It began with Portugal and ended in Asturias, Spain—this month that was mostly travel and a retreat. It was just a glimpse really of Portugal—two nights in Lisbon and two in Porto—but it was an enchanting glimpse.

What I especially love is that these cities, like many European cities, have no skyscrapers, which preserves their Old World charm. The buildings are lovely and historic, the stone streets quaint though at times treacherous, and the cafes and shops picturesque.

I didn’t have a plan, hadn’t studied up on the sights to see. With the short amount of time I had, I wasn’t going to rush from one monument or church to another. I was just going to stroll the hilly streets and wide plazas in Lisbon, board a bus or trolley to venture into other neighborhoods, breathe in the riverine atmosphere, let my eyes take in the elegance of the architecture, and run my fingers along centuries-old walls.

I did manage to see the Museu da Electricade, once a working thermoelectric power plant, and the Museu da Marioneta. The latter is housed in the former Convent of Bernadas, built in 1653. Not only does it represent part of the Portuguese tradition of theater and opera, it also includes puppet art and story traditions from around the world. Between those museum visits, I met with a writer friend whom I have long admired. We enjoyed a delicious and leisurely lunch in the café at the Museum of Art, Architecture, and Technology overlooking the Tagus River. Another highlight was a visit to Livraria Bertrand, which holds the Guinness World Record for oldest bookstore still in operation. It was a great place to settle in a comfy chair and read a newly purchased book.

It was an entirely different story at the famous bookstore in Porto. I didn’t think to check the website before heading to Livraria Lello, known for its spiral staircase, stained glass windows, and neo-gothic architecture. When I arrived, people were lined up, cordoned by ropes, with signs at intervals indicating the various times for ticketed entry. The bookstore was an amusement attraction with an admission fee! It did not at all seem conducive to casual browsing and plopping into a chair to read for five or ten or fifteen minutes. I gave it a pass. There was plenty else to see by just walking and popping into little shops along the way. And of course, there was the ribeira, the riverwalk along the Douro which is crossed by six bridges, the most iconic of which is the Dom Luis 1, designed by an engineering associate of that Eiffel guy. You can walk across the top of the bridge for dramatic views of the river below and the colorful buildings that line it or you can get a closer look by crossing the lower level of the bridge. Stroll the riverfront in the early morning hours for a quiet connection with the river or the evening hours for a crowd-and-music-filled experience.

Next stop was Pontevedra in the north of Spain in the comunidad autónoma of Galicia. Spain is divided into seventeen comunidades, each with its own executive, legislative, and judicial powers. I live in the comunidad autónoma of Andalucia in the south. In Galicia, aside from Spanish, the other official language is Galician, which has Celtic origins. Compared to the bustle of Lisbon and Porto, Pontevedra, known for its well-preserved historic center, was a nice change with its smaller size and fewer tourists. Also different was the sound of bagpipes that was a common accompaniment to the evening paseo.

The writer Valle-Inclan, part of Spain’s Generation of ’98, lived for a time in Pontevedra and I walked past his former residence there. I spent a day visiting the various bookstores and stopping in cafes to read a book by a Galician, specifically from Sanxenxo where a day trip to the beach sent my melanin levels into overdrive. A day trip to Combarro, a fishing village known for its stone hórreos for storing grain or fish, and its granite crosses, offered up its history of witchcraft in every shop window. Apparently, the crosses were a popular gathering place for the witches back in the day.

The last stop on the trip was Asturias, the neighboring comunidad to Galicia. Its capital, Oviedo, was the pick-up point for the drive to the writing/hiking retreat in Faedo, population 147. But before that was a visit to the coastal city of Gijón to see friends whom I had met in Málaga. Recently they opted for the cooler climate of northern Spain which with its frequent rain resembles the Pacific Northwest where they had lived previously. It was the best beach day of the trip. No unrelenting sun, no hot sand to burn your soles. A pleasantly warm day with a refreshing breeze and a chance to catch up with two kind and generous-spirited people.

Back in Oviedo, writers gathered for the van ride to Fuentes de Lucia, the beautiful rural hotel in the mountains that offers retreats and workshops. Or space to organize your own, which is what Seattle writer Maria Victoria did so members of the writing group Seattle Escribe could have an idyllic space in which to speak and write in their native Spanish. Early in the planning process, Maria invited me to sign up. Writing, hiking, and a built-in Spanish-language immersion experience. What more could I ask for? Well, better fluency in Spanish on my part, for one. Introvert here. I’m not a highly talkative person in English when in a group and decidedly less so in Spanish. Many times, I felt like a well-behaved child, speaking only when spoken to, but I allowed myself to occupy without shame (okay, a little bit of mortification) the limbo of intermediate fluency. There were some individuals whose Spanish I understood well. There were others whose Spanish made my head spin. But everyone was incredibly kind, and I had some nice one-on-one conversations on the hikes.

The daily guided hikes were optional but also irresistible. I soon realized that the hikes, which were not just about hiking but about learning the culture, history, and myths of the region from a knowledgeable and congenial guide, would be taking up nearly the whole day since they included a picnic in the woods or lunch in a village restaurant, leaving just a few hours to write before dinner. I decided to shift my mindset to consider the week a hiking experience first and a writing retreat second. The final chapters of my novel in progress could wait. So the bulk of each day was devoted to such things as noticing the trees in the forest—the castaña, tejo, roble, and arce; hearing about the role the mills played in community life; and distinguishing between un hórreo and una panera, both used as granaries but differing in shape and capacity. After the hike, there were three or four hours for writing (or napping) before dinner. Each evening, we sat down for a delicious meal served up by hosts/chefs, Judy and Juan Carlos. My favorite dish was the unforgettable sopa de ajo, a robust, bold, beautifully textured soup with a burst of flavor in the back of the throat. If you want to experience hiking in Asturias and amazing meals at Fuentes de Lucia, check out Spanish Steps.

I came home to Málaga on the second day of Feria, that colorful, festive, and very loud weeklong celebration featuring the very sweet, pink-labeled Cartojal wine. I live in a happy place.