Alas, we awoke to a cloudy, rainy day in the Picos so decided on a hearty walk along a valley fortified by an extremely large breakfast. We set off under the illusion it was a 3.5 hour walk there and back (life would be so much easier here if we understood Spanish - or had bought a decent map). Up the valley we went - and up, and up and up - eventually arriving at Pido, a small v. pretty village, but with no bar to slake our thirst and it had taken us 3 hours. We took the easy way home and came back following the road. En route to Pido we had our second terrifying experience of the trip so far (the first being the cruising chute incident) when we heard distant goatherd bells. As we got closer we heard barking as well, when we rounded the corner there were two extremely large dogs guarding the goats and they were not pleased to see us. I honestly thought we were going to be ripped to shreds. Rich remained extremely calm as I firmly hid behind him “nice doggy, good boy, there, there......” My mind was racing - could they smell my fear, if they go for Rich all I can do is grab a rock and try and thwack them on the head - Rich meanwhile was thinking he would fend them off with the rucksack........ Anyway this was a good reason for coming back a different route as there is no way I would have faced them again. So with 20km under our feet today we are now in Potes, the hub of the Picos and about to do some evening perambulation round the old town and the touristy shops before finding a restaurant that serves the local speciality of a very hearty bean and meat stew.
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