Rural Ourense

On a long weekend at the beginning of May, we decided to go away to explore some towns in southwest Ourense and stay at a casa rural. The drizzle held off for the most part, allowing us to walk around quite a bit, but the dampness prevented us from going full-on hiking.

Ceiling, San Rosendo

Inner doors, San Rosendo

Celanova
Our first stop on Saturday was Celanova. Being a small town, there aren't a million things to do there. But keeping in mind the scant population (less than 6,000), the church of San Rosendo is shockingly grandiose and ornate. The gold-painted inner doors paired with a very detailed sculpted ceiling make it seem more like a basilica for a big metropolis. The church is connected to a large former Benedictine monastery, dating back to the 900s. Nowadays, the cloister is open to meander, and the rest of the building is used for a high school and other public purposes. Can you imagine going to school in a building over 1000 years old?! 

 

 

Where's my accordion when I need it?

Vilar de Santos
Just a village, the main reason we went here was to get some dinner, as the casa rural didn't offer meals, and this village was the only thing less than 20 minutes away. There is a tavern there which only opens on weekends, but really does wonders for the surrounding area culturally. They host concerts every day of the weekend, and offer a place to socialize in a rural area where bars and cafes are scarce. The night we went, there was an accordion duet. The guys were fun and into it, one of them sometimes switching the accordion out for other instruments. It turns out, in addition to having written a book about accordionists in the region, they were also the instructors of a weekend-long accordion course. Their students were eager to practice what they had learned, so suddenly we were surrounded by dozens of accordion players! It was surreal. Like an accordion flashmob!


Congostro
How I happened upon this ethnographic town I don't even recall, but it was worth the stop. There wasn't even a bar in this village, that's how small it was. There did seem to be a family of locals out and about, but aside from that, the narrow lanes were deserted. Apparently there is a little route describing characteristic buildings of a typical Galician village. I was only able to find the info about the Galician home (animals sleeping downstairs, family life taking place upstairs) and the communal oven (whereas houses in the countryside each have their own bread oven, in the village they pitched in to build a communal one). The other highlight of this village is the square full of hórreos. 

 

A conglomeration of hórreos

Allariz
We kind of ran out of things to see, so added Allariz to the list. I had already been, but revisiting a pretty place boasting narrow, hilly streets and a tranquil riverside was fine by me. So Sunday morning we headed out to this Medieval, pedestrian town. In addition to rambling around, the small toy museum kept us entertained for about a half an hour. Then we snagged a table for lunch outdoors with river views at the old tannery. In the Middle Ages, Allariz was once known for its leathermaking. Now the stone-floored building on the banks of the Arnoia River has been turned into a museum/restaurant. Inside, watch your step because after hundreds of years, the floor is anything but flat. Our experience was lovely and very enxebre! The food was tasty and the place packed, probably because it's a classy place to take your mom on Mother's Day. The meal rounded off a calm weekend in rural Ourense.

 

Wysteria and hórreo, Allariz

Silleda and Surroundings

For Galicians, the town Silleda likely brings to mind two things: the oposicións-- the various exams taken en masse to obtain a government job-- or the annual mega-fair of farm products and more. This fall I went for the first reason, accompanying a test taker. When I was there, I was impressed by the facilities used for both the exams and the fair. In my opinion, it seemed more like a City of Culture than the modern buildings built at the beginning of this century on the outskirts of Santiago de Compostela and dubbed the Cidade de Cultura. The facilities in Silleda are unexpectedly massive. It makes sense though, since sometimes over a thousand people take a test at once. Aside from the huge buildings and lots of steps, there is green space crisscrossed by sidewalks with columns that are so reminiscent of a typical American college campus. I would be interested to see the place during the annual fair, brimming with all kinds of vendors and products. 

Since the exam takes up to three hours, I had plenty of time to not just go back to sleep, but also to do some exploring on my own. And now that I can drive, I wasn't limited Silleda's small town center. A 10-minute drive away is a Medieval monastery nestled in the hillside. The grand Mosteiro de Carboeiro seemed fit for Brother Cadfael. I later learned it was more likely fit for the criminals he caught, as it was later turned into a sort of monk prison. Not a prison with shackles and cells as we might imagine, but merely being isolated in the middle of nowhere was considered punishment enough for ¨bad monks.¨ It was definitely a downgrade from the luxurious life in big city monasteries such as Compostela. 

