A weekend in the Picos de Europa

Occasionally friends organise a weekend away from home to explore local towns and mountains and sometimes when our schedule permits we sign up for these outings. Usually we have a lot of fun, a lot of eating and drinking and lovely places to explore. So when the suggestion came up to go and spend a weekend in a remote village at the base of a mountain known as the 'Naranjo de Bulnes' we joined the party.

One major attraction was that the village of Bulnes was inaccessible by road, and could only be reached by walking the last 5 kilometres up a steep climb that could take two hours to complete, or for the faint-hearted a tunnel had been cut to install a cablecar that zipped you up the mountain in 10 minutes.

Before the main event we stopped off in the small town of Cabrales, which is famous for its blue cheese, which is very popular in this region though I am not too fond of the rather smelly and bluish bacteria filled delicacy. We all made our way through the caves which are typically where the cheese is made and in due course arrived at the place where the Bulnes climb starts.

As we parked our cars at the starting point and made our way up the walk we were eager to find out if our information was right. When a young couple coming down the other way told us that they had taken three hours we figured that someone could be leading us astray. Marisol and I decided to skip the climb and take the cablecar, and we waved to the fast disappearing friends up the trail and made our way back.

The cablecar was fast and efficient and we were soon up the mountain and emerged into a stunning scene which only high mountains can produce. We walked into the small collection of houses not knowing even the name of the place where we were supposed to be staying, with Marisol saying that she did not think that the place was in the town itself and that it could be anywhere. Of course being up a mountain there was no phone signal on our mobiles so calling Montse who had arranged the stay was out of the question.  There were three or four bars or restaurants though many of them were shut.

The obvious thing to do was to wait for the climbers to appear but we were not sure how long they might be and a long wait might be in store. On a hunch I approached a 'mature' man sitting outside a restaurant door and asked if he would mind if I asked him a question which I was not sure how to ask. He waited for me to elaborate. I said that we had separated from our group and that we were not sure where we were staying and before I could finish formulating my question which could have been 'Do you know of any inns which may or may not be in this place?' or 'are there any rural accomodation places around here?' he said:

'Under what name is the reservation'?

Slightly taken aback I gave Montse's name and that we were 8 in the group. He thought for a second or two and smiled and came up with 'Has asertado' (You guessed right). 'It is here', he said. I could not believe it and Marisol even less - she was still sitting under a tree about 50 metres away!

We were soon in a room, backpacks off and refreshed we walked around and headed down the path which our friends would presumably come up. We timed it just right as the leading group soon came into view and we were reunited with rest of the group soon after. They had taken exactly an hour and half just as the web page stated, and not the dubious three hours by the inept couple who had taken to do the easier downhill.

There followed a period of resting drinking and eating which is normal for these trips. The infectious laugh of Kato and the raucous stories filled the night till late. We tried desperately to look for the rumoured shooting stars without success, though the sky was filled with stars but the high  mountains and the clouds gave us limited view of the heavens.

By 10 the only bar open in town (where we were) closed and the darkness was so intense that we had to retire for the night.

The next day we undertook a couple of excursions up the mountains in different directions, nothing too serious, but the views were stunning. Naturally everyone snapped everything in sight and we had a glimpse of the elusive 'Naranjo' which was hidden behind a smaller but immense mountain. Since most of the group was determined to walk back down the mountain, in part to evade the rather expensive charge on the cablecar (Marisol and I had return tickets ;-)), we made our way back around midday to be down in time for lunch.

The group decided to have lunch in Panes, a few kilometers down the road and the only major town nearby but when we arrived the town was heaving. The local festivities in Spanish towns are famous and people show up from long distances to take part and to look up friends. The festivities were in full swing, it was after 3pm and all the restaurants had 'completo' signs at the entrances.

