How’s my ankle holding up? I can be pretty decent at wound care if I say so myself.
This is Day 0 — right after a 1500-lb bull stepped on it: 
Day 4:
We arrived in Gijón after a full day of driving and checked into our spots in the Las Arenas area, one Airbnb, one hotel, just across from Playa de San Lorenzo.
This is the kind of calm, relaxed place that lets you exhale a bit deeper. Especially knowing someone here, and not knowing, hearing or seeing nearly any English speaking tourists nearby:
Local Asturian Sofía Lanza and I first met when she volunteered as an interpreter at the finish line of the 2023 NYC Marathon.
Somehow, she now lives just a few doors down from where we ended up staying.
Things like that still surprise me—even when they shouldn’t.
After sleeping in a bit, we wandered out for coffee at Whatever Coffee & Bocados.
Eventually, the group trickled in. Yuhan made fast friends with the barista Stephanie possibly thanks to her One Piece shirt and seahorse cappuccino above. From there, we began exploring Gijón’s old soul stitched through its buildings and coastlines.
We began with Palacio de Revillagigedo, a 15th-century baroque palace, that watches over the harbor:
We then climbed up Parque Santa Catalina, a hillside with views that widen as you rise.
At the top: the kind of stillness that makes you forget time for a moment.
Parroquia San Pedro: a 15th-century church built atop Roman bath ruins.
Snuck in just before closing:
The Termas Romanas de Campo Valdés are small, free, and compelling. Not much signage in English, but the ruins speaks for itself.
We then wandered by the Culture Center Old Institute Jovellanos . . .
. . . and into the Ciudadela de Celestino Solar, where 19th-century workers’ housing still echoes stories. Free entry, no translations needed.
Passed the Basílica-Santuario del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús on the way to…
…an art deco break at the century-old Café Dindurra.
Back in Plaza Mayor, a few of us tried local cider for the first time while waiting for Sofía to join us.
After a few warm plesantries, she showed us a few areas of Gijón and then Escaleras del Rock: A quiet little tribute to rock music, painted on a public staircase.
She then had us relax near the harbor where we sipped cider facing the sea, just locals do this without ceremony:
Over cider we sketched out the rest of our route, from here to Ávila, then down to Algeciras, before splitting off for solo time.
Sofía and I caught up since our time at the marathon re-walking back up the Santa Catalina park talking about the time that had passed between us, the loss of our parents, our prior failed relationships, and the idea of future and destiny . . .
. . . before regrouping again for dinner at Restaurante Sidreria Tropical for their local Asturian cheese croquettes, vela fillets, and codfish pâté.
As we wrap up our time in Gijón, something about the quiet sincerity of this city sticks. It’s not just the history or the views, but how it made room for us, just as we were.
- At time of posting in Gijón, it was 18 °C - Humidity: 82% | Wind Speed: 11km/hr | Cloud Cover: a slight drizzle and melancholy
