Wendy's Platter…travels

December 9, 2025

We are pilgrims, but not in the traditional definition of a pilgrim. However, our 100 Day Euro trip is our own personal pilgrimage as we grow from our discovery of history, cultures, and living languages beyond textbooks and apps and Google inquiries.

As we left Porto, I realized we were now following one of the “caminos,” the most famous of which is the Camino de Santiago, the Way of St. James. From Porto north to Santiago del Compostelo is called the Portuguese Way and goes from Lisbon, through Porto and continues north to Santiago del Compostelo. My cousins Cindy and Tim (Tim had joined us on the Normandy/Loire Valley portion of our Euro 100 Days) had walked this same route a year ago. From the warmth and safety of our car, I kept thinking about them as they walked from town to town with their backpacks, found a place to stay for the night, and headed out again the next morning. Here we were, driving the same route in a day, with only a lunch stop in Santiago del Compostelo.

Cindy had mentioned the beauty of Vigo which merited a look. As we approached, it was easy to see why. Vigo reminded me of the Marin side of San Francisco Bay where Cindy and Tim grew up. For Cindy, who had moved to Atlanta, Georgia years ago, it was like going home. As it turned out, the weather was completely uncooperative and the rain kept us in the car and continuing north.

Arriving in Santiago del Compostelo, it seemed clear that heading to the huge cathedral on the hill was what was expected. The rain had not left us, so we were a little less enthusiastic about exploring, but we were here. Donning raincoats and umbrellas we followed the pilgrim crowds up to the cathedral. In the plaza, in front of the cathedral, was a long line of folks waiting to get in. We opted to acknowledge that we had reached our destination, turned back down the hill, and went in search of a Galician lunch.

Totalitarian dictator Franco ruled Spain after the Spanish Civil War from 1937 to 1975 when he died. In 1978, the Spaniards overwhelmingly approved a democratic constitution and celebrate their democracy on Constitution Day, December 6. We had arrived on December 6 which meant that many businesses were closed. Fortunately, we found a small café, bustling with the energy of a holiday.

We continued on to Avilés to settle into our Airbnb. Of all of our Airbnbs, this one, although well located was perhaps the most minimal of all so far. It was a small room with a sofa bed and a table we unfolded for our breakfast. All of that was fine, but there was no heat and the 56° temperature outside and inside our room was far from inviting.

The next morning we took off to explore Oviedo with a free walking tour. We had set up two free walking tours while we were in the Asturias area with the same guide: the first one in Oviedo, a town about 30 minutes from our Airbnb in Avilés, and a second one the next day in Gijon also about a 30 minute drive.

As it turns out, Constitution Day is just the beginning of the equivalent of a “three day weekend.” December 8 is the Day of the Immaculate Conception, also a holiday, so again, lots of shops were closed. However, it also meant that Spaniards were taking advantage of the holidays to travel, and apparently they made the same choices as we did.

With the Christmas season in full force, families were also out in full force, socializing, eating in cafés, window shopping, listening to the many street performers from opera singers, to guitarists, to rock bands, to small choirs, to bagpipes…yes, there are bagpipes in Asturias, the region of Spain where Aviles, Oviedo, and Gijón are. The Celts were there prior to the Romans, the Moors, and the Vikings, so bagpipes are part of their ancient heritage.

Our guide Tom spoke impeccable English, and as we found out later, another four or five languages. He was born in Spain to a Spanish mother and his dad is English. This allowed Tom to learn the two cultures through the two sides of his family. Tom grew up in Asturias and was able to fill us with Asturian history, culture, and, when he heard that food is one of my interests, he made sure to give us many food and drink recommendations.

Tom not only had the historical facts at his fingertips, he sometimes verified them by a quick check with his fingertips (online). When we asked a question he wasn’t sure of, he checked. Tom knew how to weave what could have been dry facts into a compelling story. Somehow he was able to tie together all of the many statues of kings and heros of the town into a mini-series of drama.

Aside from the stone statues of various kings, princes, Mary, and Jesus, there was a veritable outdoor art gallery of statues throughout both Oviedo and Gijón. There were bronze statues of some of the town’s favorite characters, both fictional and real: a character from a book, the town dog, Woody Allen, a cartoon character. In addition, there were the modern stone statues by a host of sculptors such as Fernando Bortero who’s “La Maternidad” made me smile, knowing that the sculpture is affectionately known as “La Gorda” and is a favorite meeting place.

As with all of Spain, Asturias has their culinary specialties. The drink of Asturians is sidra, or cider. For me, the Asturian cider was perfect, not too sweet and with a little kick…but even better than the taste, was the elaborate and appropriate “ceremony” to pour it into a glass. All cider is drunk from a very simple, glass cylinder with a relatively wide mouth. The bottles are also designed to help in the pouring process.

As the cider is poured from the bottle, the pourer raises his hand above his head allowing the cider to splash into the glass, thus aerating it. Proper etiquette has the pourer looking straight ahead without flinching or smiling, and certainly not looking at where the cider is going and that he/she is expected to get his/her arm fully extended above his/her head. Clearly, all of the waiters we saw had this down. At some of the restaurants, the waiter had a moveable cart with a stainless steel cylinder to protect the customers from wayward droplets of cider. It is a process and is taken seriously. Nick and I both tried our hands at it and only managed a mere 18-inches above the glass before cider was escaping onto the table. We left it to the experts.

