Hike 6: Hotel del Oso, Cosgaya to Posada San Pelayo

Distance: 9.9km
Elevation Gain: 327m
Time: 3h14m

There was a part of me that didn’t want to leave the hotel today.

We had stumbled upon a slice of wild heaven tucked into an unsuspecting valley called Cosgaya, and I truly think I will dream about that garden for years to come.

My eyes have been drawn to the roses along this route. Every village we pass through and every path we walk seems to be overflowing with them. They appear in every shade across the yellow-to-red spectrum, spilling out of gardens, climbing over walls and arching across pathways. And the smell… oh, the smell. It is like opening a box of Turkish delight.

Every time I see one, my heart flutters a little.

The thorns are equally present, quietly reminding you that beauty deserves respect. And perhaps that is part of why I love them so much.

When we arrived at the hotel yesterday afternoon and discovered that the entire garden was overflowing with wildflowers, I genuinely thought I had found heaven. This is my dream garden. Nothing overly manicured. Nothing too perfect. Everything allowed to grow, bloom and fade in its own time.

I suppose that mirrors the journey I have been uncovering over the last ten months.

Stop trying to prune me into a beautiful English rose in a formal garden. I want to be wildly wonderful in a Spanish wildflower meadow. Beautiful, thorny and unpruned. Natural to the core, seasonal and wild.

Anyway, Mum took me out on a date night last night, which was wonderful.

Before dinner, we spent some time doing a one-on-one breathwork session together. It was such a beautiful way to end the day. Afterwards, we headed downstairs for an aperitivo.

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of looking away while the barman poured Mum’s gin and tonic.

By the time I had taken two sips of my wine, her glass was nearly empty.

This is a known recipe for disaster.

So I quietly manoeuvred her gin and tonic behind the napkin dispenser and replaced it with a sparkling water. It worked beautifully.

Although admittedly, it was already too late.

She had firmly arrived on giggle street.

Dinner began with fits of laughter, which was lovely. The challenge, however, is that deep sleep usually follows closely behind. We were racing against the clock.

The issue with Spain is that dinner happens remarkably late. We are still struggling to adjust to the rhythm of the country. I am fairly convinced that nobody here believes 7am exists.

In fact, yesterday morning when we left the hotel, there was not a single human awake. The only evidence of life we encountered was a wolf helping itself to the contents of a rubbish bin.

A real wolf.

Despite some scepticism from various corners of the world, Mum and I stand by our sighting.

Back at dinner, Mum had become completely fixated on the woman carrying the bread basket. She seemed to be delivering warm, freshly baked bread to every table except ours.

We desperately needed that bread to absorb some of the gin.

Eventually it arrived, bringing with it a collective sigh of relief.

The vegetables were somewhat over-steamed, but the meat here continues to be exceptional. The steaks and burgers have become the stars of most of our meals. The burger patties are freshly made and the steaks are beautifully tender and cooked to perfection.

Unfortunately, Mum committed a small culinary faux pas and ordered a fillet.

Now, a fillet in Spain appears to be a very different concept from a fillet in Cape Town.

Her meal arrived looking somewhat underwhelming while my enormous entrecôte landed in front of me looking absolutely magnificent. Thick, juicy and perfectly cooked.

There was definitely some food envy at the table.

Thankfully it was far too much for me to finish, so I shared some and took the rest away for breakfast the following morning.

The staff here have been incredibly kind.

After dinner I needed to walk off the feast, so we wandered up towards the church and discovered a path we hadn’t noticed before. It wound through the hotel’s wildflower garden and, as you can imagine, I was completely enchanted.

As we followed the path, we discovered beautifully positioned seating areas hidden throughout the grounds. Beneath trees, beside the river and tucked into quiet corners were little spaces designed for two people to sit and simply be.

Reclining wicker chairs. Perfect views. The sound of flowing water.

They had thought of everything.

This place has firmly secured a spot on my return list.

So yes, coming back to today, I could quite happily have stayed longer.

But we have a route to walk and a coastline to reach.

We made coffee in the garden before setting off through another beautiful stretch of meadow. Once again, there were no cars, very few people and only the occasional cow or snake to greet us along the way.

The walking itself was relatively easy today.

Naturally, Mum decided this meant we should add an extra climb.

I complained a little as the gradient increased, but truthfully I don’t really mind a challenge. What surprised me was how heavy my body felt. My legs were fine, but my backpack seemed determined to drag me backwards by my neck.

I stopped several times to adjust straps and redistribute weight, but nothing seemed to help.

I think the culprit may be my iPad.

I had to bring it because I couldn’t leave it with my stored luggage, and I also need it for my breathwork classes while I am away. Combined with the keyboard attachment, however, it is astonishingly heavy.

Every gram matters on a hike.

So when we arrived in the village of Mogrovejo and spotted a café, I had absolutely no hesitation in dropping my pack.

The café, unfortunately, was closed.

While our bags remained safely attached to a chair that wasn’t me, we wandered through the village searching for coffee.

Nothing.

Everything was closed.

The Spanish timetable continues to confuse us. Most places seem to open somewhere between 10 and 10:30am.

Eventually, the lady who lived above the café opened her front door. We asked if she might be willing to make us coffee and, after a moment of consideration, she reluctantly served us two cappuccinos.

It is one thing we have noticed on this trip. While we have met some wonderfully friendly people, the warmth has felt a little less immediate than we are accustomed to in mountain communities elsewhere. Perhaps it is a language barrier, perhaps it is simply a different culture. Either way, it has been an interesting observation.

Caffeinated and revived, we continued our walk alongside the river and through a series of tiny villages.

Today felt like the furthest we have been from the dramatic peaks of the Picos. We were surrounded more by forests and meadows now, with the mountains lingering in the distance rather than towering overhead.

It was still beautiful.

The river accompanied us for much of the afternoon until we eventually found the perfect swimming spot.

There is something incredibly satisfying about peeling off a backpack after several hours of walking, stepping into an icy river and surrendering to the shock of cold water.

It feels like medicine.

We thought we still had another three kilometres to go when suddenly the map informed us that our accommodation was only fifty metres away.

Apparently we had accidentally added a detour into the route and confused ourselves.

No complaints from either of us.

As we walked towards our bed for the night, the sight of our accomodation immediately put huge smiles on our faces.

It was breathtaking.

Massive wooden mountain manor houses surrounded by sprawling lawns, wild roses climbing every available surface and mountain peaks rising dramatically behind them.

Sometimes words simply don’t do a place justice.

This was one of those moments.

By now my body was tired and I knew I needed a nap. However, restaurants in the area were limited and we had already decided we were done waiting for 8:30pm dinners. The new strategy was simple: eat a substantial lunch and survive dinner on snacks.

The only restaurant we could find was at a nearby camping village, so we walked there in the midday heat and were delighted to discover cool indoor seating and actual fans.

Luxury.

Once again we ordered the now-familiar combination of burgers, a fresh goat’s cheese salad, sparkling water and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Simple, delicious and exactly what we needed.

The afternoon was spent reading, resting and soaking up the beauty of another wonderful place.

And honestly, it felt like a perfect day.