Adventures in Asturias
As the bus drove accross the border I could barely see the sign ´Principado de Asturias´ because of the white out conditions. The quiet rain had become blowing snow that painted the mountains white and I started wondering how many sweaters I had packed. My first destination was Oviedo, the capital of the neighbour Spanish region I planned to explore. Using the word ´planned´ is a little overstated because it was more of an early morning decision for my Semana Santa, Holy week or pre-Easter holidays. It is a time of year known as ´Operacion salida´ as almost everyone leaves or exits the city to go on holidays in the South. That is one of the reasons I headed North, or rather East. When I left, I was mildly concerned that the youth hostel was full, but I figured if I arrived early I would be able to fnd a bed for the night.
My strategy for shopping for accomodation is to circle the transportation stations and the main tourist sites in the city centre. While doing this I wandered onto a quiet side street and found a small pensione run by a family. It was perfect for me except for the lack of heating, but I am getting a little used to that now.
Next stop was the tourism office which is usually in the main square of the city centre, but with the medieval design of the streets in the old city it was a little hard to find. To adapt my North American sense of logic which instinctively reasons with square parallel streets I pick a landmark and try to radiate from it and then go back to it again when I am lost. I picked San Francisco park as my landmark and went from there. At this point it was only raining a little bit and I had hopes it would clear.
Tourism offices make me excited with all the coloured pamphlets and I usually leave them quite well-informed and carrying a collection souvenir papers and maps. While I was waiting to speak to an information officer I saw a curious pamphlet for a festival, and sure enough I was in town for the last theatre performance. To me it was a perfect find; free theatre about small town life in Asturias in the 1800s. One small catch was that some of it was in Asturiano or ´Bable´ as the regional dialect is called, but the singing, dancing and gaita (bagpipe) music made up for it.
The next morning I had lots to see so I got up and left the pension early. The night before the family had k
indly offered to put my umbrella in the kitchen to dry, but unfortunately in the morninng the door was locked and no one was up. It was still pouring rain, but I figured I would tough it out with my rain jacket. Shortly after I was on a bus going to visit two of the pre-roman churches that are in the mountains on the edge of town. I was the only one on the bus, so I sat at the front to enjoy the view and have the bus driver tell me where to get off.
He asked me where I was from and I said ´Canadá´. In Spanish the word it has an accent at the end, which indicates the word stress and that is something I am still not very good at, especially when it is a word I often use in English and somehow he understood ´Canarias´ or the Canary Islands. Once that was corrected he asked me if it was a rich country and I said ´yes´. That question made me think of a conversation I had had a day previous about the idea that I should be treated in a certain way because I came from a rich country and I wondered if he was thinking that. Our conversation continued to be confused when I told him I was working in Lugo, which apparently is also the name of a small town near Oviedo making it strange that I did not know the bus stop. Then he asked me about why I did not have an umbrella and I explained. When we got the stop he insisted that I take his small black umbrella and that I could leave it with the bus driver on the way back. He told me his name was ´Jésus´ and I thought to myself that won´t be too hard to remember. Getting off the bus I felt thrilled by his spontaneous generosity and full of energy for my rainy hike up to the churches. (It´s so easy to write reported speech in English, unfortunately it is not so easy in Spanish)
After the tour I raced back into town for the Palm Sunday procession which I found by following the sound of gaitas. Just like in France, instead of having free palm leaves inside the church, there are people in the streets who sell bush branches for the mass.
Following that I went to find the folk song performance that a friendly woman sitting next to me at theatre the night before had told me about. Well it turned out to be another authentic experience, maybe even too authentic. I would re-name the event ´Asturian Idol´ b
ecause it was actually a competition in which mostly seniors were competing, singing traditional songs. I got to hear many variations of the powerful ´Tonada´ song which is a loud form of singing in which the singer sings or yells over top of an accompanying gaita. It sounded like the singing could have originated from people calling to each other from one mountain to the next. At intermission I decided it was time for me to pick up my umbrella and to catch the bus to Ribadesella.
Over the next few days I visited the beautiful towns of Ribadesella, Llanes, Covadonga and Conga de Onis before catching the bus to meet some friends in Burgos.
