And close to Llanes, past a lot of new construction, there’s La Posada de Babel, a cool, modernist compound made up of three angular buildings on a sloping green hill, owned and run by Lucas Cajiao, a wiry man from Colombia, and his wife, Blanca, from Madrid. When we went down for dinner one night, we found Lucas reading Doctor Faustus next to one of the two fireplaces in the book-lined living room. He opened a nice bottle of César Príncipe for us and disappeared into the kitchen. It was his chef’s day off, so he was pitching in. After he’d served the last course of our six-course meal—which included quail breast and veal cheeks—he sat down and decanted a 1995 Clos Martinet Priorat, and we talked for hours as if we were all old friends. Finally, we walked up to our room—with clean white lines and a glass cube for a sitting room—in a steady rain that had been falling all day.
“I’m going to come back here,” Gaby said as we retired. “Just to rest
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