Picos de Europa

Hike 1: Arenas de Cabrales – Poncebos – Tielve – Poncebos

Distance: 16.77km
Time: 4hrs 40min
Elevation: Gain 594m | Loss 603m
Max Elevation: 499m

We started the day with Mom sneaking off to the bathroom. I did laugh to myself imagining her sitting in there knitting while I slept, desperately trying not to disturb my ridiculously sensitive sleep needs. Unfortunately for her, her footsteps were just loud enough for my overly attentive ears to get the day rolling a little earlier than planned.

Since completing my breathwork training, I have been trying to keep a few of the practices alive in everyday life. One of them is taking 28 conscious breaths before getting out of bed and spending a few moments in a felt sense meditation. So before any moving started, we lay quietly and did that together.

Arenas de Cabrales is such a beautiful little town that we were keen to have a wander and grab a coffee before moving on. We strolled through the cobbled streets, surrounded on all sides by seemingly endless mountain peaks. The morning light struck the different textures of the rock faces beautifully, creating shadows and highlights that shifted with every turn. The flowers spilling from the locals’ balconies seemed to glow in the sunlight. We eventually found a small café, ordered cappuccinos and played a game of backgammon.

The coffee was excellent.

After all the route updating and deliberating the night before, we felt fairly confident about the day ahead. We had decided to ease ourselves into the hiking, particularly with our 16kg packs, and so rerouted the day to follow the western side of the valley. This meant walking about 5km along the road to Poncebos.

Fortunately, the road followed the river and wound its way through spectacular mountain scenery, so it was still a beautiful walk. That said, we both have our limits when it comes to road walking. Your feet seem to tire more quickly and there is a certain monotony to it. We were relieved when we finally arrived in Poncebos.

Calling it a town feels somewhat generous. It is more a narrow strip tucked into the valley, with a handful of hotels serving as a gateway between this section and the higher mountain routes. What immediately caught our attention was the river. The water was that icy blue colour that only the coldest rivers seem to possess, rushing beneath the hotels and around a rather obtrusive power station. Everything else felt wild and untouched, making the industrial structure stand out all the more. Still, we were grateful for the electricity later when we enjoyed one of the best hot showers imaginable.

After dropping our bags and ordering another coffee, we confirmed the plan for the rest of the day. Leaving our packs at the hotel, we lightened the load considerably and set off with only lunch and water for an out-and-back hike to Tielve.

When I asked the lady behind the bar about the route, she replied, “Ah, but nobody does that route. It may be very overgrown.”

I smiled. My mum and I do occasionally have a habit of choosing these sorts of adventures.

That said, we have made a promise to each other to listen when our intuition speaks loudly against a route we have planned.

The beginning felt a little precarious. There had clearly been a landslide at some point, leaving a huge fan of loose shale spread across the mountainside. Looking at it, I thought to myself, I really don’t want to spend the whole day climbing through this.

So we made a deal. We would cross the first section and see how things looked around the bend.

Around the bend, everything changed.

The route became absolutely beautiful. It traversed the valley high above the river, following its path through the mountains below. The views were exquisite. Everywhere we looked there were towering peaks, dramatic cliffs and vast expanses of untouched landscape stretching in every direction.

We didn’t see another soul.

Just yellow butterflies, which I always associate with surrender, and lilac butterflies, which somehow feel like intuition.

As the sun climbed higher, the day became surprisingly warm. The moment we found a shady tree, we gratefully collapsed beneath it and unpacked our dehydrated lunches, which had of course been rehydrated by then.

A quick note on the food. We have discovered what may be the perfect system. We boil water in the morning, add it to the dehydrated meal along with any spices we want, and then leave it sealed until lunchtime. By then the rice is perfectly cooked and the flavours have had hours to develop.

As a result, our mountain-top chicken curry was far more delicious than it had any right to be.

The return journey felt much easier. Somehow we slipped into one of those wonderful conversations where time disappears completely. Before we knew it, we were back near Poncebos and fully focused on finding a swimming spot.

This proved harder than expected in such a steep-sided valley, but persistence paid off. We eventually found the most beautiful pool and immediately immersed ourselves in the freezing water. Every tired muscle thanked us for it.

It was perfect.

In truth, the whole first day had been perfect.

The only shock has been discovering that mountain restaurants in Spain do not open until 8pm. We have been nursing increasingly hungry stomachs since 6pm, waiting patiently for kitchen doors to open so we can replenish some much-needed protein.

The wait was worth it.

The steak was delicious and whatever they do with vegetables in these mountains, they do it very well.

Our hotel is quaint and exactly what you imagine a mountain hotel to be. Simple, slightly pokey and without much open communal space. Interestingly, everything happens indoors. The restaurant is indoors. The lounge is indoors. Everyone seems to gather inside, regardless of how spectacular the scenery may be.

The room itself is wonderfully comfortable and breakfast is included at a rate that feels almost unbelievable.

Sometimes it is genuinely mind-blowing how much value you get for your money in the mountains.