A Perfect Picu: Naranjo de Bulnes

We had walked into Sotres and we intended to walk back, returning to Poncebos so that we could get a ride to Arenas where we had started our circular hiking holiday 10 days previously.

But first we had to climb to the Vega de Urriellu (a mountain refuge) at the foot of Naranjo de Bulnes, one of Spain's most iconic picos.

Climbers go to the top. We just intended to go to the base of this famous peak.

We intended to stay at the refuge, and then walk back down.

But then I noticed a detail in S-cape's notes about the return from Urriellu to Poncebos.  Descent:  1900 metres.  Hmmmm.... what I recalled from my first cursory reading of these notes (back in Guelph) was Descent: 900 metres.  Very do-able.   Where did that extra 1000 some from?

 Aaaagh!!

I am probably capable of descending 1900 metres, but I knew that the track would be tricky as well as long and steep.  I also knew I would need to proceed at my own pace, and I didn't want to slow  fellow hikers who would also be walking down from the refuge.  So....feeling a bit wimpy, I bailed on our night at the Vega de Urriellu, and came up with a new plan: walk to the refugio, return to Sotres, spend the night in the hotel, and walk the next day from Sotres to Poncebos on a different route.  Truth to tell,  Bruce was fine with this new scheme.  He knew that the refuge was unheated, without electricity, and that we would be sleeping in bunk rooms with up to 100 strangers.

In order to shorten the walk, Roz and Ian and Bruce and I took the S'cape SUV to Pandebano, a mountain valley that is the standard starting point for most hikers heading for Urriellu.  We could walk the 5 kms to the top and return with plenty of time to pick up our ride back to Sotres.

Urreillu beckons as we began the trek from Pandebano.

No looking down!

That's Roz chugging up the track. 

Almost there...

Then Bruce began to worry that we would not get back to Pandebano in time to meet our S'cape driver.  So after a hasty lunch among the rocks, we sent Roz and Ian ahead to the refuge and we began the descent.

The return was faster than we anticipated.  Perhaps we were more familiar with the track. Or anxious to keep our 5:00 o'clock deadline.  We were also being pursued by a huge gang of eager, curious goats who wanted to be our new BFFs. We were not quite so keen. They must have known about the lunch leftovers in our packs.

Lunch?  Did someone say lunch?

    

On the way back....

....to Pandebano.  We arrived an hour early. 

That night, we were the only S'cape couple in the hotel dining room.  Ordinarily the staff prepared one standard (and very nice) multi-course, meaty meal for the entire group.  But as their only guests, we were given soup, a main course (omelet and vegetables) and dessert (flan, rice pudding or ice cream).  This was the first time we had been served vegetarian fare (very likely prepared for convenience) but we put it down to Bruce's directive each day for our packed lunch: "por favor un picnic con bocadillos de queso. No carne."  We weren't really being picky.  Our cheese sandwiches were tasty enough without the addition of salami.

And so was the omelet, washed down with an entire bottle of very drinkable red wine.  The standard S'cape dinner for 2 to 4 people always came with a bottle of wine!

We thought of Roz and Ian in their chilly mountain-top refuge.  I had loaned Roz my long woolen sweater.  At least I could claim that it stayed the night on Urreillu even if I was sitting in the warm  hotel dining room drinking Roz's share of rioja.            

Trekking from Sotres

From Sotres, we were able to access some really marvelous hiking trails.

Back to Sotres at the end of the day.

At lower levels, we went on picturesque farming tracks and footpaths through beech woods and meadows.

Don't disturb the horses...

Following other paths, we climbed beyond the tree line into a landscape of rock and sky.

An elemental landscape

In spite of the signposts, we are about to become lost.  (photo supplied by fellow hikers, Arjan and Amke)

The three mountain masses (massifs) that comprise the Picos are of limestone, which makes for much different experience than hiking in the mostly-granite Rockies.  Limestone erodes in rainwater, so we saw interesting formations -- caves and sinkholes, but no tarns (small mountain lakes) and no waterfalls.  No wonder we sometimes felt as if we were hiking in the mountains of the moon.

What did make the walks above Sotres interesting was evidence of mining.  These lead and zinc mines closed down in the early 20th century, but horizontal shafts, tailings ponds, abandoned equipment, and even a few empty houses still testify to an industry long gone.

Through the arch to the Rufugio de Andara...locked and unoccupied.

 

A mining ghost town

Sotres Sojourn

By the time we hiked over to Sotres the weather was gradually improving. Good. We were to have 3 days of trekking from this new location.  Although the fog lingered, at least it was not raining as we made our way on farm tracks and cattle trails from Espinama through the Aliva valley.

Ermita de Aliva.  This lonely trail-side chapel is only open on holidays.

 

No fertilizer/fertilizer?  We decided that these are grazed and ungrazed fields.

Sotres is the highest village in the Picos.  We trudged uphill on a tarmac road and found the tiny town perched on a cliff, overlooking a valley.   The main street seemed to consist of nothing but a few bars and hotels clustered around a recycling centre and a public laundry/wash-house. 

 Sotres is perched cliffside (stock photo).

Our hotel, Hotel Sotres, was on the edge of town but easy to find.  No GPS required. 

Looking down the main street from our hotel.  The single storey wash-house is surrounded by SUVs..

We had all our meals at the hotel, and they even made us lunch.  This was just as well since there appeared to be no grocery store. (One souvenir shop sold cheese, t-shirts, and scratchy hand-knitted woolen socks.)  We asked about the lack of amenities and were told that supplies were available at an outdoor market once a week.  Bread was delivered daily.   We confirmed this at breakfast as we watched the arrival of the bread truck from the dining room window. It came and left in about 5 minutes.  Had we wanted a loaf of pan we would have had to be very quick.