It was time to think of a plan B for lunch when someone in the crowd called out 'Arvinder..what are you doing here?' It was one of those unexpected surprises when you least expect them. It was a photographer we had met some years ago at an art event in the neighbourhood, to which Marisol had been invited. After brief pleasantaries we asked Nel (that was his name) where we might be able to eat. He confirmed our fears that in Panes all the restaurants had been reserved well in advance, but suggested we try a small town nearby called Buelles, where Ramon ran a restaurant that might help us. I remembered this suggested place 'La Sauceda' from our event in the past and wondered if the owner would also remember me.

We drove the short distance, found the place (noting a 'completo' sign at the door) and I walked in and asked to see Ramon. Someone called him and he emerged from the recesses of the place and a smile lit his face as he greeted me as a long lost friend 'Hombre, ya has regresado'. Again a brief exchange of pleasantries and I asked him if we had any chance of being accomodated for lunch. After a brief think he said 'I am sure we can figure something out, although the cook will be mad with us'. Then he added to the group 'you all are in luck that you are with this man, because if not I would have had to disappoint you'. Everyone was even more impressed when he recalled that 'this guy can really eat a lot!'

Needless to say Ramon set us up a table for lunch and we had a most enjoyable meal.

All is well that ends well! And a thousand thanks to Ramon.

By six we had emerged from the restaurant, and drove on to the beautiful and impressively named San Vicente de la Barquera for a walkabout before returning to Laredo.

Un fin de semana en Picos de Europa

Ocasionalmente amigos organizan un fin de semana fuera de casa para explorar ciudades y montañas de la zona y, a veces, cuando nuestro calendario lo permite nos apuntamos en estas salidas. Por lo general, nos divertimos, bebemos y comemos mucho y hay lugares encantadores para explorar. Así que cuando surgió la posibilidad para ir a pasar un fin de semana en una remota aldea en la base de una montaña conocida como el 'Naranjo de Bulnes' nos unimos a la excursión.

Uno de los atractivos principales era que el pueblo de Bulnes era inaccesible por carretera, y sólo se podía llegar a pie los últimos 5 kilómetros por una subida empinada que podría tomar dos horas para completar, o para los débiles de corazón un túnel había sido cortado para instalar un funicular que subía al pueblo en 10 minutos.

Antes del evento principal paramos en la pequeña localidad de Cabrales, que es famosa por su queso azul, que es muy popular en esta región aunque no soy demasiado aficionado a la delicadeza esta lleno de bacterias malolientes y azuladas. Fuimos a ver las cuevas que son típicamente donde se hace el queso y después nos acercamos al lugar donde empieza la subida hacia Bulnes.

Aparcamos nuestros coches en el punto de partida y nos dirigimos por el camino que nos llevaría a Bulnes pero estábamos ansiosos por saber si nuestra información era correcta. Una pareja joven que venia en dirección contraria nos dijo que habían tomado tres horas para bajar. Marisol y yo decidimos saltar la subida y tomar el funicular, y nos señalamos a los amigos que desaparecían rápidamente por el sendero y volvimos a la estación del funicular.

Fue rápido y eficiente, y al salir nos encontramos en una escena impresionante que sólo altas montañas pueden producir. Entramos en el pequeño conjunto de casas sin saber siquiera el nombre del lugar donde nos ibamos a alojar, con Marisol diciendo que no creía que el lugar estaba en la propia ciudad y que podría estar en cualquier sitio. Por supuesto que no había ninguna señal de teléfono en nuestros móviles con la que llamar a Montse, que había organizado la estancia. Había tres o cuatro bares o restaurantes, aunque muchos de ellos estaban cerradas.

La cosa obvia de hacer era esperar a los escaladores que llegaran, pero no estábamos seguros de cuánto tiempo podrían tomar y la espera podia ser larga. Por una corazonada me acerqué a un hombre "maduro" sentado fuera de una puerta del restaurante y le pregunté si le importaría si yo le hacia una pregunta que no estaba seguro de cómo hacer. Le dije que nos habíamos separado de nuestro grupo y que no estábamos seguros de dónde estábamos alojados y antes de que pudiera terminar de formular mi pregunta que podría haber sido '¿Conoces algunas pensiones que pueden o no pueden estar en este lugar? o "¿existen lugares de 

alojamientos rurales por aquí?' él dijo:

"¿Bajo qué nombre es la reserva '?

