To experience Asturias, Erica and I made our way to Oviedo, the capital. Oviedo isn't a particularly touristy city (which we figured out quickly from all of the looks that we got whenever we spoke English to each other) and in the end there weren't too many places that we felt we had to visit. So instead we filled our time walking around the city, eating and drinking and enjoying the general atmosphere of the region.
A part of Asturian culture we found immediately was right around the corner from our hotel...
Gascona, El Bulevar de la Sidra
Yes, Oviedo has a street of Sidrerías, or restaurants that specialize in sidra (cider). Sidra is a big thing in Asturias, where the apples are grown and converted into cider. It was in this area where Erica and I also had authentic fabada asturiana, a stew made of white (fabada) beans, chorizo, morcilla, and pork shoulder.
This was the first of many times that our Asturian dishes defeated us. Despite its deliciousness, knowing that it was only the first plate of the menú made it impossible to finish.
After eating, Erica and I had to take a lap to regain a basic comfort level. It sprinkled here and there, but the calm city was still enjoyable to walk around until we could sit down for a coffee without an overwhelming urge to loosen our belt buckles.
In the center of Oviedo
When we finally recovered and walked past a pastelería, I couldn't help but try the moscovitas, a crispy almond cookie covered with chocolate. Are we really surprised that this would interest me?
Moscovitas from Mallorquinas
In the evening, we went back to El Bulevar de la Sidra to experience sidra first hand. Over a bottle of sidra, Erica and I observed the others around us and learned a few things about sidra culture.
- The waiters serve you your sidra, and only ever a trago (or sip) at a time.
- The sidra is poured from about a wing span distance. The waiter holds the bottle up above their head as high as they can and then extends the opposite arm down, holding the cup at a 45° angle. This is to "break" the cider.
- After being given your trago, you have to drink it immediately. However, it is normal to leave a culin, or drop of sidra in the cup. You are then supposed to dump the culin, to give back to the earth what it has given you. (How philosophical!) The act of pouring out the extra also serves to clean off the area where your lips touched the glass, since it is common to share a cup with friends.
- For those unaccustomed to sidra culture, it is kind of uncomfortable to wait around in between tragos. While one could normally sip on a drink while chatting, we were left at the mercy of the waiters to be able to drink our sidra. So we just gaped at the waiters as they made their rounds to other tables and discussed how impressed we were that most of them looked away as they did the pouring. Later on, we realized that in some restaurants, Asturians pour their own sidra (but not from quite so impressive a distance) and in other restaurants there are fancy apparatuses to create the same effect with a few metal tubes. I prefer the waiters, I must say. They are more entertaining.
What a pro!
We took the bus to Gijón (costing us a whopping 4,70€/person for a round trip via pubic transportation) and were immediately greeted with the smell of salt in the air. That smell is one of my favorite smells in the world, bringing back memories of crossing into Ocean City and getting ready for long days with my feet in the sand. Wonderful memories. Anyway, as soon as we got there we went for a walk around the casco antiguo (old part of the city), which is a small peninsula jutting out from the rest of the city. Along the way we saw…
Boats
A nice view of Bay of Biscay, which is the large body of water above Northern Spain that leads into the Atlantic Ocean
An observatory overlooking the bay
Some cool sculptures
Street art, which brought back some fantastic memories of the alternative Berlin tour I took with Mom and Ali this summer :)
Then, in an effort to kill time until the socially appropriate lunch time, we creeped on a wedding for a bit. Since Spaniards are not very secretive with their staring, we didn’t hold back either and joined the group of wedding guests and random onlookers in observing the bride’s entrance.
In the main square
Then came lunch. Let me just say, Asturias once again impressed us. We hit up El Lavaderu, suggested to us by Annette, and we fully enjoyed our 2-hour eating experience. The food was amazing…
I actually have no idea
what type of fish this is, since I had our waitress give me the special
that she recommended the most. But in addition to all you see here, it
was wrapped around a potato and was absolutely delightful.
And the company wasn’t too bad either...
These old men and women sang (without holding back… at all) on and off for the entire time that we were there.
So basically, Gijón was a success.
Later in the evening, in Oviedo, we hung out in our HOTEL (not hostel, not airbnb…) before heading out to the city for some tapas. At this point I should probably explain why staying in a hotel seems like such a big deal.