The monastery and church were eventually abandoned. While the reason was monetary, a legend cropped up related to the Ponte do Demo (the devil's bridge), a Medieval bridge crossing the river just below the monastery. The legend says that while building the monastery, the monks were sick of hardships so they made a deal with the devil. He would build them the monastery in a matter of days in exchange for all the souls that died on that Sunday. After his work was done, instead of the promised souls, the abbot went after the devil with his secret weapon, the Book of Psalms. The devil was infuriated and ashamed, but there was nothing he could do. Until, centuries later, when the Book of Psalms was moved to Toledo. The devil finally had his revenge and was able to destroy the monastery. 

Fainted Romanesque paintings

This legend explains the church's recent ruined state, but by now it is in good shape, after being restored at the beginning of this century. Such good shape that a wedding was going to be held there the day I visited. The church's roof had to be replaced, which I hadn't even realized until I saw historic photos with it missing. Inside the church there were a few Romanesque paintings still visible on the walls. You could also go down to the crypt, or up to the tower to enjoy the view. In the monastery next door, there is a small collection of historical photos of the monastery and church. Then you can ramble down to the devil's bridge where a hiking route starts. It wasn't in the cards for me, however. The short visit was the perfect length to occupy the test-taking period. 

Galicia's Green Countryside

As a delayed birthday present (due to Covid restrictions, of course), this weekend we finally went to a casa rural. The morning of our fieldtrip was spent in Betanzos, but that's a post for another day.Right in time for a sesta we arrived for check-in at the casa rural. A typical and refurbished Galician countryside home, it was spacious and made of stone with wood accents. We chose to stay on the first floor, in what used to be the kitchen. It still had the stone counter/basin for washing dishes. Upstairs there were five other bedrooms, as well as little nooks and a balcony. And being springtime, a few of the trees in the yard were in bloom. Lovely!

Dinner and breakfast were served in the large, open living/dining room. The indirect lighting paired with the light wood ceiling and beams gave it a chalet/lodge vibe. Because of Covid restrictions, all the couples were at their own table, spread apart. We got to sit closest to the behemoth fire place. Despite the sunshine in April, in the stone house it was still a bit chilly! The fireplace had benches around it, but not much fire going. Dinner itself was very tasty. We savored the food knowing it was homegrown: lettuce from the garden in the salad, beef from the farm's cows, and soup from the garden greens. Similarly, breakfast was bountiful and homemade. Butter from the cows, homemade jams and jellies, honey from the area. We loaded up on toast, juice, and milk to keep us going on our hike. 

Right be for noon on Sunday, we embarked on a 7 km hike through Fragas do Eume Park. Fragas do Eume is one of the best-conserved forests on the Atlantic coast. I'd been there before but hadn't exactly gone hiking. This was a circular route that went high and low. We started walking through pine trees, then through open fields with views of the Eume River in the distance below. At first we saw a lone cow grazing about 20 feet from the trail. Less than half an hour later, there were a dozen cows! They were interspersed between the trail and the grass, accompanied by their calves/teenage cows. How exciting! They're not wild cows, but belong to someone who lets them graze yearlong. At one point we passed a shack with hay for them. The landscape changed a bit as we walked downhill through a forest of birch, chestnut, and oak trees. As we continued out from between the trees, we were exposed to the sun and wind. As well as some more great views of the river! I thought that we had arrived to a miradoiro (look out). But in fact, that was still further uphill, past an abandoned house and tons and tons of blooming toxos (apparently called gorse, but I've never heard of it outside Galicia). That miradoiro was even better: the river below, the green and yellow (from the toxos) hills and valleys as far as the eye could see. 

Once we arrived back to the car, we dug into some empanada, apparently from one of the oldest bakeries in Spain. On our way home, we passed by one of two monasteries within the Fragas do Eume Park. On my last visit there, we saw the monastery of Caaveiro, and this time it was Monfero's turn. Monfero's monastery looks surprisingly modern. I imagine it's because the majority of Galicia's old buildings are Romanesque and this was Baroque. Granted, as with many Galician treasures, half of it is overgrown and completely uncared for. The only decent part is the church with its checkered façade. The monastery itself is half collapsed, half buried under brush. As I said, unfortunately this neglect is nothing new here in Galicia. 

