What a slow trip to northern Spain really looks like

Fernando ‘Fer’ Aberquero lives in a house he built in the woods, keeps his own endangered breed of sheep, studied environmental science, and has a passion for botanicals. This is the type of guide you want with you around the Picos de Europa mountains, one of the most biodiverse areas in Europe. “I learnt my knowledge 50% at university and 50% talking to shepherds,” he said. And even though he told uswe might not spot a chamois – the sometimes-elusive but not rare goat-antelope found on these slopes – we kind-of knew with Fer, we probably would (disclaimer: wildlife is, of course, never guaranteed).

The Picos de Europe are a majestic pack of peaks, stretching for 20 kilometres across the northern Spanish regions of Asturias, Cantabria, and Castile and León. It’s Spain’s only inhabited nature reserve with 11 villages, and it’s carefully protected – particularly in areas where brown bears and unique flora can be found. “We don’t want mass tourism anyway,” said Fer who runs his own company, ProNatura. “We want people to understand it’s a fragile environment – you don’t hug your 90-year-old grandad the way you hug your best friend.”

It was one of our group who spotted the first faint outline of a chamois (yes, chamois of car cleaning cloth, although sheepskin is mainly used now). We watched it move across the ridge of the mountain and congratulated ourselves for our first sighting. Later, we came across a group of mostly females with their kids. They tend to congregate like this, Fer told us, unless wolves are around, then they scatter.

The author spotted the sometimes-elusive chamois (Alamy Stock Photo)

Fer takes his guests on a trip into the Picos de Europa mountains (Alamy Stock Photo)

‘Slow travel’ is part-and-parcel of how Fer plans his Picos de Europa trips. It’s about taking it in, enjoying, not rushing. It’s in perfect sync with how I arrived in Spain, on a 33-hour, two-night Brittany ferry from Portsmouth into Santander, lulled to sleep by the sea and waking to big ocean views from my cabin. No airport anxiety, stop-start queuing and bag-emptying. There’s something seductive about taking a longer time to arrive somewhere relatively close: You feel the distance you’ve travelled.

After a picnic lunch in the valley, Fer took us to a cheese factory run by a local family. The Picos’ vertical landscape suits goats, so goat’s cheese is particularly popular. “”Cheese helps you to survive,” said factory co-owner Juanjo Fernández Torrontegui. Turns out he’s not referring to me specifically and my cheese addiction, but that cheese has long been shepherds’ energy food and the stone cottages scattered about the Picos were used for storage. This is a landscape full of history and heritage. Later, en route to our forest bathing spot, Fer told us that 50 years ago, some hundreds of shepherds and their families would settle in mountain refuges for five months of the year – now, just seven or eight families do this.

Back at the Parador Cangas de Ongísin Asturias where I stayed on the River Sella with views of the Picos, I sipped wine in the courtyard in what was the former eighth-century palace of the second king of Asturias, then a Benedictine monastery until the nineteenth century. Spain’s state-run Paradores are a real treat. Mostly heritage buildings transformed into hotels and usually just slightly off the main tourist route (but close enough), their USP is their historical significance, location and restaurant, in their aim to promote local culture, food and heritage. The brainchild of King Alfonso VIII in 1928, the Parador network has a dual purpose of preserving historically interesting buildings and providing accommodation in areas without much of it. This particular one is an exceptionally beautiful restoration; original stone and wood features still intact, the chapel and monastery perfectly preserved, and an atmospheric courtyard. During the Spanish Civil War between 1936 and 1939, many Paradores were damaged or used as hospitals, taking the number from 83 to 40. The 1960s saw the greatest expansion, alongside a surge in Spanish tourism; today, there are 97 Paradores.

The author enjoyed a class of wine in the courtyard at Parador Cangas de Ongis (Parador Cangas de Ongis)

Working with locals like Fer – and Pepín, a local shepherd and cider maker, who we met later – has become part of the Paradores’ Nature for the Senses experiences. It turns out Pepín was Fer’s first friend when Fer moved to Asturias, and Pepín taught him how to tend sheep and make cider: both men are motivated to ensure local traditions are practised and celebrated. There’s a strong sense of connection in this landscape, perhaps forged by past hardships. “This region was so poor from the dictatorship [Franco] until 1975,” Fer had said earlier. “Industrialisation never happened – it’s rich in nature, poor in money. Depopulation is a huge issue. Spain has a big problem with few jobs for young people in rural areas.”

Pepín is also the founder of La Ruta de Pepín, his own cultural, heritage and food tour around the village of Sirviella including a cider mill and his farm. At the Parador, with his dogs Max and Lupo, he showed us the art of shepherding on the grounds – in between the inevitable sheep selfie. Pepín was careful to emphasise, in Spanish, that this isn’t a ‘show’, but a sharing of pastoral traditions when families would own a small plot and livestock. Like Fer, Pepin too shared concerns over rural depopulation and that traditions may disappear.

His other passion is cider making, a common skill in these parts. “El cidro es todo,” Pepín told us. Cider is everything. “It’s love, culture, society, friendship, tradition, conversation. It’s everything. If I say, ‘let’s go for a cider’, it’s never just for one. Cider brings people together.”