Un poco sorprendido le di el nombre de Montse y que éramos 8 en el grupo. Pensó por un segundo o dos y sonrió y dijo "Has acertado. Es aquí". Yo no lo podía creer y Marisol aún menos - que todavía estaba sentada debajo de un árbol de unos 50 metros de distancia!

Pronto estuvimos en una habitación, mochilas descargadas y renovados nos dimos una vuelta y nos dirigimos hacia el camino por donde nuestros amigos presumiblemente iban a llegar. Habiamos ido solo unos doscientos metros cuando los mas rapidos del grupo aparecieron. Habían tomado exactamente una hora y 

media como decia la página web, y no las tres horas que la pareja a la que preguntamos.

Despues de descansar y beber y comer, la risa contagiosa de Kato y las historias estridentes llenó la noche hasta tarde. Tratamos desesperadamente de buscar las estrellas fugaces sin éxito, aunque el cielo estaba lleno de estrellas, pero las altas montañas y las nubes nos dio visión limitada de los cielos.

A las 10 el único bar abierto en la ciudad (donde estábamos) cerraba y la oscuridad era tan intensa que tuvimos que decidimos retirarnos.

El día siguiente realizamos un par de excursiones por las montañas en diferentes direcciones, nada demasiado grave, pero las vistas eran impresionantes. Naturalmente todo el mundo saco fotos de todo a la vista y tuvimos una visión de el elusivo "Naranjo", que estaba escondido detrás de una montaña más pequeña pero inmensa. Dado que la mayoría del grupo estaba decidido a bajar la montaña andando, en parte para evadir el coste bastante caro del funicular (Marisol y yo teníamos billetes de vuelta ;-)), hicimos nuestro camino de regreso hacia el mediodía para estar abajo a la hora de la comida.

Decidimos almorzar en Panes, a pocos kilómetros por la carretera y la única ciudad importante cerca, pero cuando llegamos la ciudad estaba abarrotada. Las fiestas locales en las ciudades españolas son famosas y la gente se presenta desde largas distancias para participar y para reunirse con amigos. Las fiestas estaban en su apogeo, eran las 3pm pasadas y todos los restaurantes tenían signos 'COMPLETO' en las entradas.

Era el momento de pensar en un plan B para el almuerzo cuando alguien en la multitud gritó: 'Arvinder..que estás haciendo aquí?' Era una de esas sorpresas inesperadas cuando menos te lo esperas. Era un fotógrafo que habíamos conocido hace unos años en un evento de arte en el barrio, a la que había sido invitado Marisol. Después de breves saludos preguntamos a Nel (ese era su nombre) donde podríamos comer. Confirmó nuestros temores de que en Panes todos los restaurantes habían sido reservados con mucha antelación, pero sugirió que podiamos probar un pequeño pueblo cercano, donde un tal Ramón tenia un restaurante que igual nos podia ayudar. Me acordé de este puebluco Buelles de nuestro evento en el pasado y tuve la esperanza que el propietario también me recordaría.

Conducimos la corta distancia, encontramos el lugar 'El Sauceda'  (otra señal de 'completo' en la puerta) entramos y preguntamos por Ramón. Alguien lo llamó y él salió de los recovecos del lugar y una sonrisa iluminó su rostro cuando me saludó como un amigo perdido hace mucho tiempo 'Hombre, ya has regresado ". Una vez más un breve intercambio de saludos y le pregunte si teníamos alguna posibilidad de ser acomodado para el almuerzo. Después de una breve reflexión, dijo 'Estoy seguro de que podemos hacer algo, aunque la cocinera se va a enfadar con nosotros". Luego se añadió al grupo 'todos ustedes tienen la suerte que estan con este hombre, porque si no hubiera tenido que decepcionarles'. Todo el mundo estaba 

aún más impresionado cuando recordó que "este tipo realmente puede comer mucho! "

Ramón nos preparó una mesa para el almuerzo y tuvimos una comida muy agradable.
¡Todo está bien que termina bien! Y mil gracias a Ramón.