Despite my devotion to Duolingo in the past few years to practice my French, give a stab at Portuguese (which was a bust as it was Brazilian Portuguese which is quite different from European Portuguese), and brush up on my Spanish, Spain turned out to be far more complicated, language-wise, than I expected. There are six co-official languages and a few others of Spain: Castillian or Castellano which is considered the standard Spanish of Spain, Catalan spoken in the eastern Spain around Barcelona, Valencian spoken on the south-eastern coast, Aragonian spoken in the north near the Pyrenees, Asturian spoken on the north-western coast, Galician which the area right above Portugal on the western coast, Aranese Occitan spoken in a small area in northern Spain, and Basque which is also in the north near the Pyrenees.

Duolingo did fine with for the basics of Castillian Spanish, but understanding that I would have to contend with two languages in most of the areas we visited in Spain was confusing, particularly when you were trying to read road signs. We have now been in Spain long enough to be ready to read “double” road signs, i.e. San Sebastian/Donostia…both of those names are the same city, the “San Sebastian” in Castillian, and “Donostia” in Basque. When you are driving, it really helps to do your homework before you hit the road!

In addition to multiple languages, the food is also regional. In Asturias (Avilés and Gijón) we not only drank the cider, but attempted to try local dishes. In Avilés, a seaport, we went to a seafood restaurant where I finally got to try one of the Asturian specialties, scallops. They were small scallops served on the shell, obviously broiled with an herb and butter mixture. They were everything I had hoped! And I scarfed them down so fast that I didn’t get a photo!

Metal waymarking signs in the sidewalks…there were so many. Historically, the camino pilgrimage paths were marked with actual scallop shells. Originally, the scallop shell was a sign of completion of the pilgrimage of the camino. The scallop shell design has been turned into a metal marker that is embedded in sidewalks to help mark the way for today’s pilgrims.

Metal signs have also been used by other groups. Some metal markers embedded in sidewalks indicate holocaust victims from that area. As we started to look down more (rather than up as we looked at church spires), we found many other metal markers from other groups, including the Spanish geological survey folks.

Our tour guide Tom met us again the next day in the sister town to Oviedo, Gijón. The mile long red sandy beach stretched before us with an equally mile long, wide cobblestone promenade about thirty feet above the beach. There were sixteen stairways and ramps down to the beach, making it accessible to all.

When we arrived in Gijón, the tide was out and the breakers, with perfect curls, made for what looked like the perfect surfing beach. There were a few intrepid surfers and paddle board enthusiasts, but as the tide came in, the waves crashed up and over the promenade, which explained why there were fewer surfers than expected.

Gijón, as Oviedo, had been a victim of the Spanish Civil War. As Tom pointed out a church or municipal building, he would ask us if we noticed anything odd about the building. The buildings invariably were pockmarked, not by nature, but rather something far more destructive…bullet holes. A civil war…which means neighbors against neighbors, sometimes families against families. This wasn’t 160 years ago like our civil war, it was almost half that, and in what I would call “modern times.” It was at this point in the tour that the reality of our U.S. politics began to creep up on me, making me wonder if we were headed in that direction.

In Gijón, Tom walked us up the hill that overlooks the beach and bay. By now the sun had set and the light was slowly leaking into the dusk. Because of the promontory’s entrance to the bay and port, it had, at various times in the history of Gijón, been a part of the defense of the city. Bunkers had been built, but in the end, never used. The property was acquired by the city and it was turned into a park with lovely views of the bay and plans to make a museum of the bunkers.

At the top of the hill, with a 360° view, was a monument to the city of Gijón. Although some sort of monument was to be expected, the monument itself was unexpected. It was designed by Spanish sculptor Eduardo Chillida and is entitled “Elogio del Horizonte,” or “Eulogy of the Horizon.” The name seems appropriate given the endless horizon of the Atlantic Ocean seen through it.

However, as with most works of art, not everyone agrees. Many of the townspeople refer to it as “a chunk of reinforced concrete” or “underwhelming modernism” or, for those with a more visual bent, the “toilet of King Kong,” Regardless of the aesthetic of the piece, it does act like a giant seashell by amplifying the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the cliffs hundreds of feet below. Does that erase the image of King Kong’s toilet or merely add sound effects? Not sure.

Leaving Avilés the next morning, we headed east towards San Sebastián. Our new friend, now former guide, Tom, had suggested a couple of stops along our route. The first was Comillas, a small, rural coastal town that had the feel of the Mendocino coast but with medieval walls, old churches, and town squares. Nick and I could see ourselves renting a room on the town square to watch from our balcony, the comings and goings of the town for a month or two…take a coffee at the café, to chit chat with our new local friends…

During our drive, the coast popped in and out of view, much like the small farms with horses, or sheep, or on occasion, cows. We also seemed to be playing peak-a-boo, (or was it hide-and-peak?), with the snow-capped Pyrenees in the distance. Yes, the spelling of peak is intended.

San Sebastián nestled up next to France is the last of our circumnavigation of the Iberian peninsula. From San Sebastián, we head inland to our final European destination, Madrid.

©2025 Wendy Platt Hill

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