Many years ago, way back in another century, the Lone Guiri stepped off the FEVE train in the small Asturian town of Navia. Making his way into town he found a room in what was then almost the only hotel there was. First stop was the local tourist office, a fairly limited affair in those far off days. The man in the office wasn't really expecting any guiris although he didn't actually say "
We don't see many strangers around these parts". We chatted for a while in pidgin French, the only language in which we could understand each other. It emerged that Navia, like most of the region in mid-August, was in fiestas. Later on that day I met him again in the street and he introduced me to his friend the English teacher at the local school, which helped communication no end. The Lone Guiri then became the Adopted Guiri and spent a very enjoyable weekend in Navia with these two and their group of friends.
It's not a very pretty place to look at. I know because I've just been there again a couple of weeks ago.
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Your memory plays tricks with you after so many years because the place I remembered seemed to have been much smaller. Perhaps I didn't get the real measure of the town because it was in fiestas and I had a fairly thorough introduction to the concept of the cubata and the art of staying up very late. One place I do remember well is this beach and the trees that lie just a short distance behind it. It was in this place that we ate a huge paella cooked over a wood fire (probably illegal to do this now) and washed down with several bottles of Asturian cider.
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The area between the town and the sea is still very nice and unspoilt, and a walkway has been constructed beside the river for pedestrian access to the beach. There is also now a longer coastal route which can be walked, something to bear in mind for my next visit.
I hadn't even planned to come to Spain on that holiday, but the weather over the French Pyrenees convinced me to try my luck further south. I crossed the frontier with no guide book and about 5 words of the language. My first ever taste of Spain was San Sebastian, followed by Santander and Oviedo. Then I decided to try something that wasn't one of the bigger towns and the random biro point made a hole in the map just beside Navia. I enjoyed the other places I visited - particularly San Sebastian. However, as I drifted off into a paella and cider induced siesta by Navia beach I'm pretty sure that it was here where I first thought something along the lines of "
You know, I think I could come back to this country".