Amsterdam

Although it was a 3-day trip, only 1 of those days was spent in the city of Amsterdam. I had heard it's an expensive place. Luckily, we saved money by staying with friends. All museums cost 18€ (yikes), so instead of spending money on something I would feel rushed to enjoy, we just explored the city on foot for the day. Everyone else had already been to Amsterdam, so they kinda let me lead the way. And despite the cold weather (mid-May and a sweater + jacket barely kept me warm), it was a nice time.

In many ways, the highlights were exactly what I was expecting: bicycles parked everywhere, tons of bridges over tons of canals, taller people, flower markets. But I liked the architecture even more than I imagined. Brick beauties! And thanks to an in-flight magazine, we were quick to observe the large hook hanging off every roof. Those are to hoist up furniture since the staircases are narrow to save space.

And as far as typical Dutch food goes, I enjoyed a stroop waffle in the market. Two thin waffles (with cinnamon, I think) held together by a layer of caramel syrup. You can get it hot in the market, or smaller cookie versions in any grocery store. Yummo!

Biking in Holland

When I studied abroad in San Sebastián, I had a friend whose parent was from the Netherlands, and often some style or habit would make her say, ¨That is so Dutch!¨ I found myself thinking that phrase over and over again last month when we took a long weekend to visit Amsterdam and other lovely Dutch towns by bike.

More on Amsterdam later. The fun part was the Dutch countryside. We left the capital ¨early¨ Saturday morning. I say early in quotes because it was as early as a group of nine adults and two babies could get ready to ride. It seemed like the cast of an episode of  ¨Galegos no estranxeiro¨ a show that films Galicians living abroad. The group was made up of Galicians living in Holland, Belgium, and France as well as some (myself included) who were just on vacation. Anyways, the great thing about the Netherlands is they've got bike lanes all over the place. (I did not appreciate, however, that motorcycles could also use the bike trails. Talk about scary.) At some points we rode on old country roads, rarely encountering cars. One guy waved to me from his window! I was so delighted. That is so Dutch!

Zaanse Schans
About an hour out of Amsterdam was our first stop. It's a little replica village of the 1700s, with museums, shops, and of course, windmills. I really liked the architecture in Holland because it all reminded me of colonial Boston. We had a picnic lunch in front of the Cooper's workshop. Then we visited a clog shop. That is so Dutch.

Purmerend
We spent the night on a boat in this small town. Luckily we ventured further into town, because we then discovered that they were having a town fair (with rides more similar to those at home than the shabbier town fairs in Galicia). I was too pooped from all that bike riding to stay out late though, and took advantage of the excuse to go back early with one of the babies. It was cool to wake up to ducks floating outside our tiny window the next morning.

Edam
This town was so delightful! Again, because of that colonial architecture, I half expected people to come out of shops dressed in revolutionary garb. It had one main canal, with a steep brick bridge. Down a second major canal, people out for a Sunday stroll/boat ride passed us by. We stopped for lunch at a fried food shack next to the canal.

Volendam
Instead of just canals, it opens to the sea (well, an eastern bay). I wish we had had more time to spend here, since the sun was shining, and all the terraces were packed. Looked like such fun! But we had a schedule to keep, so there wasn't time for stopping in this town.

Monnickendam
This town also opens to the bay, but we mostly just saw the main canal with its old-timey sailboats. This was our last stop for some refueling before we had to kick it into high gear and bike back to Amsterdam before the bike rental shop closed. Despite being mostly flat, the last two hours of biking was really a killer. From zero exercise to a two day bike trip is quite a jump. But I survived! Crabby, but alive!

Os Maios (May Day)

May first in Galicia is a double whammy. In all of Spain, it's a holiday (Labor day), so there are marches in just about every city. This year the speeches focused on the success of the Women's Strike this past March 8th and on the continuing battle for better pensions, which has been going on for the past few months. But Galicia is also one of the few Autonomous Communities to celebrate the beginning of spring with May Day (Os Maios).

