Asturias is a place of mossy silence and ocean light, where mountains rise suddenly from the sea. The culture and landscape of the region are deeply intertwined – its ancient rivers are still used to chill bottles of the famed local cider on warm summer days.
For much of the world, Asturias remains a mystery, but in the Spanish imagination it is very much alive. Traces of the region’s Celtic heritage echo in its traditions, music and mythology, giving it a distinctive identity. The northern kingdom of Asturias was the only part of what is now Spain to successfully resist the eighth-century Muslim conquest. In 1934, miners here staged an uprising that was crushed in a brutal crackdown that foreshadowed Franco’s dictatorship. Today, the region is cherished as a milder refuge on a peninsula scorched by the climate crisis: one recent poll found that Spaniards consider Asturias the most beloved part of their country.
But the rest of the world is catching up. Last spring, a high-speed rail line opened, connecting the major cities of Oviedo and Gijón to Madrid in about three hours. Its small airport, which had no international flight routes in 2018, now has 12. The spectre of overtourism looms. While not yet as significant a problem as in other parts of Spain, Airbnb is rapidly colonising homes here. Gijón and Oviedo saw the sharpest rise in holiday rentals anywhere in Spain from 2023 to 2024 – an 85.5% and 56.4% increase, respectively, according to the tourism association Exceltur.
But another long-awaited development – the recent inscription of Asturian cider culture into Unesco’s intangible cultural heritage list – suggests a way for visitors to connect with the region that encompasses sustainability, gastronomy, landscape and culture. Asturian cider (sidra) is a far cry from ciders made elsewhere. The experience of drinking sidra is as intense as its sharp flavour. It is poured from a bottle held high above the head, cascading into a tilted glass held at waist level. The golden stream must be consumed immediately – chugged in a swift motion before the aerated molecules lose their effervescence. Tradition dictated leaving a splash at the bottom to be flung on the floor – a rustic form of disinfection before sharing the glass.
“Although we have records of cider dating back 1,000 years, the culture around it is very much alive, so practices are always adapting,” says Luis Benito García Álvarez, history professor and Asturias cider chair at the University of Oviedo.
García Álvarez, who spearheaded the drive to get Asturian cider on the Unesco list, explains that, like many of the world’s great culinary traditions, it flourished out of necessity. While other apple‑producing regions of Spain also have the tipple, geography isolated Asturias from the vineyards of Rioja or Ribera del Duero, and the plains used to grow grain for beer. Beer and wine were expensive, and cider thrived in their place.
“It’s a luxury product at working-class prices,” says García Álvarez. All the cider producers in Asturias are family-owned, some tracing their lineage back eight generations. The Asturian cider label comes with strict requirements: only local varieties of apples and specific, mostly traditional, methods are acceptable. The product is extremely sustainable, and even the glass bottles are reused – some still used today in sidrerías (traditional cider restaurants) have been in circulation for more than 50 years. The whole process is artisanal, and yet a bottle in a restaurant only costs around €3 or €4.
Perhaps there is no better place to learn about Asturian cider than the area that’s been given the English name of Cider Shire, less than an hour’s drive from Oviedo or Gijón, If the name conjures Tolkienesque images of merry hobbits living simple lives amid bucolic landscapes, that is not far from the truth. Cider Shire’s six boroughs unfold across mountain peaks, lush valleys and pristine beaches.
It has a population of just 28,000, but every road and trail seems to lead to a discovery, such as a cave in Narzana where mass is held in summer, a laid-back market brimming with hippy expats in Santolaya, or a river dotted with centuries-old watermills in Bimenes. In spring, you can roll down your car windows to drink in the scent of blossoms. A vast network of hiking trails allows you to explore at a slower pace.
Asturias’s fishing villages are the stuff of fairytales. As a resident of Oviedo, I consider Tazones my happy place. No day compares to one spent strolling along the tranquil Villaviciosa estuary, flanked by eucalyptus trees and the wild Atlantic, before heading to the fishing village for a long seafood lunch. Its main thoroughfare is lined with exquisite sidrerías, and if I can I choose the ones with sea views.
Cider pairs exquisitely with fresh seafood, including seasonal specialities such as sea urchins and percebes (goose barnacles). It is also divine with charcuterie, including jamón ibérico, its beef alternative cecina de León, and one of Asturias’s 40 varieties of cheese, the explosive blue cabrales. Earthy stews – fabada or pote asturiano – or the oozing cachopo schnitzel, also complement cider admirably. But be warned: consuming the immense portions that are served can leave you feeling just as hungover as the cider itself. In a welcome development, nonalcoholic cider has also hit the market. It can be found at the odd chigre (the Asturian name for a sidrería).
Lastres, another coastal gem farther east, is a place of steep hills and staggering views. Every turn of its medieval streets offers a fresh glimpse of the cosy bay. With restaurants such as Casa Eutimio, La Botica and La Rula serving the freshest of fish, you may also want to try a glass of albariño – a light white wine from neighbouring Galicia. Nearby, you also have some of Cider Shire’s finest beaches, Playa la Griega and Playa de la Isla.
The mountain peaks of Cider Shire offer sweeping panoramas, while its inland towns hold a quiet authenticity. Among them, Torazu stands out. This beautiful village is a place of hórreos – elegant, elevated wooden granaries – and traditional homes painted in bright colours. But Torazu also offers a touch of luxury: a four-star hotel with a spa and, nearby, two remarkable restaurants. Los Llaureles serves tasting menus that reimagine local flavours, while Amada Carlota, a Japanese restaurant with mountain views, somehow feels right at home.
The two largest towns, Nava and Villaviciosa, are steeped in fascinating, cider-infused history, and have some of the area’s best traditional restaurants. In Nava’s historic quarter, barrels and signs proclaiming its connection to cider are impossible to miss. It’s home to the Cider Museum and Plaza, one of the most highly recommended chigres. It serves up the smooth Prau Monga produced by Viuda de Angelón, one of many cider manufacturers offering guided tours and tastings (in English on request).
Cider is a social drink that should ideally be consumed within a year, so it is never hoarded and is often shared at espichas, raucous gatherings where food is abundant and barrels are tapped to celebrate anything from a wedding to simply the cider itself.
“In Asturias, people are known for their hospitality and inclusiveness, and cider goes along with that,” says García Álvarez. “Maybe strangers won’t offer you a glass of wine, but they’re quick to offer a culín [a glass of cider].”
Ever since he was a child playing in his family’s apple orchards in Villaviciosa, cider has been close to his heart. “I became interested in cider through my family. My father was a miner but was always passionate about rural life,” he says. “We had a lot of apple trees and his dream was always to produce cider at an industrial scale. But he died in an accident when he was 36.”
The professor has weaved his love for cider into his academic life, writing a thesis on its cultural history and spending 20 years making sure his father’s drink gained the recognition it deserves.
Now, thanks to Unesco, researchers will have more funding to delve deeper, exploring the drink’s probiotic potential (watch out, kombucha), tracing its history and studying how those who drink it connect with Asturian culture and the landscape that sustains it – hopefully for many more generations to come.
