D on't get me started about Asturias. I could go on and on about this inexplicably little-visited region wedged between Galicia and Cantabria along the north coast of Spain.
I have been known to get very boring about its dramatic landscapes, its superb beaches, its excellent food, its unique pre-Romanesque architecture, its affable locals, and the strange fact that, as yet, few people seem to share my unbridled enthusiasm for the place.
Asturias is very Spanish in some ways, and surprisingly unlike the rest of the country in many others. Its Celtic, Atlantic culture is the polar opposite of the indolent, sherry-sipping, sun-lounging outdoor life of the Mediterranean. The greenness of Asturias is astounding, especially if you're coming from the parched plains of the Spanish south. You might also argue that the region is a microcosm of Spain as a whole, cramming into its borders everything from snowy mountains to sandy beaches, humble tapas bars to avant-garde restaurants, and from raucous local fiestas to silent valleys where bears and wolves still roam.
The community has no fewer than 24 nature reserves, including one parque nacional and three of Spain's largest parques naturales. Where I live, in the Spanish south, three months of spring had gone by without a drop of rain, and the countryside bore a withered, desperate look. Tired of dust and unseasonal heats, I wanted greenness and pleasantness, mountain streams and ocean views. So I worked up a trip, my fourth or fifth to the region, that would take in a little of each of the things I love about Asturias: the rural essences, the modest urban pleasures, the beaches and the wild interior, the simple traditional food and the fab contemporary cuisine.
I'd then devote a day to cider, another to cheese - because Asturias is the uncontested cheese HQ of Spain - a day to the Alpine landscapes of the Picos de Europa, and another to the coast. I drove north through Castile, taking the motorway that powers through high mountain passes, past lakes and staggering peaks, before turning downhill into a suddenly green world of chestnut woods and rich pastures, and depositing you eventually in Oviedo.
