Saturday, 27 June 2026

Hot or What? – Northern Spain

Our first impression of North Spain was it felt an awful lot like Wales (mountains, beaches and lush greenery) but with heat. Our favourite patch was the Asturias, between Ribadesella and Llanes, about an hour’s drive west of Santander. Our last visit was made memorable by the wildlife – we saw a scorpion and a tarantula. At least, I think it was, but it could have been a very large, extremely hairy arachnid – anything bigger than a money spider is monstrous as far as Jo’s concerned.



Llanes
I have great memories of this villa (bottom left above) with the cute balcony, particularly lying on the grass watching the stars – the almost total lack of light pollution meant we saw way more stars than we ever do over here. Like a hundred times more. And I couldn’t get over the idea of having mountains on one side of the road and beaches on the other. I remember jogging up to the top of the ridge behind the villa and finding a huge, Dolmen-sized rock, which became my daily route. And you could see it from the road. The bottom right piccy above was one Jo used as a basis for her art GCSE. It now hangs in our bedroom – proud mum or what?

Beach of Caves (Playa de Cuevas del Mar)
About a dozen miles west of Llanes, we returned here day after day, year after year. Apart from exploring the caves, which was a big draw, it had one of the safest coves, deep enough to swim in (when the tide was in), but shallow enough that even Stephie (who was only 4) could paddle safely without fear of the crashing waves. Being me, a favourite challenge was to swim through the gap in the rocks, which I did many times. Only once did I get caught – the tide was going out rapidly and a bunch of local lads were daring each other to attempt it, but they were all too scared. With my “I’ll show you English courage” head on, I stalked past them and swam through. It was a tad choppy, and when I emerged, both knees were bleeding from being dashed against the rocks. Still have the scars today, but in retrospect, there’s nothing funny or clever about a 40-yr-old woman dripping blood all over the beach.

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