The tradition (which probably traces back to the Celts) is to make a decorated tree with flowers and bushes. In the area of province of Ourense, they can only use wildflowers and wild-growing bush. In Pontevedra, they use flowers and plants from the garden, as well as eggshells and orange peels. After building their May tree, participants dance around it while singing couplets; almost always a social critique. In Pontevedra's case, almost all the May trees were made by middle school students. The groups take turns performing in front of the crowd on a stage in a town center plaza. Then people vote on their favorite tree/couplet combination.

Another less common tradition is to place the branch of a yellow-flowered xesta (apparently called ¨common broom¨ in English) on your car. By less common, I mean not as visible in the cities. Saw tons of them at the seaside. Before cars were around, I imagine they hung them on their house doors. Hanging the plant is supposed to guarantee a fruitful harvest this year. We stopped to cut some near the side of the road, but it didn't last long wedged between the car and the license plate. I guess that means only half of our plants will die.

We took advantage of the day off and nice weather by going rollerblading by the sea. And then checking out some really big rocks. Cool.

Reconquista de Vigo

On a sunny weekend in April, Galicia's biggest city Vigo celebrated it's ¨reconquering.¨ Yet another Galician historical festival, this one takes you back to 1809, the year that Vigo's citizens took back their town from Napoleon's French army. So nowadays they celebrate with costumes from the era, plentiful vendors, and traditional dances. Most people who dress up just wear traditional Galician garb, or simple clothes to suit the 1800s. People dressed as French soldiers were few and far between.

Compared to two of my favorite historical festivals so far (Arde Lucus and Feira Franca), Vigo's Reconquista just didn't blow my mind. One big part of that is crowd participation. I love dressing up. Therefore, I love seeing other people dressed up, too. At Arde Lucus and Feira Franca, around 90% of people are wearing a historical costume. For the Reconquista of Vigo, of the people in the old town, where the fair was held, only about half were dressed up. And outside the old town, for example at the train station, there was no sign of the historical fest. At least the city council attempted to encourage participation. All of the vendors (and there were a lot of them) were required to dress for the time period, and also have a booth that was looked the part. And they also had people use paper cups which are slightly better for the environment than thousands of plastic cups.

Daytrippers South of the Border

One benefit of living in Galicia is that Portugal is just a short drive away. When you cross the border, it's actually hard to tell the difference since the scenery is the same on the other side of the Miño River. While some insist that Portuguese and Galician are the same language, for me the  pronunciation is the only clue that you've made it south of the border.

On Palm Sunday we set out relatively early (especially keeping in mind that the hour hand had sprung forward). First stop: Tui. Given the holiday, we observed a procession of nearly 100 people around the town, following a statue of Jesus on a donkey. They didn't carry the palms we are used to back home; rather olive branches are more popular. Back in the day, people would leave the olive branch on their land since it was thought to bring fertility to the summer's crops.

I don't know why, but I was expecting Tui to be more magical. After all, it used to be a capital of the 7 Galician Kingdoms.  Tui's old town center is pleasant. But after seeing a lot of pretty, old town centers, I wasn't amazed. What did amaze me, however, was the information they had about Jews and the Jewish quarter of Tui. The Jews were kicked out of Spain in 1492. So in the north at least, vestiges of them are rare to find. In Tui there was a Jewish quarter and synagogue, with some carvings on houses still visible today.

Next stop: Viana do Castelo. This port town is on the ocean and also at the mouth of the Limia River. Atop the hill next to the city, overlooking the sea, is a big white church. In some ways it reminded me of Sacre Coeur, Paris. Similar church with lots of steps and a view below. Further up the same hill is a Celtic-turned-Roman camp. If it weren't for the Eucalyptus, there would be some great views. This was reminiscent of Castro de Santa Tegra, just an hour north on the same coast. For lunch we had a pair of Francesinhas, a typical Portuguese sandwich with various meats, melted cheese on top, and a plateful of its own special sauce. The main street was lovely, with views of the port in front of you, the white hillside church behind you, and along the road colorful shops and restaurants.

