to come and visit. And the last one was from my new Harvard English Department advisor, introducing himself and suggesting that if I have any free time I make it up north to Cangas de Onis--a beautiful mountain town, he said, that would be especially nice in autumn.
Plans came together after that, and in what felt like no time at all I found myself, Anna and Allison in a bus from Madrid to Oviedo. To clarify geographically, Asturias is a region in the north of Spain, Oviedo is the region´s biggest city, and "the Picos de Europa" is a mountain range through several northern regions including Asturias. We took my advisor´s suggestion and decided to hike out of Cangas de Onis, an access town that according to our guidebooks is famous for fabada (bean stew), siedra (hard apple cider), and its many varieties of queso de cabrales (goat cheese). The lush and quiet mountain town, whose trees were all just beginning to turn orange, yellow, and brown, exceeded expectations; I can´t imagine a more peaceful place to spend a few days.
Thanks to Allison, who had brought from the States a "walking in Spain" book, we found great-looking route that started and ended at Lago de Ercina, which is a taxi drive away from Cangas. We packed up our backpacks with fleeces, cheese, and nuts, left our suitcases with the nice old ladies at the tourist office, and hit the trail!
I took detailed notes of the trip, which I don´t have with me here at the school computer lab (where I´m writing from between classes), so I´ll finish this entry later today or tomorrow morning from the residencia. Hasta luego!
...
Our first day, we hiked 17km—from Lago de Ercina to Caín. Our day began in town, where we did last-minute grocery shopping and found a place to leave our suitcases (that is, with the very friendly old ladies at the Tourist Office). We caught a taxi to Lago de Ercina, and passed Covadonga, with its stunning salmon-colored stone church. We watched out of the taxi’s windows as we climbed up the mountainside and the lush, vermonty green landscape gave way to craggy mountains.
Lago de Ercina is a plush, boggy lake plopped pretty much dead center in the middle of these craggy mountains. From the trail head there, we ascended a very muddy slope to the tinny serenade of cowbells. Ankle-deep in mud that (not surprisingly) smelled strongly of cow, I asked myself the question that always comes up at least once during a backpacking trip: why the heck did I decide to do this again?
The good news is that when we reached the hilltop and Refugio Vega de Aria, the trail (and our shoes) dried out. A shepard stopped to point us in the right direction, and after a brief lunch of raisins and cheese, we carried on. Trails in the Picos have a different marking system than those in California's Sierra Nevadas—instead of looking for “ducks” or “
After a steep, shale-y descent down the other side of the hill that we’d just walked up, we reached the route from Poncebos to Cain—one of the flat-out coolest trails I’ve ever hiked. The sendero is of decompressed granite, and is easy to walk on. For a while, it runs along the Garganta del Cares, an impressive gorge. To clarify. When I say “runs along,” I mean in 1946 Spanish workers dynamited a path into one side of the vertical cliff that extends up from the river seemingly indefinitely. The result is a semi-circular tunnel (that at times actually becomes a series of tubular caves) carved into an otherwise steep rock face. This would not be a place to misstep; at times, the cliff curves away at a negative slope from the trail and the river is at least a hundred feet below. When the trail turns into tunnel-caves, at points windows are carved into the rock wall and we could see waterfalls cascading down over us. I’ll try to include a picture, because words really can’t describe how fun this path was!
We reached Cain, a small mountain town, around 7pm, and spent the night there. We woke up at 9am (early, Spanish time) and began our second day hike to Vega de Uriellu!
...
The day began with an hour-long backtrack along the Poncebos trail. This trail is, according to our guidebook, the single best day hike in Spain and if any of you are ever in the Picos and seeking a gorgeous (no pun intended) and fairly easy walk, I'd suggest here. There are stone houses built up against the cliff walls, and the aqueduct mentioned above runs the whole length of the trail.
We reached Poncebos and the underground funicular at about 10:30 in the morning. By taking the 7-minute funicular, we avoided a strenuous 4.5 km ascent--a good call, in my opinion. We walked, blinking, out of the dark funicular into bright sunlight and a green, almost Hawaiian-looking landscape. We'd reached Bulnes La Villa, a small town with one cafe inaccessible by road.From Bulnes, we began another steep (and muddy, and hot) ascent through a path flanked by high ferns and shaded by low-hanging tree branches. We stopped at the pool below a small and freezing-cold waterfall to shed layers and swim. What struck me most about this leg of our hike was how radically different it was in landscape and flora from our hike the day before. The path really looked tropical!
As we hiked higher, however, the path again dried out and the "forest" thinned. Soon, we were hiking through fields of knee-high orange ferns, and passing through pastures where cows and goats grazed. When we finally reached the top of this hill, we dropped our backpacks and stared wide-eyed at the view; a sweeping valley first, and then a distant hill on top of which perched a small hamlet, complete with church spire. For any of you who grew up watching Beauty and the Beast, this (as far as I could tell) was the hill that Belle runs to behind her house.
Allured by the town, we headed down the hill, through fields of (you guessed it) cows and goats. When we reached the road, we stopped and asked a shepard for directions. He laid our map down on the hood of his car, turned his binoculars upside-down to read the small font, and pursed his lips. "Alli," he said, and pointed--back in the direction that we had come from.
Yep, this was Lost Incident #1. The good that came out of our half-hour, out-of-the-way trek, however, was that the shepard also showed us a freshwater spring from which we could refill our water bottles. An hour of huffing and puffing back up the hill, we'd arrived where we'd started, and were ready to continue along the trail.
The rest of the day was--a climb. We passed a few refugios, a donkey carrying bundles, two German mountain bikers, and some gazelles, and (finally) out of the fog loomed Vega de Urriellu. We pushed open the stone building's heavy door, checked in with the innkeepers, and plodded up the metal stairs to the second floor and its six very cozy rooms. The rooms' walls were lined with bunk beds and in the deep windowsills were stacked thick felt blankets. Cold, we curled up with two blankets each and awaited dinner. And that's where I'll continue, when I continue!
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
9 October 2007
Hey all!
The weeklong vacation that separated my September language class from my October literature classes just ended--and so here I am, back in Granada. Here´s where I´ve been during the last week:
Toledo
Segovia
Madrid (2 nights)
Oviedo-Cangas de Onis-the Picos de Europa (5 nights)
On the bus back to Granada (1 long night)
My first three days of travel were organized by Arcadia, the program that I´m here in Spain with. The next week of travel I planned with two friends.
Seeing as I´m so far behind on blogging, I´m not going to try to tackle this chronologically but rather by location. This seems like it will make sorting out my memories a bit easier. With that said, I´m going to post this and start writing about Asturias!
The weeklong vacation that separated my September language class from my October literature classes just ended--and so here I am, back in Granada. Here´s where I´ve been during the last week:
Toledo
Segovia
Madrid (2 nights)
Oviedo-Cangas de Onis-the Picos de Europa (5 nights)
On the bus back to Granada (1 long night)
My first three days of travel were organized by Arcadia, the program that I´m here in Spain with. The next week of travel I planned with two friends.
Seeing as I´m so far behind on blogging, I´m not going to try to tackle this chronologically but rather by location. This seems like it will make sorting out my memories a bit easier. With that said, I´m going to post this and start writing about Asturias!
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