Continuing the walking theme, the next day we drove up another of the five valleys that connect with Pola de Somiedo, to get to a suitable start point.
This was just below the last hamlet, Outeiro which is at the end of the tarmac. The intention was to walk from there, up to the corrie / cwm of Lago del Valle.
The snag of the day was that as we set off to drive the narrow steep road up the gorge from the campsite, we immediately caught up with a full size concrete lorry, This was making its way to that last village and el driver was not in a mood to pull over.
So we had time to look at the gorge-that-becomes-a-high-valley. It’s hard to describe these landscapes. They are severe, incredibly scenic, remote and completely unspoilt. They are also so near the ferry ports of the coast that only £800 separates them from more campervan travellers from Great Britain (& Northern Island).
We started the walk and soon saw the concrete which had already been dropped for the pad of a building. Now I’ve moved and laid a bit of the stuff, the biggest area being the floor of a silage clamp and I’ve never seen concrete laid so quickly. I didn’t inspect the work as I was more concerned that the three guys involved had run out of the mix and an area of rebar hadn’t been covered.
The mixer had headed off downhill; hopefully another was already on the way, with a very expensive smaller volume with which to complete the job.
It’s a good leg stretch up the valley but we enjoyed the sun and forgot about muscles and made our way up the high pastures. The sounds of cowbells are all around.
Farmers say that they know their stock and flock. One I knew well said he knew the faces of all his sheep and could recognise each of them. When they were penned up though and he needed to check they were all there, he said he counted the legs and divided by four.
These cows are all the same (as far as I can tell). They look like a stocky short horned Jersey and are all dairy, some sucklers too. There’s no sign of milking and strangely, not enough buildings for the winter. I can’t workout what happens then.
At the lake we eat our snack and watch and listen. It’s peaceful with just a few other walkers round, plus a Frenchman who’s lying in the sun, talking on his mobile. Yes 4G is here; it’s everywhere that 5G isn’t. Don’t believe any of the nonsense back home about good coverage. It’s appalling compared to this part of Espain.
The cool Frenchman was wearing cool pantalons and the reason became apparent. He mounted a fine horse, tied up round the corner in the shade and started to back down the valley. Bravo.
We went down too. The sun was strong and there was an alternative path that could take us through shady woodland. However the high temperatures of last week are a distant memory. It’s cold up here, just as it was yesterday and we walk in the sun all the way back to the village.
Here the three ‘builders’ are sitting waiting for the remaining concrete. It’s been several hours. Only now do I see the quality of the job. It reflects the speed at which it was laid this morning. There could have been no level gauge and no huge long two-man tamper used. It was shockingly un-level. A horrible job that could only be matched by a concrete block wall being built on a slope with the blocks laid parallel to it. Let’s try not to think about that, although that too, has been seen on this trip.
To hopefully catch the sun, both late and early, we opt for a small campsite in the village just below where we parked. This beautiful campsite here at Valle del Lago (Camping Lagos de Somiedo) is a real campers’ site. They aren’t allowed to drive cars onto the tent area. As a small campervan, we are directed to the small campervan area but its tiny and there already a VW T6ish there. We are instructed to go next to them.
The lady in charge has already told us that the season is over and that it stopped on August 15th with “the fires” but alas, this doesn’t mean that we can spread out and we can see that we are in the most shady spot possible.
Ah well, better get cooking and eat it whilst the air is warm. We cook up a grand feast of Sea Bass, courgette and red pepper and Rioja. The star of the menu though are plate of jacket potatoes with butter and seasoning. How did we do that? Well the campsite has a microwave oven in a little open kitchen built under a tree. Brilliant. There’s even time for some campsite playing.
We are right, it’s cold. Down to 2C overnight and it takes ages for the air to warm up in the morning. We are warm inside though, once the button has been pressed. Thanks Eberspächer,
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