Our last stop was Ponte de Limia, an interior city on the same Limia River as Viana do Castelo. Because of the holiday, there was a big market set up under the trees along the riverside promenade. The highlight of the city, though, is a Roman and Medieval bridge which leads to another little white chapel. Coincidentally they were having a Craft Beer Fest which we checked out. And after a stroll through town we went back on our merry way to Galicia.

Carnival Pt 2: Mud, Ants, and Medieval Castles

For the second part of Entroido/Carnival, we crossed the border back into Galicia. In the south of the province of Ourense, Carnival is alive and kickin'. The main sites are Xinzo de Limia, Verín, and Laza.

Little Pantallas

Our first stop was Xinzo de Limia. Despite it being a Sunday night, there were tons of people, 95% dressed in costume. Each town has their own Carnival characters, and in Xinzo they're called Pantallas, and so far are one of my favorites. Unlike the Peliqueiras of Laza, the Pantallas don't hit. They simply jingle-jangle down the street and every once in a while SLAM the two blown-up, hard cow's bladders that they carry. Usually they do this to people who aren't wearing a costume, but you can also hear SLAM SLAM regardless. And in Xinzo they start 'em young; there were at least a dozen mini-Pantallas running around town.

We turned in early for the night in Baños de Molgas, a quiet riverside village just far enough from the wild Carnival festivities to get some shut eye. The village has a spa, with the river washing up to it's door. Kind of like Venice, except I doubt anyone shows up by boat. Next to the spa is a natural hot spring, carved into a...washing station? A bath? I'm not sure which, and we didn't get in. The change in temperature made the area steamy though!

Next stop: Laza, home to some pretty wacky Carnival traditions. I had been to Laza before, except last time we arrived after the mudslinging, and only saw the destruction left behind. This year, however, we came prepared and ready to get messy. Both of us wore work clothes and arrived when the all-out mud fest was already underway. The tiny village's main plaza was divided into two ¨sides,¨ the common enemy apparently being cleanliness. An old bathtub was filled with mud and old rags. The tradition consists of throwing muddy rags, picking some off the ground, and repeating the cycle, until your hands go numb. As we approached, there were two who I deem the ¨Clean Police,¨ because they seemed to be targeting all the newcomers. ¨Take off your glasses!¨ Splash! A muddy rag rubbed in my face! Well, at least they let me take off my glasses. I kept them in the bar. But of course, then I couldn't see to aim very well (which made hitting people that much more rewarding). I'm also grateful I didn't suffer the same fate as other ¨clean¨ people who were thrown kicking and screaming into the mud bathtub.  In total, they were out there mudslinging for over 90 minutes. We sought shelter halfway through though. Mid February--that mud was cold!

In between messy Carnival traditions, we checked into our hotel which was actually a Medieval castle. In fact, I had been to visit it with friends three years ago when it was just an old castle to explore. Perfect place for a photo shoot of our Robin Hood and Maid Marian costumes! From the wraparound balcony, you could see the village of Verín below (including concerts at night), and miles of the rest of the valley. And with a welcome bottle of cava, we really did feel like royalty. That is, like count and countess.


Back in Laza for the evening, another strange tradition was about to begin. In the same main plaza from before people were starting to gather. But we went to join the festa in a ¨suburb¨ of the village, which is where the procession of ants and flour started. Yes, ants and flour. A small brass band got people psyched, as they brought out a giant ant figure. After a while, everyone walked back to the plaza, and that's where the real ants and flour started flying. By this time the plaza was absolutely packed, and we just ducked to the side of the road where people were already waiting. A few townspeople carried big sacks of dirt and ants, flinging them in the air. At one point, I wondered, 'Why are we subjecting ourselves to this? The mud can be fun, but ants!?' During the ant tossing, was flour shooting. They had what looked like leaf blowers, but loaded with flour. It's snowing! Kind of.

Blizzard? 

Follow the ant lord!

This concludes Carnival 2018. Galicia is one of the few autonomous communities where schools have a 5-day-weekend. But there are so many curious Carnival traditions within Galicia, it'll take years to discover them all. Wonder where I'll celebrate them next year...