The Picos de Europa National Park

The following day I drove out of the city, into the surrounding hills and to the provincial capital Vitoria, where I broke the journey for some lunch. A brisk stroll around the medieval old town after lunch was very rewarding. The place had a very relaxed air and it felt like I was the only tourist in town. Unfortunately there was no time to visit either of the cities reputedly excellent art galleries and I was already a little behind schedule when I got back behind the wheel heading west into the rolling hills of Castilla y Leon, off the autopista and onto the minor roads.

My more direct yet slower route was very enjoyable, the scenery somewhat reminiscent of Mid Wales and the sun was slowly setting as I passed the tranquil shores of the Embalse del Ebro, through the town of Reinosa and onto a rutted road which seemed to be leading nowhere. I stopped to ask some directions and eventually got back on track heading over the 1200m Puerto del Palombera with the light fading away. The road plunged down through the hairpins into the valley mist and the darkness. There were still three more passes to negotiate and plenty of technical twists and turns and it was after nine when I arrived in Arenas de Cabrales at the northern edge of the Picos de Europa national park, having worked up quite an appetite after the long drive. I soon polished off an excellent meal and a bottle of red wine at the hotel and joined some English lads, Andy & Adam who were into their last few days of their holiday in the mountains. We agreed to join a Danish walking party and tackle the 18km Garganta del Cares walk the next day.

A cloudy day dawned and Andy & Adam were nowhere to be seen so I set off with the Danes in a mini bus to the trailhead 4km out of town. The sun soon burnt off the early cloud revealing blue skies and a pleasantly warm day. This stunning gorge walk is one of Spain's most popular - the path was cut through the rock during the earlier half of the last century, claiming eleven lives in its construction. The limestone peaks tower above you and although your hemmed in by the steep sided gorge, the spectacular scenery never lets up. We encountered some colourful mountain goats en route but otherwise it was a very tranquil three hour walk with only a trickle of tourists passing in the opposite direction. The village of Cain marked the end of the gorge, sitting in a deep bowl surrounded on three sides by gigantic columns of stone which dwarf you by around 2000m, reminding me very much of Torres del Paine in South America. After a leisurely lunch we began the three hour walk back, Andy & Adam appeared on the path, both looking somewhat dishevelled (after I had left them, the drinking had continued into the early hours). The walk was even more beautiful on the return with the sun lighting the stone walls of the gorge.

The following morning, I drove up through the hairpin bends to the village of Sotres, perched 1000m up on the shoulder of the eastern massif and headed into the hills on a trail that I was hoping would take me to the viewpoint of Pico Urriello. However, after some 20 minutes up through the woods, the path doubled back taking me in the opposite direction - from here I could now see my mistake, another path ran on ahead over a pass and towards the rising wall of rock. Still it was an enjoyable morning stroll with the only sounds coming from the chatter of the birds and the jangle of the cow bells. Unfortunately I had only allocated two days to the mountains and needed to be in Leon that evening to realise my ambitious schedule. Back at the wheel the road wound its way south over the scenic Puerto del Ponton, the forest ablaze with burnt oranges and reds, onto the flatter roads of the meseta and into the city of Leon.