First off, Erica and I found a great deal on a 3 star hotel, located right in the middle of the city. Since it was the same price as (or even cheaper than) a hostel, we decided to switch it up a bit. And when we got there, I basked in the luxury. I had a mini fridge and somebody made my bed for me! WHAT?! Plus, the water pressure in the full bath size shower was pretty dang awesome. I was living the high life. Now I’m sure a few of you are laughing at me, but when one is accustomed to staying in airbnbs and hostels (which are great, don’t get me wrong), a hotel seems almost overly posh. I couldn't get over the ridiculousness of them changing my towel after only one night when I normally I have to rent a towel (or large piece of sand paper) for 2€. Then, when we sprawled out on our beds to watch TV, I thought about the many nights I spent with Mom in the Hampton in Holland and realized how distant that world seems. My travels in Spain have taken on such different style than my travels in the U.S. that I seem to have forgotten that they have so much in common: experiencing/observing the style of life in a different place, trying out new restaurants, and enjoying a few days out of the normal routine. I’ve been blessed with so many experiences within the United States and I know many more await me once I get back. This weekend was just a small reminder that my travels don’t end when I leave Spain. Phew! (Now who knew a hotel room would spur all that thinking?!)
Alright, back to the trip...
On Sunday morning, Erica and I got up and headed off to see the 9th century Roman Catholic churches that are located just 3 km outside the city center. The buses that pass by the monuments leave every hour, on the hour, so we headed to the beginning of the line and got to the bus stop at 11 AM. We chatted with the bus driver and when we asked which stop we needed to get off, he told us to sit back and be tranquilas... it would take us an hour to get there. Whaaaaaaaat?! It took us less than a half an hour to get to another city! But, since we had nothing better to do, we got on the bus and rode around, watching the older couples get on and off the bus as we passed through different pueblos on the outskirts of the city. Then, about 35 minutes into the trip, I began to recognize our surroundings. We were driving past the park that was only a few minute walk from our hotel! For the following 15 minutes, we drove through the city and Erica and I laughed as we realized all the different stops where we could have caught the bus. Well, you live and learn. Finally, we left the city on the opposite side and got dropped off in front of the monuments almost exactly an hour after we got on it. Then we spent a whopping 20 minutes looking at the outside of the churches and walked back to the bus stop in time to catch the same bus on it’s way back into the city. That time we decided to cut the journey short and get off 15 minutes into the ride. We figured we had gotten our full 1,10€ worth the first time around.
Nevertheless, the morning ride was worth this beautiful view of Oviedo
San Miguel de Lillo, a 9th century Roman Catholic church
We were also quite eager to get off of the bus because of what we experienced in the last few minutes of our journey on the way to the monuments. At one of the bus stops, the driver opened the doors and immediately started talking to the woman who was about to board with her infant and young boy. He asked, rather brusquely, where she was going and when she responded, he told her that she needed to be on the opposite side of the street and to get on the bus going the other direction. Looking confused, she pointed in the direction the bus was going, saying something about how she thought her destination was in that direction. The driver repeated himself, insisting she needed to get on the bus going the other direction. Looking defeated, she retreated and put her coins back in her pocket as the bus drove away from her. After a few moments of silence, Erica and I looked at each other, confused about but at the same time very aware of what had just happened. We wanted to think that the bus driver was being helpful, keeping the woman from going out of her way. But with the way the bus driver and his friend were still joking about it a few minutes later, we both knew it wasn’t true. He hadn’t asked a single other person where they were going when they boarded. And she was the only black person that tried to board the bus. It’s undeniable and unacceptable; racism is prominent in Spain. That is why the UN published this article last year.
On a more light hearted note, once we were back in the city we took one last walk around the casco antiguo and stumbled upon some cultural musicians and dancers.
Gotta love the bagpipes
A bit of a cultural drum line… they were quite synchronized in their twirling of their drumsticks
Check out those shoes!
How precious…
The drummer in the background was really getting into it!
Overall, this trip really reaffirmed my desire to see all of the different autonomous communities in Spain. The trip was extremely relaxed, knowing that we were familiar with the language really allowed us to lose ourselves in the cities. And it was fun to realize that bagpipes are typical in parts of Spain and sidra is more integrated into Asturian culture than I’ve ever seen sangria integrated into a Spanish culture. I can now compare the canned fabada asturiana that my roommate Luis loves to the “real stuff” and fully agree with Spaniards when they insist, “Se comen muy bien allí” (They eat really well there). Granted, I didn’t endure the intense rain that comes with the winter months, but I much prefer to see the families out and about, enjoying their city in these early fall days. We encountered so many hospitable people, wiling to help us and chat with us and share their culture with us. It was absolutely wonderful to share in life in Asturias. But I have to recognize that it was wonderful because I am a white, young woman from the United States. And as beautiful as life was there, there is a great sorrow that others can’t experience it in the same way.
Much love,
Amber