As the bus drove accross the border I could barely see the sign ´Principado de Asturias´ because of the white out conditions. The quiet rain had become blowing snow that painted the mountains white and I started wondering how many sweaters I had packed. My first destination was Oviedo, the capital of the neighbour Spanish region I planned to explore. Using the word ´planned´ is a little overstated because it was more of an early morning decision for my Semana Santa, Holy week or pre-Easter holidays. It is a time of year known as ´Operacion salida´ as almost everyone leaves or exits the city to go on holidays in the South. That is one of the reasons I headed North, or rather East. When I left, I was mildly concerned that the youth hostel was full, but I figured if I arrived early I would be able to fnd a bed for the night.
My strategy for shopping for accomodation is to circle the transportation stations and the main tourist sites in the city centre. While doing this I wandered onto a quiet side street and found a small pensione run by a family. It was perfect for me except for the lack of heating, but I am getting a little used to that now.
Next stop was the tourism office which is usually in the main square of the city centre, but with the medieval design of the streets in the old city it was a little hard to find. To adapt my North American sense of logic which instinctively reasons with square parallel streets I pick a landmark and try to radiate from it and then go back to it again when I am lost. I picked San Francisco park as my landmark and went from there. At this point it was only raining a little bit and I had hopes it would clear.
Tourism offices make me excited with all the coloured pamphlets and I usually leave them quite well-informed and carrying a collection souvenir papers and maps. While I was waiting to speak to an information officer I saw a curious pamphlet for a festival, and sure enough I was in town for the last theatre performance. To me it was a perfect find; free theatre about small town life in Asturias in the 1800s. One small catch was that some of it was in Asturiano or ´Bable´ as the regional dialect is called, but the singing, dancing and gaita (bagpipe) music made up for it.
The next morning I had lots to see so I got up and left the pension early. The night before the family had k
indly offered to put my umbrella in the kitchen to dry, but unfortunately in the morninng the door was locked and no one was up. It was still pouring rain, but I figured I would tough it out with my rain jacket. Shortly after I was on a bus going to visit two of the pre-roman churches that are in the mountains on the edge of town. I was the only one on the bus, so I sat at the front to enjoy the view and have the bus driver tell me where to get off.He asked me where I was from and I said ´Canadá´. In Spanish the word it has an accent at the end, which indicates the word stress and that is something I am still not very good at, especially when it is a word I often use in English and somehow he understood ´Canarias´ or the Canary Islands. Once that was corrected he asked me if it was a rich country and I said ´yes´. That question made me think of a conversation I had had a day previous about the idea that I should be treated in a certain way because I came from a rich country and I wondered if he was thinking that. Our conversation continued to be confused when I told him I was working in Lugo, which apparently is also the name of a small town near Oviedo making it strange that I did not know the bus stop. Then he asked me about why I did not have an umbrella and I explained. When we got the stop he insisted that I take his small black umbrella and that I could leave it with the bus driver on the way back. He told me his name was ´Jésus´ and I thought to myself that won´t be too hard to remember. Getting off the bus I felt thrilled by his spontaneous generosity and full of energy for my rainy hike up to the churches. (It´s so easy to write reported speech in English, unfortunately it is not so easy in Spanish)
After the tour I raced back into town for the Palm Sunday procession which I found by following the sound of gaitas. Just like in France, instead of having free palm leaves inside the church, there are people in the streets who sell bush branches for the mass.
Following that I went to find the folk song performance that a friendly woman sitting next to me at theatre the night before had told me about. Well it turned out to be another authentic experience, maybe even too authentic. I would re-name the event ´Asturian Idol´ b
ecause it was actually a competition in which mostly seniors were competing, singing traditional songs. I got to hear many variations of the powerful ´Tonada´ song which is a loud form of singing in which the singer sings or yells over top of an accompanying gaita. It sounded like the singing could have originated from people calling to each other from one mountain to the next. At intermission I decided it was time for me to pick up my umbrella and to catch the bus to Ribadesella.Over the next few days I visited the beautiful towns of Ribadesella, Llanes, Covadonga and Conga de Onis before catching the bus to meet some friends in Burgos.
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