Luarca - Navia

17 kms




Out of Luarca, once again a massive trek up the hills of the town. The views over the town as we reached the top was beautiful. Between the hills, are these high old arched bridges for the train.

We paced our walking quite well, as it was a lovely day of walking mainly on village paths, farm tracks as we went through villiage after villiage, across farmlands. Each village is only about 1 - 3 kms apart.

On the way we caught up with our German friends. As Harold had new boots, they were not walking as fast. But to enjoy their company, we slowed down our pace to walk together to Navia. Such a lovely family.

Rod and I took a water break, where across the field, I had the privilege of watching a mother mare, "playing" with her foal. I was intrigued. We caught up with our German friends at a bar.

Out of a village, Piñera, Rod was 'hero of the day'. Our guidebook warned of using the yellow arrows and advised the road. We got to section of brush, which was totally overgrown. No way. After yesterday's wounds, which I am still dressing, I was fearfully starting to unbuckle my backpack to zip on my leggings. Rod has good sense of direction, so guided us along the railway track we had just had to cross. Harold was telling me how one could be locked up for life if caught walking on railway tracks in Germany. Rod found a path, that we had to do minor bush walking (compared to yesterday). These kind gents wedged a path for us girls and we emerged onto the road. Rod was so praised! He so earned it. I was so proud of him.

We separated in Navia as Rod and I weren't yet sure if we were going to stop for the day. But we had to get food, as the Spanish main meal is between 2 and 4. Sometimes we can get a meal at 1pm. But nothing after 4. The next meal time is normally from 9pm. So after a full day of walking, our last meal at breakfast, with only snacks (and beer of course) inbetween, one can understand the desperation to get that afternoon meal. We arrived in Navia at 4.30. Oh boy. We finally found a restaurant that couldn't resist the look of desperation on these pilgrim faces when they point at their watches and say 'mas tardes, cautro hora!' (too late, 4 pm). Even though they complained, they fed us a great meal of the day.

An old lady sat across from us. I could tell she was lonely. She tried to start talking, but I apologised. After a while, I just started normal stuff, we're pilgrims, from Australia, etc - in my pigeon Spanish.

We then fumbled away *talking* about each other's lives. She had no husband, we think her daughter is in Madrid, married to an American. Too many American's in Madrid, or something. She had grandchildren. She had just been to hospital. No, we didn't have children yet, discussed our prospects of a family. She bid us goodbye, saying she liked me, touched my face and gave me kisses goodbye. She liked Rod too. Who wouldn't!