Parador de Limpias is restored palace along the Ason River (Parador de Limpias)

He showed us how to drink it the Asturian way. Hold the glass at waist height and pour from above, arms straight, wrist bent, glass tilted. “Pour fast, and look at the glass, not the cider,” he laughed. He explained how when the liquid makes contact with the air, the oxygen creates the fizz; you drink it in small amounts, like large shots, then pour again. “La vida con cidra mucho mejor,” he said. Life with cider is so much better. He then produced a cheese platter of Asturian cheeses including Cabrales, his favourite, and Gamoneau – made in these mountains, smoked, and preserved in caves. It costs 50 euros a kilo and only five people make it.

This deeper interest in local heritage is noticeable in the neighbouring region of Cantabria. My base was at the Parador de Limpias, the restored Eguilior Palace on the Asón River around 50 kilometres east of Santander, and the summer residence for the Parador founder, King Alfonso XIII. From here, I headed to the Joyel salt marshes to meet Marco Perez Ansola. He had a personal interest in preserving the story around the tidal wave mill that still stands here. He’s young and perhaps not what you’d expect of a local historian. “For 20 years, construction has been destroying everything,” he said, “so the council decided to protect cultural and natural heritage including this mill.”

Marco explained how the mill worked, and where the water would enter and exit when the waves came in from the ocean across the marshes. The machinery would grind corn, its grains used to make flour, bread and more. “It was ingenious.” You could hear and see his pride. Marco has been working as a guide for 20 years, since he left school. He said school children often visit to learn about energy as well as history.

The author visited the tide mill at Joyel salt marshes (Alamy Stock Photo)

Hyper-local was a distinct theme here. The coastal town of Santoña is known for its 60+ anchovy factories and processing plants – our guide Pilar said around 90% of people who live here work in this industry in some way. All the fish is caught in the Cantabrian sea. Nerea Rodriguez Cabieces, the guide at one of the factories we toured, told us just how seriously they take their anchovy prep.

“We layer the fish in salt for six to eight months in barrels so the fish can ‘ripen’,” she said. “Then the packers take over and clean the fish.” Through an observation window, we can see them at work, deftly cutting the fish into fillets, and placing in jars or cans, or chopped and mixed into olive oil. “Nothing is wasted,” added Nerea. “Discarded parts are bought by a company for animal feed.”

In the gift shop, beautifully designed tins were available to buy; as a non-anchovy-eater, I bought one as an as-yet-unallocated gift. We walked on the seafront where anglers were optimistic for a good catch, and we breathed in the sea air of Cantabria. Back at the Parador, local specialities at dinner included Cantabrian cheeses, rice with lobster, local beef and, of course, anchovies.

The seafront and fortress in Santoña (Shutterstock)

Santoña is known for its anchovies (Shutterstock)

The ferry trip home offered a chance to process the trip we’d just taken, from the epic-ness of the Picos de Europa mountains to the young man committed to preserving a historic water mill. For those who have time (and don’t get terrible seasickness), it’s hard to beat the 33-hour sailing back to Portsmouth for slowing right down. It’s literally and figuratively the “scenic route” even if, at times, you get the impression everyone is ever-so-slightly tipsy, as we grab the rails to steady ourselves on the waves. Disclaimer: Lounge access (an optional extra) comes with wine on tap – literally, a tap that pours wine – so you can’t blame the motion of the ocean for everything.

This ship, the Santoña, is new for 2023 and along with two others, became the first ferries in UK waters fuelled by Liquefied Natural Gas (LNG) and next year sees two more LNG-electric hybrid vessels. “While not perfect, LNG is the cleanest fuel currently available to the marine sector,” Christopher Jones, communications manager at Brittany Ferries told me. There’s no getting away from the fact that LNG is still a fossil fuel, but it’s considered the ‘cleanest’ right now, producing 40% less carbon dioxide (CO₂) than coal and 30% less than oil. Being 85-95% methane, it also contains less carbon than other forms of fossil fuels. With a 2050 deadline set by the International Maritime Organisation for the marine sector to cut emissions in half, it is hoped LNG will help reduce carbon footprint, even if it’s by no stretch the perfect answer to global issues.

The ferry was far more interesting than a plane, and a dream for people-watchers. Half the fun was exploring the ship like some sort of theme park, from the artwork inspired by the Las Meninas painting in Madrid’s Prado museum to the orca information areas (in the summer, experts are on board and whale sightings common) to checking out the restaurants. A wrong turn between cabins and I heard a few squeaks before inhaling the distinct smell of ‘dog’ in the pets’ cabin corridor. In the bar, a group of colleagues brought along a toaster and were making crumpets.

I climbed upstairs and strolled the open deck. It was golden hour, and the outdoor gym with its 180-degree sea views from its machines and bikes looked inviting enough to try. As I pedalled away facing the Atlantic, I realised it was probably the fastest I’d moved in a week.

Parador de Cangas de Onis in Asturias (Paradores)

Brittany Ferries sails from Portsmouth to Santander (Andrew-Williamson/Brittany Ferries)

Brittany Ferries sails from Portsmouth to Santander twice a week in each direction, with fares starting from £360 each way for a car plus two people in an en-suite cabin. It also sails from Plymouth to Santander, Portsmouth to Bilbao, and Rosslare (Ireland) to Bilbao twice a week.