I did something wild: I did not walk for two days – well, more than 20km. After 18 straight days of putting one foot in front of the other like a wind-up toy with sore knees, I decided to skip the five-day mountain march from La Robla to Oviedo. I jumped into a rideshare, and just like that, I was whisked over what would have been 120km of grueling, knee-snapping elevation gains and descents in just two hours. Let me tell you, the views were stunning, but not nearly as stunning as the realization that I did not have to climb any of it.

I took two down days in Oviedo, well, one and a half. The first was a laundry-beer-cathedral kind of afternoon. After washing a small mountain of clothes, I wandered over for lunch, nursed a beer while watching life unfold in the plaza, and waited for the cathedral to open so I could get my sello. I do not know if it was the sun or the slow pace, but everything felt very Camino-zen.

The second day was more ambitious, in a tour-group kind of way. I booked an excursion to Covadonga and the lakes up in the northwest corner of the Picos de Europa. A funny moment of full-circle perspective: just days ago I was trudging through the other side of those very same mountains, wondering where my next water fountain was. Now I was gawking at the same peaks from a breezy van seat, thinking, “Dang, I really did walk through that.”

Oviedo surprised me. I knew I liked Bilbao, who would not, with its quirky blend of culture, history, and pintxos, but Oviedo is giving it a run for its money. Classy, clean, friendly, and the kind of city that makes you think, “Should I research real estate here?”

This morning, the Camino Primitivo began again. I remembered this trail fondly, and it turns out my memory was not rose-colored, it was accurate. Once you get out of the city, it is classic Primitivo: shady forests, rolling terrain, wide open countryside, and just the right amount of trail variation to keep your feet entertained.

The forecast had called for 87°F and sun, so I loaded up my hydration pack like I was a relation to a camel. But the Camino, in its infinite Camino-ness, gave me cool, refreshing fog until noon. Only the last hour was hot, and even then, I was shaded for most of it. Honestly, it felt like a small blessing.

What really threw me off was the crowd. I counted over 40 pilgrims on the trail today. That may be peanuts on the Camino Francés or Portuguese, but coming straight off the Lebaniego and Olvidado, where a busy day is seeing another human this felt like a parade. Not exactly Mardi Gras, but definitely “No Kings Day” levels of human presence, perspective in check.

Strangely, the albergue only had 10 pilgrims by 4 PM. There are 16 beds. That means a lot of folks are either pushing on another 10km or splurging on hotels. My guess is that the crowd will start to space itself out soon enough. Pilgrim physics, you know?

Anyway, today was a welcome return to the familiar. My legs were rested, the trail was gorgeous, and I am excited for what lies ahead.