Potes & Porcida & Descent to Casa Oso
Side street in Potes. Flowers blooming in pots of all shapes are everywhere…
By lunch time on Day One, the town of Potes looks great! We descend from the worn dirt trail to the first asphalt road to the square with church, castle, bridge over a river: yes the most beautiful Pueblo in Spain just like the sign says.
It is remarkable how few people we see!.
Tourist in front of castle..
Good bye Potes! (See it down there?)
We will arc up and down a couple more mountains at the 45 degrees you see in this picture. The altitude graph below is deceptive, but still helpful. See those little wiggly lines? It’s lungs and legs, repeat, lungs and legs.
This forecast for our trek comes in an odd shaped green notebook that MP has room for….dangling preposition.
Later today, spread out on the path from the others, I find myself in the midst of an empty village. (They turn up in 15 minutes, ahead of me, just around the corner.)
Hello Porcida, a pretty little village completely abandoned. A “For Sale” and telephone number is scrawled on a beam over one of the doors. Great fun to imagine this place alive and restored. Only a 6 hour trek from nowhere. It may take a while to promote, but looks like this guy is trying it on… about to move in?
I will spare you the day by day blow by blow of every step I took. But there comes a settling in, a rhythmic pacing between steps and breath and the brain on a long trek. All systems in the body stay in motion. It is actually very soothing, meditative.
We are each keenly aware by late afternoon that we must cross the town of Tollo before we arrive at the Casa for tonight. It is a very long 3 more kilometers. We are simply thrilled to be at the second inn after a first hiking day. Bags arrived! The hostess is effervescent to see us. Mui candsada, si si. Her gardens are lovely, manicured, but it is still very early for blooms. We are So tired I have no pictures. We are the only ones staying here, the first of the season. except at the parador.
This low brick building was a monastery according to a sign we find on the other side of this valley where those dark green trees are….farther down the path.
The Wikiloc app downloaded to each of our cell phones drains their batteries, but in the mornings, it usually works pretty well, hmm, or until it turns itself off or it looses the trail!
Day 2 Tollo to Casa Oso turns into the longest of the trip – especially for me! To start, we spend an hour trekking back and forth losing the trail right out the front door of the posada. Later in the day, I end up way off course. While chugging up one more extra “mountain”, my back pocket sounds off. I hear “you have lost the trail!” My app had shut off, then turned itself back on. So, with a few grumbles, I find a short cut I remembered passing that drops straight off the mountain back down a goat path to a ridge to a lower path.
Ellie in the morning identifying more plants..
Meanwhile, the other 3 stop for lunch, enjoy a nice 30 minute rest. Michael texts me while they decide to move on instead of wait any longer (our basic agreement). They come into their next village where I have already arrived, found the ubiquitous water trough, learned from a local farmer how to disconnect the faucet to work the spigot for the best water. My very tired feet are up! Sandy and Ellie are so surprised to see me that they don’t recognize me! It will not be a long rest. Soon I resume my slower paced zone at the back of the line, but this one was luckily fun and funny!
These old sign posts show up on occasion offering a little history about the trails, if they are still readable. Many are badly weather worn. Luckily we have other resources!.
This is the District of Liebana or Lebanon. Peoples here cooperated with the Basques, never assimilating with Moors nor the Romans who they fought off for decades. It is their sheep trails and cork trees we see. And their farms. What an experience!
Most villages have asphalt roads now over ancient rock walled thoroughfares.
Stay to left on the field?? resume trail at the barn at the lower end of field…
This glorious view belies the incredible end-of-the-day descent down, over, across the “last field” on the trail. They said it was “not marked”. By contrast to what it looks like, our steep zig zagging boots waded through pot holed mud and poison oak. Cows hooves settle sink into this soft turf. How strong their legs must be. Michael’s foot disappears up to his knew, he looses his boot! Mine is almost as bad to my ankle. We are a muddy mix by the lower left of this pix.
It is 2 hours later when we trek up to the front door of Casa Oso, the nicest hotel I have seen since Bilbao. I hail a bellman who quickly finds us a plastic bag for boots! We are too late/tired to get a swim, or play tennis (!) but find plenty of time for a good hot shower and a meal! What a day. We sleep with windows wide open to hear a river rushing by. We will be crossing that bridge tomorrow. Until then, Thanks for reading!
All sorts of company on the trails – no other hikers in either direction….
Follow us 