The City of Gijon is the capital and main port of the province of Asturia. We arrived on the morning of Friday, the 18th July, after spending five nights on the anchor we were going to treat ourselves to a weekend in a marina. Then there was that reverse gear problem.
The marina staff were friendly and helpful, and had a mechanic down to me in the afternoon. Given that it was Friday in the height of the holiday season, I was impressed. However, having tried all the simple things it was clear that the gear box would have to come out, and that would have to wait until Monday. The news got worse on Monday, the clutch would have to be replaced, it would take until Friday for the part to arrive, and the price was one I couldn't help feeling was a tourist rate. There was nothing for it, I just hope these guys have the technical competence.
Still, like La Rochelle, Gijon is an interesting place. Our ability to explore was slightly limited by our lack of Spanish, but we spent some time listening to our Spanish tapes.
Gijon is also the capital of the Asturian cider pouring tradition. As best I understand it from my observations, you stand up and pour from the bottle, held in your right hand as high as you can stretch, into the glass in your left hand, held as low as you can stretch, all the while fixing your gaze into infinity in just about any direction except that of the bottle or glass.
You must only pour a small amount into the tumbler sized glass, about a wineglass measure, the glass must be tilted at about forty five degrees, making an even smaller target, and the practice appears to be that you flick out any dregs left in the glass before you pour. The pouring seems to be always done by the same person in a group, and while we have seen plenty of women do it proficiently, they only seem to pour when there are no men present.
We were first introduced to this process by Jorge, back in El Molina de Berange, near Algorta. Needless to say Jorge assumed the pouring role, and impressed us with his skill. He promised us that we would see much more in Gijon, he wasn't wrong.
On Saturday night, returning to the boat after a fine meal of squid, hake, langustines and cider; poured by the waiter traditional fashion, and by ourselves conventionally; we stopped in a busy Cideria near the harbour. “When in Rome ... ” I muttered as I positioned myself at the edge of the footpath, and poured half of the 70 cl bottle onto my sleeve or into the drain in the process of getting a little into our two glasses. I glanced around hoping no one had noticed, but my look was met by a young man nearby, there was no condescension or disdain in his expression, just pity!
The cider itself is much different to ciders I have tasted before. It has a bitter taste, about as much alcohol as a strong beer, and very drinkable.
Well, today, Thursday the part arrived. The mechanic will be back tomorrow to reinstall the gearbox, and with luck we'll be on our way to anchor in Puerta de San Esteban in the afternoon.
Copyright © Pat Egan, 2008, All rights reserved.
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