A las seis salimos del restaurante, y fuimos a la hermosa e impresionante ciudad llamado San Vicente de la Barquera para un Walkabout antes de regresar a Laredo.

Venice 2015

To see a complete set of pictures click here - Para ver el set completo de fotos pincha aqui

Venice - cloudy and cool

Venice in August? This is something that most people would resist. A week before we were due to fly to Venice, one of my fauvorite places on this planet,  a friend from Madrid came by and informed us that he had had to cut short his visit to the same location because of the heat. So when we approached the place we had misgivings and only summer clothes in readyness to tackle the temperatures.

We need not have worried..a cold front saw to it that it rained and thundered every night and we had cool and sunny days to enjoy Venice and the main attraction - The Venice Biennale, the world's leading art event which occurs every two years. Lucky we had a sweater each which was put to good use.

We also put our legs to good use, walking as much as 20 kms on a day! In total we logged about 60 Kms during the week. The reason being that the Vaporettos which ply the bigger canals have raised their fares to such an extent that most tourists steer clear of them. The locals presumably have different fares because otherwise no one would use the boats at 8 Euro a ride! Either that or everyone was without a valid ticket!

Full moon and an 'Escher' staircase

We had accompanying us a seasoned Venice guide who had lived in Venice in the past. So we did not have to worry about maps or guide books as Massimiliano knew everything about the place. How to get to anywhere, where to eat and the best and the most reasonable priced restaurants, the hotel..everything. We just took off every morning and followed Max.

However even with Max's guidance and knowledge we had to be on the lookout for ripoffs and pitfalls. In one cafe bar our coffee was quite reasonably priced, but when we tried to sit down at a nearby table we were told that the price would double! 'Tua Mama' said Max to the waiter with appropriate hand gestures and we declined the seating option.

The Biennale exhibitions had a bit of everything. From the highlight of the Japanese pavillion installation by Chiharu Shiota to the absurd display at the Peruvian space there was every conceivable kind of art works in all kinds of mediums. The Shiota exhibit consisted of a red string maze which had trapped in them full scale boats and hundreds of keys hung from the strings. The Peruvian exhibit were some grey square panels stacked in rows with some dubious logic relating them to past architectures.

The Biennale

The Giardini country pavillions were stacked with art from all corners of the world, except the Swedish pavilion which was locked and unused due to some mysterious reason. When we passed by there were about 20 'Swedish looking' people sitting outside the locked entrance and deep in discussion. The Arsenale on the other hand had more independent art and pavillions of countries who dont make it into the Giardini. There were also numerous related events at many palaces around Venice, and a detailed study of the location and times was required to properly plan the visits. Even so we managed to get to several locations when they were closed, or found that some were very difficult to find. This could only be blamed on the organisation and the mistakes in the information provided.

A detailed analysis of the art event would be outside the scope of this blog but I can say that it needed all of a week to do it justice and to fully enjoy the different venues.

Soon it was time to leave and it was just in time because towards the end the heat wave hit Venice with a vengeance. On the way to the airport the temperatures soared beyond 40C and we had purchased a return ticket to the airport on the slowest vaporetto known to mankind. It took two hours but after sweating litres and going by every island in the neighbourhood we finally made it to the airconditioned airport. Soon we were back in a more comfortable climate of Northern Spain.
And a good time was had by all!

To see a complete set of pictures click here - Para ver el set completo de fotos pincha aqui