With San Sebastián in our rearview mirror, we set off on the road to Gijón. As the kilometres ticked by, I couldn’t help but marvel at the engineering of Spain’s roads. Once again. I’m becoming an engineering nerd.
Tunnels that seemed to stretch forever, bridges that soared over deep valleys, and stretches of motorway so smooth they could have been ironed. It was a driver’s dream, and I made sure Mary knew it. Repeatedly.
“Look at this, Mary,” I said, gesturing wildly at a towering bridge. “Do you see how they’ve anchored it? It’s incredible!”
“Yes, Kevin,” she replied patiently, glancing up from her book. “You’ve mentioned it about five times now.”
The scenery was equally stunning. Green, lush, and quiet—Northern Spain felt like it belonged to us alone. We passed rolling hills, dense forests, and tiny villages that needed to be visited. One day.
Somewhere along the way, Mary suggested we take a detour to explore one of those villages. Never one to refuse an adventure (or the promise of coffee and a cheeky cana), I turned off the main road.
A Village in the Clouds
The village, whose name we couldn’t pronounce and have since forgotten—was perched high in the mountains. The narrow streets wound their way between stone houses, many of which looked older than my knees feel on a cold morning. We parked the van up on the outskirts and wandered through the quiet alleys, marvelling at the simplicity of life here.
“Imagine living here,” Mary said, pausing to admire a tiny vegetable garden. “No noise, no traffic. Just peace.”
“No phone signal either,” I pointed out, earning a playful swat on the arm.
We stopped at a small café where the owner greeted us with a smile that needed no translation. Two coffees and a slice of what he called “tarta de la abuela” later, we were back on the road, feeling like we’d uncovered a hidden gem. But the name still eludes us.
Big News on the Way
Not long after returning to the main road, Mary’s phone rang. It was Emma, our daughter. Mary’s face lit up as she listened, nodding and murmuring excitedly. When she hung up, she turned to me with tears in her eyes.
“We’re going to be grandparents again,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s a boy!”
I nearly swerved off the road in my excitement. “A boy? That’s fantastic! When’s he due?”
“December,” Mary said, grinning. “Emma wanted to tell us before she announced it to everyone else.”
The rest of the drive was filled with talk of names, plans for visits, and names. Kevin wasn’t on the list.
Late Arrival in Gijón
The mountain detour and the celebratory chatter meant we arrived in Gijón later than planned. By the time we rolled into town, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city. Too tired to search for a campsite, we decided to park in a hotel car park near the beach. It wasn’t the cheapest option, but after the long day, convenience won out.
We were both too knackered to cook, so we wandered to a nearby bar for dinner. The place was bustling, filled with locals chatting over glasses of cider and plates of food. Mary ordered a burger with goat cheese and caramelized onions, while I went for a classic beef burger loaded with bacon and fried egg.
“Not exactly traditional Spanish cuisine,” Mary said as she took her first bite, “but I’m not complaining.”
“Sometimes, a good burger is all you need,” I replied, savouring mine. It wasn’t the fanciest meal we’d had, but it hit the spot.
Looking Ahead
As we strolled back to to the caravan on wheels, bellies full and spirits high, I couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in a single day. From mountain detours to life-changing phone calls, this trip continued to surprise us at every turn. Gijón, with its coastal charm and laid-back vibe, felt like the perfect place to pause and take it all in.
Tomorrow, we’d explore the city properly. We’ll let you know how we get on. Zzzz
