The peaks of Picos de Europa

“Un mar de nubes,” remarked Julián, my exuberant guide. A sea of clouds. The fluffy white clouds hung around us. It was my first day in the national park Picos de Europa. Were were surrounded by peaks, we just couldn’t see them. The starting point for our walk, Sotres, was the highest village in Asturias at over 1000 metres. The car ride to this village nestled in the mountains was one of those steep hairpin roads where you are glad you’re not driving so you can gawk at the views.

From Sotres we hiked steadily up. As much as the clouds added to the mountain mystique, they were blocking our view. But clouds are shifty. They can change quickly in the mountains. In this case they shifted in our favour. A few minutes later, like a giant stage curtain, they parted. Ta da! We had a clear view of the peaks. These mighty mountains visible from the sea were the first landmark Spanish sailors returning from the Americas would see, thus the name “peaks of Europe”.

Our hike took a circular route around Sotres, which I could now clearly see below. Julián told me the tiny village, population 100, was just awarded the Pueblo Ejemplar de Asturias (2024) for community excellence to conserve the natural environment and cultural heritage. He pointed to a large white tent at the edge of the village, “El Rey estuvo aquí ayer.” The king was in Sotres yesterday to present the award. In the high mountain setting shepherding traditions are preserved and promoted. I had already seen many sure footed caramel cows grazing on the steep slopes. How did they not fall?

It’s not easy to maintain rural traditions as younger generations prefer to move to urban centres. I am fortunate to meet pastors (shepherds) during my week. Julián himself has a herd of goats. When we came across an errant cow on our path he would grab a stick and shout a jaunty “Ja Ja!” The cows took note and moved away. He also showed me the daring technique shepherds use to keep pace with their galloping flock, leaping down the slope in great bounds manipulating the palo (the wooden staff) like a pole vaulter. I did not attempt this trick!

The landscape was dotted with stone huts called cabañas. While these rustic huts are now primarily used to shelter livestock in the colder months, shepherds of past generations also used them for shelter. The huts were made from local reclaimed materials: stones for the walls, clay tiles for the roof, a few wooden beams. A small opening for a window lets in some light and is closed by blocking it with a large rock. Most families have a cabaña as they are relatively easy to construct. As we hiked along the mountain path I admired these charming huts adorning an already spectacular mountain scene.

I asked Julián how animals were gathered into the cabañas. The cows, sheep and goats were quite dispersed. It may not be obvious to an outsider, but each animal has an owner. “Conocen su pastor,” he said. They recognize their owner’s voice. A shepherd will also carry salt, a nutrient livestock cannot get in nature, to entice them to shelter.

We finished our hike back in Sotres with coffee at a cozy tavern. Normally this would have been a group hike. The language school I enrolled with for the week, Peak Me, has two small classrooms, maximum four students in each class. The school was booked all spring and summer. However, at the end of October when I attend (the last week of their season) I was the only student. Julián had family from Mexico visiting so his cousin Marie-fe joined us on our walks, which was great. She had visited Picos many times, and having completed Iron Man races had no problem with our hikes!

As the sole student, this meant my afternoon classes were one-on-one. The 2 hours were intensive but really enjoyable. My teacher, and owner of the language school, Ana (Julián’s partner) tailored my lessons. She picked up on areas I needed to work on, like certain pronunciation, numbers and those tricky words that end in ‘a’ but are masculine. Es un problema!

This was my routine for the week. A morning hike, followed by a 2 hour break for lunch, and then Ana would swing by in her sports car to take me to school for our afternoon lessons. I stayed in a one bedroom apartment at La Bardinilla and cooked my dinner most nights. Below is La Bardenilla, an old cider press on display, the view from my terrace, a lunch of zamburiñas (scallops) at the local Bar La Cortina, and my neighours: las gallinas (hens) and las ovejas (sheep).

When Ana arrived she greeted me with “Que tal la excursión?” How was the excursion? The morning outing was always “muy bien”, very good, and I attempted more details, though it was challenging to remember the names of all the places we visited.

Each day was different. There were so many hiking trails, I was very happy to have a guide. Julián was well acquainted with the trails and the people we happened upon on our route. His enthusiasm for this special area, its landscape and traditions, definitely left an impression on me.

Day two was a coastal excursion. As we got in the car Julián pointed to a large antenna on a mountain, encouraging Marie-fe and I to remember this landmark. We drove a mere 10-15 kilometres to the coast and looked back to the mountain to spot the antenna. Got it! Mountains and coast in close proximity. Each offering stunning natural landscapes. I could see why the official slogan of Asturias was Paraíso Natural (Natural Paradise).

We started our hike with a short descent to Cueva Pindal. The caves are known for pre-historic cave paintings of a mammoth (a mammoth!) and other animals like horses, bison and fish. It was closed for the season but peering through the entrance gate I could smell the dampness imagining where the paintings were located. The setting was beautiful, tucked into the side of the cliffs. Standing in front of the cave I gazed at a turquoise strip of sea between the rocky cliffs.

We continued our hike through a forest of eucalyptus trees to an old church. An annual fiesta takes place on the grassy lawn beside the 14th century church. This was one of many locations we visited during the week where a festival takes place. Each municipality is essentially a collection of small villages (pueblos) and each village hosts 1 or 2 fiestas annually, for example to celebrate the local patron saint or a local custom or harvest like chestnuts. In the municipality where my school was located there were 18 villages. This all adds up to many fiestas!

The second church we visited (photos above) was 9th or 10th century. It was in a secluded spot high above the sea. There was a stone oven near the entrance where the monks baked bread. The oven was long overgrown, the roof of the church long gone, yet there was still a peaceful aura stepping inside the hollowed out nave.

Our path also took us by farmland, under the watchful gaze of cows, horses, and a black bull standing rather close to the wire fence. There were more sea views and a great lookout point over the river that marked the border with Cantabria.

We ended with a quick stop at Playa Franca, where the rocky shores wrapped protectively around the pretty beach. In the summer the beach is packed and chiringuitos, beach bars, serve up fresh seafood. “Don’t come in August,” Julián said. The beaches all along the coast are crazy busy, especially as more and more people try to escape the unbearable heat in the south.

In contrast, at the end of October, it was a quiet scene. A lone person was wading in the water. The parking lot was empty. All week we rarely saw other hikers. Cows, sheep and horses, yes. Even the occasional pastor checking on his livestock. And we certainly saw more peaks as we headed back into the mountains for the days to come.