Apologies for missing 2 days out of our ostensibly daily blog! The reasons for this will become clear imminently, and we’ll be catching up throughout today.
Day 1 (Wednesday, 1 June)
Our day began at 5:30am. We forced ourselves out of bed, packed up quickly and left for Oviedo’s cathedral – the official starting point for the Camino Primitivo. The sailing wasn’t initially plain: the slight too-bigness of Alfie’s pack became apparent, and I bemoaned the amount of warm clothes I’d brought (it was already t-shirt weather, despite the dampness and low-lying clouds). Overall, though, we were excited. After a quick bleary selfie at the cathedral, we were off through the center of sleepy and still-dark Oviedo.
Oviedo doesn’t have suburbs. Rather, the dense mid-rise apartment blocks just get a bit newer as you walk away from the center, and then they stop right where the steep, grassy hills begin. The path that led out of the city was, at first, a very incongruous road – new-looking and lined with sidewalks and street lamps, not the kind of thing you expect in the countryside. We walked through a hamlet (by now, day had dawned behind the thick cloud-clover), and the road became more of a country lane. “This could be in Devon”, Alfie noted of the deep green hedgerows and overhanging trees.
By now, we were following blue and yellow shell signs placed at frequent intervals. It was starting to feel real. The road became a paved path, the perfect width for two pilgrims. The path meandered up and down the hillside, Oviedo below us, separated by green fields dotted with occasional houses and cows. The temperature was cool but not cold – perfect. Our backpacks were weighed down with snacks (olives, cheeses, some dry ‘pan y coperto’ from last night’s dinner, a small package of walnut-studded membrillo, and some smoked jamón de León), and we were ready for a good day of walking.
We went on for close to three hours in this way, stopping for occasional glugs of water and sock adjustments. Well, I say water – we accidentally bought massive bottles of lemonade, as there was no indication of their not being sparkling water on the bottle! Quite a few groups of pilgrims passed us. It’s hard to know whether it was a more than usual number, but it was more than we had expected to see on this supposedly less busy route. Clearly, this hilly Camino is getting more popular!
We came to a small chapel in another hamlet, where we stamped our passes ourselves for the first time (the first stamp had been given to us by Oviedo Cathedral). To receive the Compostela, the certificate of completion of the Camino, you have to stamp your credencial twice a day for the last 100km of walking to Santiago. It’s nice how each place has its own stamp, allowing you to look back on where you’ve been. The chapel had a large tiled porch which could have served as a shelter, and we mused on how comparatively cushy the Camino is these days – hot showers and everything!
Eventually, our path turned off into the woods and became a bit narrower (though it was still paved). The ascents and descents became a little steeper, too. And then, on quite a steep hill leading down, just before we were going to reach the hamlet of Lloriana, I suddenly slipped. My ankle twisted under me with a horrible popping sound, and my Camino was brought to a sudden and painful halt – after just 8km of 320. What a moment to sprain my ankle for the first time ever!
To cut a long and stressful story short, Alfie managed to find a very kind man in the village who drove us first to the nearest doctor and then to the hospital back in Oviedo (it had been determined that I needed an X-ray). No one at either institution spoke more than a word or two of English – I felt very grateful for my scraps of Spanish and intermittent Duolingo practice I’d done before this trip. The X-ray I eventually received showed that my ankle was not broken (phew). I was sent away without crutches or a bandage, which would have been very helpful, but with the instruction to ice and rest the ankle and take ‘anti-inflamatorias’ (which you can’t get at the grocery store here, it turns out).
A taxi took us to the Airbnb I had hastily booked while at the hospital. It was around the corner from the first one we’d stayed in in Oviedo, and consisted of a very similar small one-bedroom flat in a large apartment block. I hopped my way in, and prepared not to move from the sofa for the rest of the day…
Alfie went out for provisions, and we had a rather nice homecooked dinner – we forgot to take a picture, alas – of rice with excellent tomatoes and chorizo picadillo (a kind of chorizo mince), salad, olives and the best sidra yet. At least Alfie is getting a chance to practice his pouring! We flicked through the Spanish television channels afterwards: a hilarious combination of dubbed American shows, very-low budget Spanish programs (including an inscrutable Basque education channel), the odd international channel (like CNN and BBC news), and a large amount of image-less radio stations. We settled on a simple-seeming game show called Pasapalabra – a sort of Countdown-meets-Numberwang – and enjoyed it very much.
I am incredibly disappointed to have my Camino cut short – and so soon as well – but we’re making the best of it. Luckily, Alfie can still go out and enjoy Oviedo (there are worse places to be stuck than the capital of Asturias). Who knows whether I’ll be off my feet until the flight home, or whether I’ll be able to do a little stretch of Camino after resting for several days.
For now, estoy inmobilizada…
– Bea