Llanes, Asturias, Spain
Jim Mottram revisits this town on the north coast of Spain and discovers a cove in which to anchor
My first visit to the harbour at Llanes was a surprising experience. Coming in from seaward, there appeared to be a line of colourful English beach huts where I had expected the entrance to be. As I got nearer I saw that these were the huge concrete armouring blocks protecting the breakwater, which had been painted in bright, varied colours with striking designs. This was the work of the Basque artist Augustin Ibarolla who had painted them a few years before, naming his creation The Cubes of Memory.
Eight years later I still found these an amazing sight and not faded as much as I had expected.
I passed up the harbour with mixed feelings. Delightful as the town is, I had bad memories of my last visit when I had no alternative but to lie alongside in the high-walled, smelly fish dock.
Now I found that the long, narrow harbour had been dredged with a marina at its head, but discovered it full of small local craft with no room for visitors.
I gave up on stopping here so decided to find an anchorage instead. Just past the lighthouse I spotted a small cove, embraced by two massive undercut cliffs. I edged in and, although the tidal range was at its greatest, I was able to just pass between these and anchor in sufficient depth with the sandy bottom clearly visible.
It was oppressively hot and the two small beaches were crowded with many people bathing and swimming around the boat, while youths were making terrifying jumps from the top of the highest cliff, which towered above the boat.
The evening was beautiful but I was not sorry when the sun sank behind the land and temperatures returned back to normal.
Next morning, I moved further inshore to make for a shorter row and landed on the beach. Here I discovered that this lovely cove was called Puerto Chico and wondered if it had been used by fishermen before the harbour was built.
I climbed the path to the lighthouse with its fine panorama of the coloured cubes on the breakwater before continuing up the harbour to the bridge where the stream emptied into the sea. This was the heart of the town with stalls and restaurants and a lively atmosphere. In the main street were some architecturally beautiful buildings, originally built by returning emigrants who had made their fortunes abroad.
On the western headland was the old town with its drab, ancient buildings and square, but the purple bougainvillea on the outside of the Basilica gave a welcome touch of colour to the scene.
Sadly, I could not linger long as the tide was falling. When I got back, Reservation was not far from grounding and bathers were standing quite close. I was soon ready to leave and motored out across a smooth, sullen sea. I was so pleased that I had found this peaceful cove to once again enjoy Llanes.
‘I anchored in sufficient depth with the sandy bottom clearly visible’