For the past 20 years, the Tourism Bureau of Galicia has sponsored a deal called Outono Gastronómico to promote tourism outside of the summer months. For 165€ for two people, you get lodging in a countryside bed and breakfast, an autumnal meal, and breakfast. It's not much of a deal for most bed and breakfasts whose nightly rate is less than 70€. But you can get the most bang for your buck by checking out the pricier accommodations. And that is how we ended up in Galicia's Downton Abbey. Because if it weren't for the Outono Gastronómico, the 150€ per night would certainly be out of our price range.
Pazo de Brandeso, Galicia's Downton Abbey
Pazo de Brandeso was founded in 1620, not far from the town of Arzúa, which is a stop on the Camiño de Santiago. Around 20 years ago, after its most recent remodeling, it was made into a Bed and Breakfast and Country Club (the title is Country Club in English, although it would seem that they don't fully understand the concept and chose it to sound preppy).
As we pulled in, after being awed by the grandiose, ivy-covered manor house, our attention was drawn to the fact that they only had a Spanish flag out front, whereas the norm would be both Spanish and Galician flags. Weird. Inside, there wasn't a soul. We rang an old bell like aristocrats sending for servants. It felt wrong, though, disturbing the peace. Once the hotel receptionist got us checked in and gave us our enormous key, she accompanied us up the grand staircase to our room. Wow! I felt like Mary Crawford of Downton Abbey retiring to her chambers to write some correspondence. The door didn't open directly to the room, but a sort of antechamber which in turn led to the ornately decorated bathroom as well as the bedroom. The walls were covered with a deep green, padded wallpaper, increasing the English manor vibes. Aside from the fluffy king-size bed, there was also a hardwood desk, a fireplace (unusable), and a leather couch (shall we call it a settee or davenport in this context?). The bathroom seemed like another set design: red plaid wallpapering and towels embroidered B for Brandeso.
Stately décor in our room
After settling in, we opted to explore the grounds. The pazo has several common areas aside from the dining room. On the upper floor a windowed hallway with tons of seats. And a lion skin on the wall! Downstairs is the library, scattered with family pictures, books, and a crocodile skin on the wall! In the adjoining sitting room, at one end a small fire slowly burned in the fireplace. Throughout the room were books, tables, couches, and zebra skins on the ground! Also, encased in the corners: stuffed wood grouse. The amount of dead animals in that place was unsettling to say the least. I guess it goes hand-in-hand with old manors and lords. But at this point, those couldn't be legal. On the walls of another building, skull after skull of some horned African species, all with the name of country and date of hunting. It gave me the heebie-jeebies.
Poor crocodile!
The hunting theme continued in the dining room with large paintings of game, among other foods. Again, at one end there was a fireplace, this time with a fire roaring. Seeing as in winter we always dine fireside at home, on this occasion we let the city-folk cozy up to it. Our dinner included in the Pazo's Outono Gastronómico was elaborate and very seasonal. There were two options, so we ordered one of each. The main course was duck or cod with mashed potatoes. A simple dessert finished off the meal: a piece of Santiago (almond) cake and a scoop of ice cream or slices of local Arzúa-Ulloa cheese with quince jelly.
After our meal, we retired to our quarters for the modern comforts of channel surfing and dozing off in a comfy bed like the lord and lady of the house.
Despite the fact that fall weather in Galicia can deter most travelers, my cousin really lucked out on her recent two-week visit. She was welcomed with warm weather and sunny days, narrowly missing the rain that is all around in a fall that is finally underway. The only day it did drizzle was the one day we had set aside to experience a quintessential autumn activity here: collecting chestnuts and later roasting them on an open fire. But we braved the scattered raindrops for the sake of Galician fun!
Speaking of Galician fun, her visit coincided with Galicia's best fall festival: San Froilán. Night after night of concerts, rides, and crowds! While the rides were open for three weekends, San Froilán itself began on Saturday and ended on the following Sunday with the traditional Domingo das Mozas.
Friday we went out to eat at a poke bowl restaurant, for the most part avoiding the pre-celebrations. Saturday night we jammed to the good-time Mekanika Rolling Band and then found ourselves at Dakidarria's lively Galician concert (made even better by them posting their lyrics onscreen). We then traipsed through the packed streets until the wee hours. Sunday evening we attended two very different but quality concerts: Xoel López, a Galician singer whose show surprised me for its energy (I had been expecting a boring solo singer, but he had a full band-- all clad in colored suits--including two guys posed like backup singers of yore) and Biznaga, a young punk band that my cousin had just seen in Barcelona before coming to town. After the concerts, we danced a bit around Festicultores Troupe, a roving band that is a mainstay in Galician festivals. I was a bit disappointed though, since they hardly played any fun covers like the used to. Assumedly the songs that night were from their own repertoire.