Vamos Para Noia!

Let's go to Noia! Sounds funnier in Galician because it's like ¨let's go, paranoia!¨

Even though plane rides for me are out of the question these days, living in Galicia (aka Galifornia) means there are still plenty of awesome getaway options close to home. This weekend we visited Noia and its surroundings, smack dab in the middle of Galicia's west coast.

San Martiño and its cursed,
unfinished tower

Noia's Old Town is true to its name, full of beautiful sandstone buildings (including pazos!) dating back to the Middle Ages and beyond. A place to remind me, I'm in Europe! Everything is historic here! We spent our first evening there walking around the pedestrian-only center. There are two noteworthy churches. San Martiño is lopsided, and legend has it that whoever tries to build the second tower is met with a grim demise. Apparently the original builder died before it could be finished, and then a movie director who had had a fake tower constructed for the sake of his film died on the last day of shooting. The other church, Santa Mariña A Nova, has a tremendous collection of stone tomb covers. They are carved with symbols either associated with the person's trade or the family crest. Very cool! The adjoined cemetery is also for some reason one of the most important in Spain.

Old hydroelectric plant by Palacios

A few miles inland from Noia are more natural and man-made landmarks. First, an early morning (by Spanish standards) visit to the still-active hydroelectric plant. Well, we got a bit lost and actually walked around the current plant when what we really wanted to see was the original building from the 1920s. It was designed by Antonio Palacios, the same Galician who went on to design-- among other things-- O Carballiño's unexpectedly large cathedral ; the Palacio de Cibeles, Madrid's current city hall; and the hotel at the Spa in Mondariz. When we finally located the building and surrounding park, it was so peaceful. The river was completely still. The only other people there were a handful of fishermen. There are three possible hikes starting from the park, but we stuck to crossing the small suspension bridge and walking along the river for a few minutes before going back. Just in time, because although it was sunny it had started to drizzle.

Long before the Tambre River's power was harnessed to create electricty, it was a place to fish. (It still is, as a matter of fact.) Especially lamprey. In the Middle Ages this specific section of the river supplied a local monastery with fish. And that was our next stop: San Xusto de Toxosoutos. This time there was a marked trail which I assumed led to the waterfall I had read about while researching the area. We trekked mostly downhill for about an hour, and still no waterfall in sight. We decided to turn around as we weren't exactly prepared for a hike, and certainly weren't convinced that it actually led to the waterfall. Lo and behold, once we made it back up the hill to the monastery, we discovered the waterfall was actually right behind the monastery, in the opposite direction of our little trek. Oops. But hey, at least we got some exercise in before lunch. Right in front of the beach we ate cockles --Noia's specialty-- and squid croquetas. Black like tar, but a thousand times tastier!

Tranquilidade: Mosteiro de Toxosoutos

After lunch we were set to carry out my favorite coastal ritual: the beach nap. But once we put our towels down on the beach in front of the restaurant, the wind picked up and grey clouds covered the sky. We packed up, and although I was so sleepy and grumpy I just wanted to go back to the hotel, we drove in search of those clear, blue skies that could be seen beyond the rain clouds. Amazingly, after about 30 minutes, we did indeed find a beach under the sun! And what a beach to come across-- A Praia das Furnas. This ¨beach of caverns or grottoes¨ has massive, dark rock formations which create a small watering hole protected from the wild sea. Handy because the constant white-capped waves sure made the scenery picture-perfect, but after going in only up to my ankles, I could feel the tide wanted to drag me away. And technically it's not even part of the Costa da Morte (the Death Coast)! In addition to the beach's beauty, it is well-known as the place where Ramón Sampedro (who the movie Mar Adentro is based on) became quadriplegic after an accident.

On top of the crag/cavern, the ocean below in the background,
small pool in the foreground

On Sunday we wrapped up our getaway at Noia's outdoor market. Suddenly the Old Town and riverside were full of dozens of stands selling everything from apparel to kitchenware to food. It wasn't too crowded, so everyone could practice social distancing while perusing the wares. A burger at yet another beach bar-- empty because of the gusty wind-- was our last hoorah in Noia before heading home.