The last couple of days in Spain had us visiting the Picos de Europa for a spot of mountain climbing. Or, so it seemed. The day was hot, hot, hot. No shade. The mountain track goes up, up, up and up, and sometimes down. With the number of goats about, perching on rocky outcrops, this was truly goat country.
We stayed in wonderful accommodation best described as homely, with magnificent views of the mountains. Potes is the main town. Minus the lake and the commercialism it reminded us of Queenstown, Spanish style. Anna (shorter than me), our hostess talked non-stop, 100 miles an hour, only in Spanish. Thanks to Rosy and Christopher's help with the language we managed to sort out important things like our big hike, the best restaurants in town, the weather forecast and what we'd have for breakfast. We were farewelled with crushing hugs and the Spanish 3 kisses.
Stopping to enjoy the scenery.
The Picos de Europa, a national park of mountain peaks.
A stop at the historical village of Santanella de mar. We had to try the local cider. Check out the unique way of pouring it. I pushed the pump and Christopher caught the cider on its way out.
Another stop on our tootling drive we found a Gaudi house, so Rosy and I paid a visit. The outside tiles have a sunflower theme.
In the garden admiring Gaudi's talents with the man himself.
This tootling, cycling, exploring walks, swimming, paddle boarding and climbing mountains is thirsty work. Some people enjoy a beer.
Others a G & T. They know how to make them here.
Mothers have their uses. Just the right height for a leaning post. Happy to oblige.
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