During the week, the concerts didn't stop, but we didn't meet up as often seeing as, sadly, work goes on. We did catch a little bit of Uxía, a classic Galician folk singer celebrating 40 years on stage. Our grand night out was supposed to be Saturday, so I wasn't planning on heading into town on Friday. But the allure of the orquestas is too strong to resist! I wanted my cousin to experience some good old Galician fun and we couldn't have chosen a better band! Arizona is a non-reggaeton-playing group. Their singers were dressed casually, not the norm of scantily-clad women and suited men. A lot of the songs were in Spanish, so probably not as fun for my cousin. But they also played some international hits like Proud Mary. We had been grooving for 2 hours when we had to call it quits and save ourselves for the following day.
Saturday a group of us went out to eat in the Recatelo neighborhood, a once forgotten area between the Parque de Rosalía (where all the fair rides and attractions are set up) and the Roman Wall, specifically the cathedral where there is a concert stage set up for the festival. Prime real estate! During San Froilán, the typical dish is octopus, but since our guests don't eat seafood, we had a more ¨normal¨ meal. Lunch was slow to appear, even by Spanish standards. The restaurant was evidently overwhelmed by San Froilán reservations. Afterwards, most of the party walked around the fairgrounds while I snuck away to take a nap. In the evening, trying to find something to eat was an uphill battle. Should have known! We ended up grabbing the last racións available at a bar after having scoured for tapas. Shortly after our late dinner, my cousin and I parted ways. She had a big journey ahead!
We were able to squeeze in a goodbye coffee in the main square on Sunday. There we got a glimpse of some traditional dress from different parts of Galicia, in celebration of Domingo das Mozas. And with that, until next time! Or as the most hospitable Galician will say, ata cando queiras. Y'all come back now, ya hear?
Burs and crushed chestnuts litter the road every so often under the towering chestnut trees. Chestnuts also begin to appear at markets.
We've fired up the chimney more than once; to heat up the house and to roast some freshly-gathered chestnuts, too.
Can you spot the early bloomer?
The pumpkin patches are replete with yellowish-orange-green gourds. (Here the pumpkin patches you may drive by aren't used as family photo ops before Halloween. Their use is much more practical: all of those huge pumpkins will be fed to the pigs in due time.)
We've put the flannel sheets and thick blankets on the bed as the nighttime temperatures drop.
The first Camelia flower has blossomed, a winter-blooming tree.
And yet, and yet. The highs are still in the upper 70s (Fahrenheit, 25ºC). In the early afternoon you can get away without long sleeves of any kind. Our garden is still producing vegetables known for their need for sunshine: tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants.
According to the calendar, winter is coming, but so far we haven't had even a taste of it (except for cooler nights). Apparently though, the Galician fall we all know and love is right around the corner. For the next few weeks the forecast is rain, rain, and more rain with temperatures apt for this time of year.
Aside from winter, also coming is a recap of Cousin Fun in San Froilán, so stay tuned!
What to do in a beach town when the weather just does not cooperate? Hop in the car and do some sightseeing! And that's precisely what we did one summer Saturday when ONCE AGAIN it was cloudy and looked like it was going to rain on our beach weekend. It's a risk you take in Galicia. Especially in the upper regions rather than the Rías Baixas.
The Windmill of Boucelo
Relatively ¨young¨ as far as the Old Continent is concerned, this windmill dates to 1840. Apparently there used to be over 100 windmills in Galicia, but now they are few and far between. This one in particular is in decent condition, about 20 feet high an 10 in diameter. Can you believe the walls are about a yard thick?! Holy cow!
The Church of St. Michael of Breamo
This Romanesque church is all that remains of a Benedictine monastery built nearly a thousand ago. Love me some románica architecture! Nowadays the small church is famous for its romarías. (I really need to thoroughly explain Galician festival vocabulary some day). Twice a year people make the hike up the hill to the church, stopping repeatedly to catch their breath and probably take a swig of something potent. Behind the church are some picnic tables and stone grills used only on these days.
I (sort of) hope to be able to update this post in the future with two more architectural treasures in the area: the Castle of Andrade and the Pazo of Mariñán. They are definitely on my list, but going to them means that it will have been another dreary day at the beach.
Last month the local and national news barely talked about anything else. Galicia was on fire, along with neighboring Castilla y León. This summer, the biggest wildfires on record in Galicia engulfed the land. Dozens of forest fires burned rampant, mostly in nearly-vacant southern Ourense. In August alone 270,000 acres burned in Galicia. And these official estimates provided by the Galician government are perhaps exceedingly optimistic, as Coppernicus (the EU's observation of Earth) calculates a number closer to 341,000 acres. That's half the state of Rhode Island! When you put it that way, it doesn't sound very big seeing as Rhode Island is such a tiny state. But imagine all of that ablaze and destroyed for years to come. Alarming!
