We started the day okay, though Number 3 had some accidents while we were packing up. The first time, when he screamed as if he was really hurt, we ran to him and couldn’t really figure out why he was screaming so much. It just lay on the ground on his belly as if he had tripped…just…one of his legs was oddly twisted and…oh no…his foot was still pointing towards the sky. *shudder*

It turns out he was playing with a traffic cone when his sandal got stuck on a nail. He couldn’t get it loose and then fell… Luckily, toddlers are tough (and flexible). Once we had freed him and comforted him for about two minutes, he went off exploring again on his own.

So the second time he screamed like he really hurt himself, we just sprinted to him straight away. This time though, he hadn’t hurt himself at all. He had figured out how to turn on the camp ground’s tap for drinking water. What he didn’t anticipate was that he would stand in a stream of icy cold water afterwards. He was so shocked that he didn’t even move out of the way. He just stood there and screamed getting soaked from head to toe. Flo snatched him out of there but we both had to laugh really hard. Probably not smart to encourage him as he managed to do the same thing one more time before we left. *sigh*

Today was a driving day. We had to cover some ground on our way back so our next goal, the Picos de Europa, were a bit of a stretch for one day, with a toddler in the car. Guess we’ll see how far we get towards them. In an attempt to make stops as unnecessary as possible, we picked up bread around the corner from the camp ground and started on the daytrip.

Though one stop was a must. About 30 min from our camp ground, the cliffs of Garita de Herbeira beckoned to be visited. The cliffs are the highest in Europe, about 600 meters from where we stood into the ocean. We were lucky. The day was a bit of a rainy one and we timed it just right to be at the cliff when there was a whole in the blanket of clouds. Thus, we could actually see something.

Galicia is uncannily similar to Ireland or Scotland: Weatherwise but they also kept parts of their celtic heritage, including bagpipes. So we were standing at the rugged cliff, wisps of cloud drifting past, more fog coming up the cliffside, watching horses and their young graze around a stone building…and could have been somewhere different entirely.

Lunch was had on a motorway stop right next to wind turbine parts on trucks. It was a bit odd but luckily, the motorway was almost empty. Most of the afternoon was spent driving. Number 3 slept for a good while but started to complain once he was awake. Anyhow, Flo pushed on and we arrived at the Picos de Europa late in the afternoon.

The mountains of the Picos are beautiful. Definitely worth spending more time there than we have left. A paradise for hiking and rock climbing…and much less crowded than the Alps. Just driving through the first range to our camp ground was breath-taking already.

Super tired, we set up, ate dinner and put Baby into bed. Ready to go to bed myself, Flo suddenly found some energy to check out the camp ground’s bar. He said it was cosy and inviting, had some Spanish ham and desserts on the menu and really, we just should have one drink there. Which we did. Well, I had cheese cake which was nothing like German cheesecake but this rich, silky, yoghurt-y cream, topped with blueberry jam. It was well worth staying up for.

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