Day three of the Camino Primitivo starts badly and gets better. One pilgrim's account of the stage into Tineo, in Asturias, northern Spain, is a handy reality check for anyone dreaming of Spain's original pilgrimage route — the quieter, hillier alternative to the French Way that runs from Oviedo toward Santiago de Compostela.
The day begins at 2 am, wide awake in an albergue bunk. After giving up on sleep, blogging, and finally nodding off at 4:30 am, our writer and her walking companion Preston are up again at 6 am, creeping out past a lift door loud enough to wake the whole dorm. Caffeine comes via vending machines — one of which swallows three euros first — before they hit the trail out of town at 6:30 in the dark.
What follows is classic Primitivo: a gradual climb to the hamlet of Las Espinas in the rain, salamanders on the path, snails everywhere (including one riding on a cow's back), and a cafe con leche with a prosciutto-and-cheese sandwich once the sun briefly breaks through to reveal distant mountains. There's a detour-worthy moment too — baby goats in a small fenced enclosure beside the trail, cute enough that the pair start planning a return visit to the farm.
Then comes the stage's most notorious obstacle: an enormous, permanent puddle that reportedly never dries up. Crossing it means balancing on rocks and fallen branches with both trekking poles planted — an awkward, slow business. Hard rain follows them all the way down into Tineo, where they check into a hotel, shower, and recover over a hot lunch while the weather clears.
The afternoon is pure small-town Spain: a grocery run to stock up for the demanding stretch toward Los Hospitales in two days' time, a sports shop where the writer finally buys the Camino Primitivo shirt she'd spotted in the window, and a visit to the town cathedral. There they collect a pilgrim stamp — and, in a comedy of errors, wander into the church itself despite it being closed, prompting a rapid-fire Spanish telling-off and a hasty exit as the door is locked behind them. Still, they get their stamp and a blessing for the road ahead, then round off the evening on a patio over dinner at 8 pm, chatting with Belgian and German pilgrims.
Why should this matter to a traveller? Because the Primitivo is exactly this mix: demanding weather and muddy obstacles, but also empty green hills, farm animals a metre from the trail, cheap pilgrim meals, and the small ritual of cathedral stamps that stitches each day together. If you want Santiago spirit without the crowds of the Camino Francés, this rougher, wetter route through Asturias delivers it — just pack poles for the puddles and don't expect to sleep past 6 am.