Uncontrolled wildfires leave a trail of helplessness and destruction. I can only imagine what it's like to see your house threatened by mile-high flames. In addition to helplessness, rage. The wildfires have many causes, the most unthinkable being thoughtless people who intentionally start them themselves, either pyromaniacs or people who think it's easier to burn the brush than clean it up with machinery. Rural abandonment doesn't help, either. With the countryside ¨emptied out¨ in some places, highly flammable brush plus the thousands of Eucalyptus trees planted far and wide to make a buck make the land a matchbox. Call it an indirect result of Galician policy. There are direct political causes, too. As this is a recurring problem in Galicia, there are protocols to prepare for wildfire season. The Galician government (known as the Xunta) dropped the ball on this one. One example: vacant public positions were left unfilled so that in the middle of the chaos caused by the flames, the Xunta desperately sought to hire 300 forest fire fighters. Too little, too late.
Luckily the end of August brought a drop in temperatures and that typical Galician rain. The good news is all of the wildfires have been put out. The bad news is, as they are no longer making headlines, soon they will be forgotten. No changes will be made nor blame accepted until next year's wildfire season. Here's hoping I'm wrong on that.
The Maruxaina is a legendary mermaid that lives in a cave on the Farallóns Islands, off the coast of San Ciprián/San Cibrao. As the story goes, she blows into her shell with either good or bad intentions, depending who you ask. Is she blowing to warn the sailors of upcoming storms, telling them to stay ashore? Or is her siren song meant to lure the sailors to her cave where they will never be heard from again? The trial of the Maruxaina seeks to get to the bottom of this.
The Maruxaina Festival is a weekend-long affair in this coastal town of A Mariña Lucense (province of Lugo), culminating in the mermaid's trial. While Saturday is without a doubt the main day, the party gets started on Thursday night. And it goes late, every night. Believe me, I know. Coincidentally, we went camping just a short walk away from the main stage that weekend, and heard music booming til the wee hours, three nights in a row.
On Thursday night, a roving band we had just seen a few weeks earlier got people in a merry mood, on this occasion staying put in the main square. They even have a song called Maruxaina which they taught to the small crowd gathered around them. The music video represents the Saturday festivities well, so take a look:
The chorus has been stuck in my head ever since. It goes:
Maruxaina, deusa do mar Maruxaina, goddess of the sea Protexe aos mariñeiros entre algas e coral Protect the sailors between the coral and algae Maruxaina, vante xulgarMaruxaina, you'll be on trial Queimade augardente e bailade ata fartarBurn the moonshine and dance until you drop
The pre-festivities continued on Friday evening with Cantos de Taberna. As we were camping, we weren't planning on going back into town, but rather decided to eat out far from the center of the action. Lo and behold, two small groups singing traditional Galician songs made it to our restaurant, so we had charming background music to accompany our meal. We turned in early, but once again, the celebration was audible until 4 AM.
Finally, Saturday: the main day. As we were having breakfast in town, I noticed all the bars and cafés had huge bars set up outside in preparation for the swarms of expected festivalgoers. And the waiter even warned us: it may be family friendly in the morning, but after 5PM kids shouldn't really be around. I can see why. Around noon the party starts. Multiple charanga bands prance around the streets. Groups of teenagers and young adults congregate in and around the bars and beach. The typical is for ¨young people¨ to share a wagon or cart with friends, stocked up with food and booze. They move as a massive pack around town, sometimes following the bands, sometimes providing their own tunes on a loud speaker. Rather than roam around, the ¨old people¨ gather for lunch on the beach. The town council provides boards that can be used as tables for beach picnics.
So tons of people drinking from noon onwards, what do you expect? While the Maruxaina may have started as a quaint festival to recognize local lore, in its 40th edition it was essentially an excuse for debauchery.
I popped in around 8 PM to see what the vibe was like. In some places it was so crowded with stumbling youth that you could barely get through. 95% of them were wearing the costume, I'll give them that. Typical coastal gear which for men includes a white shirt, blue pants, and a blue and white plaid kerchief. For women it entails a white top, a black and white patterned skirt, a black and white kerchief, and sometimes a shawl.
Before her trial
At 11PM the real action starts. And I got there just in time for them to drag Maruxaina out of the sea. A dozen ¨sailors¨ carry her ashore on a platform. The group was accompanied by about 20 people, including one older sailor shooting off red lights so that they could see where they were going. As she got closer, members of the crowd yelled, ¨Maruxaina!¨ ¨Fire!¨ ¨Witch!¨ Despite the throngs of onlookers, I actually got quite close to the action. Once fully ashore, it's time for the trial. At this point, I could no longer see the mermaid, but the audio was played loud enough to be heard by all in the vicinity. I'm not sure if it was recorded or was being played out in the moment. Some women accused her of being a witch and stealing away their sailor husbands. A wise old man argued that with her sounds she was warning of treacherous waters. After a little back and forth, it was decided. Maruxaina was innocent! There would be no burning at the stake that night. Show's over. You can go home.
I was probably the only one there who did just that. Back to my tent I went. Meanwhile, the party continued, 12 hours after beginning. Two fun orquestas sang and danced until.... SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Believe me, I know. I could hear it from my tent.
