Tomorrow we start the Camino Primativo, 15 days of walking roughly 300 kilometers across the northwest corner of Spain, much of it through the lush mountains of Asturias.
We arrived early this morning, well before the sun in Madrid. After killing a few hours at Chamartin train station we spent another 3 on a train to Oviedo, head bobbing in and out of sleep. Our agenda in Oviedo was simple, find the Air B&B, grab a bite to eat and pick up our credentials.
Amy suggested Alterna Sidreria, which was close to our lodging and very popular with the locals. The clock was ticking on the late afternoon kitchen closing of 4:30pm and we didn’t think we had it in us to wait until the reopening at 8pm. We got seated in the family area downstairs. I tried to look around for clues on what to order. One clue was obvious, everyone was drinking cidre and we would too. Attempting to sort through the cellar cidres on the menu was a mistake according to Pablo our server. Those would be too funky for us although I’m not sure how he knew that since we had just met. Pablo recommended cidre normal just like everyone else in the place. Normal it was! Except, there was nothing normal about it. The cidre comes in 70cl corked bottles and only Pablo is allowed to handle them. When not being poured from an extended arm high over Pablo’s head, the bottle rests on the table with a cork halfheartedly reinserted. The glasses are what I call big gulp highball but they only receive 2 fingers of highly aerated cidre.
Accompanying the cidre was a bountiful tray of local cheeses, meats and fish. The pairing was excellent if not somewhat erratic since we often just had empty glasses awaiting Pablos return and another round of his vertigo inducing refills.
After the cheese and cured meat course we took the traditional Asturian fabada bean soup. Thankfully it was a soup as the only spaces left in our stomachs were the few nooks and crannies not filled with bread, cheese, jamon, chorizo or cod. To complete the gluttony we share a piece of Asturian Cheesecake washed down with two of the smallest espressos ever dared to be served. As Pablo was taking a smoke break or perhaps doing his taxes we enquired to the table of young families behind us as to the current state of bill paying and the vagaries of spanish wait staff tipping. But of course tips are expected they ensured us. Expected tip percentages ranged between 5 and 10%. Ok, cool. We won’t make fools of ourselves when it comes to the tip, or so we thought.
By this time Pablo had returned from his sabbatical and it was going on 5pm. Tables were being cleared and reset for the late crowd. The only two tables left were us and the three Spanish women next to us. Pablo brought the check and the portable card reader to the table. Only there was still a problem. There was no place to add a tip to the credit card reader. Abbey picked up on this and asked Pablo directly about the tip. He said, only in cash. The tip cannot be know by the authorities and bean counters! Ok, fine but we don’t have any cash yet except good ole greenbacks carried freshly across the Atlantic. No problemo! Pablo was overjoyed receiving his crisp Andrew Jackson although I don’t think it will ever be spent. He said it was going on his wall with his other collected currency, which according to his account consisted of a bill from Canada. He proudly showed off his tip which struck up a conversation with the ladies next to us. After finding out where we were from and what we were doing here, we received some etiquette recommendations. Cidre is not sipped. It is thrown back like a shot. Cidre is not swirled in the glass. Just one tilt and down the hatch. Don’t order the fabada after the cheese tray. Fabada always come first. Even with all our mistakes and I’m sure all weren’t listed such as the sandwiches to go that we made from our selected meats and table bread which had been wrapped in napkins and smuggled into coat pockets for later, they loved us. They enjoyed dining next to us and they told us how special it was that we were here as a family walking a Camino together. They were so right. A lot had already happened and we haven’t even started. Now for some sleep.
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