A farm on the outskirts of Sotres appears to have arranged for bread delivery

We walk back into Sotres after a day on the trail.

Although the main street offered very little, the village itself was pretty with small houses and apartments on the nearby streets.  I walked around the town and formulated a few generalities:

1. New or old, all village houses look alike with stone/stucco walls and tile roofs. (There must be municipal guidelines that enforce this rustic consistency.)

Stone walls, tile roof and flower boxes: check, check and check.  

This house had a solar panel, and a pretty garden. Extra points.

2.  Most residents are male and middle-aged, and at 6:00 pm they are all in the bars having beer and tapas.  Where were the women?  My friend Roz thought she knew.  They were at home preparing the unnecessarily large, multi-course dinners that would be consumed at 9 o'clock!

3.  Most residents own SUVs.  For such a small town there seemed to be an overabundance of vehicles, but I suppose people need to have a way to get to work or school, or just visit the dentist or get their hair cut.  Visiting hikers are surely the only ones hoofing it in and out of Sotres.   

When our S-scape representative Marie  dropped in to the hotel I asked her what Sotres was like in the winter.  Was there enough snow to support ski tourism?   There are very heavy snowfalls, she told me, but Sotres is close to the coast and the snow melts so quickly that it can be dangerous. There is very little skiing.

In fact, she and her family will be moving to Arenas for the winter so that her children are not at risk from avalanches as they are driven home from school.  She added that many people leave for the winter. If they are lucky they find seasonal work in Bilbao or other towns on the coast. Only about 60 residents remain behind.

I hope that weekly market is year-round;  I hope the bread truck has winter tires!    

Potes: a medieval town in the Picos

After four days of extreme hiking, we were more than ready for a day off.

We could have simply made excuses and wimped out.  But there was no need.  We were rescued by the weather.   A welcome rainy day provided a legitimate excuse to seek a non-hiking option, and luckily there was a very good one nearby.  Potes, a well-preserved medieval village, was just up the road from our new home base in Espinama.

Let it rain....we will explore Potes

The River Deva

Potes is old in a way that is almost incomprehensible to Canadians. (Once upon a time, I recall being very impressed that an Edmonton friend lived in a really old house --built 40 years ago!)   But Potes was already experiencing a building boom in the 9th century when the Romans took advantage of its strategic location at a confluence of four valleys and two rivers.

A former mill on the Deva

A very old wall spans a very old street

Most of the buildings that now give the town its character, however, date from the 15th century and later.  Their exteriors appear largely unchanged, so what remains is a picturesque, historic little town. And it is little. Only 1,500 people live here.   

Nevertheless, the information bureau in the main square is huge -- an indication of just how many tourists love authentic rustic charm.

Potes on a rainy day

Medieval "row houses"-- still occupied.

Potes is no living history museum, however.  Wander through the narrow, twisty streets and you will be walking where the locals live, shop and do business.  These residents must surely feel annoyed that nosey tourists unabashedly gawk and take photographs of their private spaces.  Unless they own a cafe or souvenir shop, that is.

Tiny shops on tiny streets

Because after we have peered around every corner, admired every flowery window box, and walked down every cobblestone lane, that is where we will be hanging out, avoiding the rain while we wait for the bus.

We watched a standoff between a Mercedes and a BMW at this narrow corner.  The Mercedes won.

Walking the Cares Gorge

Three days into our Picos adventure, we tramped along the Garganta del Cares, aka the Cares Gorge. 

This spectacular walk follows a channel carrying water from the Cares River to a hydroelectric station. The path was originally built in the 1920s as a service route for the canal, but now the Ruta del Cares has a new life as one of Spain's most popular outdoor destinations.  Thousands of tourists visit the Picos every year just to notch this 12 km hike on their "great-treks" belts. 

And no wonder. The scenery is breathtaking.   The precipitous limestone chasm is unbelievably deep (over a km in places), and it rises majestically above and below the track.

How far down?

The path is equally impressive. Cut into the chasm, it snakes along narrow ledges and through dark tunnels.  Occasionally a hand-rail provides a bit of security, but otherwise, hikers hold their breath, avoid looking down and push on.

There are gangs of goats along the Cares Gorge, too.

A National Parks sign at the start of the track warns acrophobics that this edge-y walk will present challenges.  Has anyone ever fallen?  I thought of recent news items about hapless hikers.  The one who fell to her death at Mount Nemo on Ontario's Bruce Trail.  And the woman whose body was consumed in mere minutes by griffon vultures after she plummeted off a cliff in the Pyranees.

I tried not to think of these incidents.   But I couldn't help scanning the cloudless sky above the garganta for large birds of prey......

The sign means exactly what you think. Maybe this is not such a good idea.

No looking down!

Tunnels on the trail

Ian is now the subject of a stranger's Picos pic.

Bridges cross to the other side.

Except for the necessity of keeping to the path (and not falling off the edge), the most challenging aspect of this walk was the temperature -- 32 degrees with no shade at all.  The sun beat down and reflected off the rocky path and the surrounding cliffs.

Our lunch stop (at the end of the gorge) in Cain was a welcome respite, but then we slogged on.  We still needed to reach our next hotel in Posada de Valdeon, 8 kms up the road.

Shade!  We have a lunch of bread and cheese in Cain.

The final 8 km occasionally took us onto a road.  It was less exciting, but the scenery was still impressive.

Our 20 km "bucket list" hike was over.  Finally we could melt into chairs at the Hotel Picos de Europa and practice a lispy request for "uno cervaza (ther-bay-za) por favor".