Camino del Norte Day 26: Avilés to Muros de Nalón
May 15, 2025
Breakfast at Cafeteria Graña while waiting out the rain
Fresh air of the seaside
Stormy skies
Bird of paradise flower (Strelitzia)
Roses are red
Norfolk Island pine (Araucaria heterophylla)
A Grievous Mire
Boots
The mud oozed around my ankles, and sometimes it completely engulfed my boots. There was nothing for it, so I decided embrace the struggle and sing a song. The one that came to mind was “Boots” by Rudyard Kipling, so I sang the three verses I could remember:
We're foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin' over Africa
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin' over Africa—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up and down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an'-twenty mile to-day
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up and down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
I—'ave—marched—six—weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,
But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
I marched along to the steady rhythm of the song, using my trekking poles to steady would-be slips. The trail gradually descended, and I passed a few less than happy hikers.
Finally I reached the bottom of the hill and tried to remove some of the mud from my boots. It was almost no use, so I just kept walking. I saw this beautiful six-spot burnet moth!
Six-spot burnet (Zygaena filipendulae) at a common knapweed (Centaurea nigra)
The road climbed steeply to the crest of a hill, revealing a winding river below. I passed a group of three Spanish pilgrims.
“Dura,” [tough] said one of them, noticing my flushed face and mud-stained pants.
They, too, were covered in mud.
“Sí,” I said, exchanging a sympathetic glance.
As I walked through the little town, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in someone’s storm door. My backpack was properly vagabond with sandals and laundry hanging off the back, and my messy bun was in a special state of dishevelment. Even in the incomplete reflection, I could see that my face was red from exertion and sun. What a time.
Walking across the bridge to Muros de Nalón
After crossing the bridge to Muros de Nalón, the Camino climbed steeply again to a sort of plateau. When I reached the albergue, La Naranja Peregrina, the hospitaleros, Louis and Bea, immediately welcomed me in. Louis brought me a cold drink, and Bea showed me to a room upstairs. They checked on me repeatedly and made sure that I was quite comfortable.
There were already several pilgrims at the albergue, some of whom were sleeping. As Louis was preparing dinner, he invited Yardena and me to come feed the baby goats scraps of butternut squash. They were so cute!
Feeding baby goats scraps of butternut squash with Luis, the host at La Naranja Peregrina
After a shower and a rest, I felt like a new person again. I decided to walk up the road fifteen minutes to explore the little town of Muros de Nalón.
Exploring Muros de Nalón
Pilgrim dinner at La Naranja Peregrina in Muros de Nalón. From left: Han (South Korea), Thomas (Germany), me (Tennessee, United States), Luigi (Italy), Yardena (Minnesota, United States), Walter (Germany), Bob (England), and Mick (Ohio, US)
Leaving my mark on the world
