Feira Franca

Pontevedra, like almost all Galician cities, has its own historical festival. Feira Franca is a Medieval fair celebrated every September. The name comes from the Middle Ages when Pontevedra was granted permission for a month-long market free of taxes. For the past two decades, this one-day blast from the past has completely transformed the city.

The first time I went, last year, I was amazed by the fact that everyone was dressed up. I love festivals that require costumes, so Lugo's Roman/Celtic fair Arde Lucus is another one of my favorites. But there its reputation has made it blow up, attracting visitors who come as tourists without costumes. Pontevedra, on the other hand, seemed to have kept it a secret. Requiring vendors to dress with the theme helps. But this year, there were a few more people dressed in modern clothes. I guess the cat's out of the bag!

Friday night, several knights ride into town on horses, to read the proclamation. That the next day commences Feira Franca! Saturday is full of activities for the whole family: an obstacle course and theatrical performance for kids; Medieval stands to peruse; jousting tournaments; Medieval dance class; spectacles and roving bands. Once again we rented a table in the old town for lunch and to rest our weary feet throughout the day. Some restaurants go all out for their lunch guests on the terrazas. It's fun to see decked out banquets, fit for the Medieval nobility seated at them. Groups of friends can also set up their own Medieval lunch under tents in the tree-lined promenade of the city center.


This year my favorite part of Feira Franca was the Medieval dance. First the professionals danced. Then, with A Peregrina church for a background, a few dozen of us (mostly commoners, some nobles) pranced around in wide skirts or breeches. The most intimate contact was grasping of hands as we danced. Scandalous! Maybe next year we'll choreograph something to the sound of lutes and harpsichords-- something to amaze the troubadours.

The fun continued on to the wee hours of the night. It ended in a bar with a movie screen which was showing none other than ¨Monty Python and the Holy Grail.¨ Relevant.

More Pyrenees: Hiking in Aigüestortes National Park

A few minutes by car from the Vall de Boi is the Spanish National Park Aigüestortes i Estany Sant Maurici, the fourth national park I've been too (after Picos de Europa, The Galician Islands, and Ordesa y Monte Perdido). It's name is Catalan for Twisting Waters and Lake St. Maurice. Again, to get into this park you park outside and from there can take park transportation inside. But due to the winding trails, it's a van instead of a bus, and therefore much more expensive.

This time we opted to hike the entrance trail. It took a few hours, almost always uphill, and often following a river. The trail sometimes opened up to grassy, mossy pastures with pine trees and the ever-present mountain backgrounds. On our way into the park we passed one of the hundreds of lakes.

When we arrived to where the transportation would have dropped us off, we had lunch in the shade. Then we decided to continue towards Estany Llong, the closest lake on the map.On this hike we came across a herd of cattle grazing. Further on, there were so many streams crisscrossing, that they had built a wooden platform to cross the very alpine valley. Near the end of this trail was one of the shelters and then the rocky path got really steep really fast. Whew! I needed a rest before I could really take in the lake.

Estany Llong

For the first leg of the hike, we passed many other hikers. Then on the second leg, towards the second lake, we only passed people going the opposite direction. So finally, on the way back from Estany Llong it was just us. And it started to drizzle. We took a final walk around the deck they have set up near the starting off point, and hopped in a group taxi back to the car.

The Pyrenees Cont'd: Romanesque Churches in Catalunya

Sant Feliu de Barruera

On to the Catalan Pyrenees we went. The star of this region's Pyrenees has to be the Vall de Boi, a valley that blends beautiful mountain backgrounds with UNESCO World Heritage sites. Within the valley, there are nine Romanesque churches. Again, thinking back to the time it was built, it's amazing to imagine that they had such a need for so many churches within such a small territory. Granted, with the hills trekking to mass couldn't have been easy. But several are within 30 minutes walking distance of each other. There must have been a lot more hillside dwellers than nowadays.

Sant Climent de Taüll

For 8€ we went in 3 churches and the Romanesque museum (which honestly wasn't that beneficial). Most of the churches have the characteristic bell tower that you can climb up. At Santa Eulàlia I went all the way up, but in Sant Climent de Taüll I got too nervous and had to go back down. And all of those bell towers still have very active bells. I guess if it were my job to ring them, I could've brought myself to regularly climbing up all the way. But not my cup of tea. In Sant Climent, perhaps the most famous one, they have a really neat audiovisual projection. The Romanesque art behind the altar is very colorful, although after nearly a milllenium it's quite faded. So the projection of how it would have looked made it more real.

Santa Eulàlia d'Erill al Vall

Our campsite in the Vall de Boi was on the edge of an open field, with only one or two fellow campers. From the tent door we could see one of the Romanesque churches up on a hill about 500 meters away. The first night there was a bad storm. I cursed the fact that we had sought shade, imagining that the tree behind us could be struck by lightening and come crashing down. Obviously, that didn't happen. We survived! And barely any water got in.

Sant Joan de Boí 

Santa María de Taüll

I really enjoyed the Vall de Boi. Nature and history: what's not to love? Lots of tourists, yes, but when we went down to one of the villages to have a beer, we heard a lot of Catalan being spoken. Also, when we had a nice dinner, it seemed the majority of diners were speaking Catalan. There the waiter pegged us for Galicians right away because of the accent. I didn't correct him. :p

Pyrenees Cont'd: Hiking in Ordesa-Monte Perdido

Medieval Bridge

Rocky tent view

Our second night camping in the Pyrenees, we changed campsites-- a definite upgrade. El Valle del Bujaruelo was much cheaper, much closer to our national park destination (Ordesa y Monte Perdido), and had a much better view from the tent opening. Our first afternoon we decided to explore the valley area, taking a walk down a road to another campsite and shelter for mountaineers. Despite being kilometers away from the nearest town (the Medieval town of Torla-Ordesa, population: 315) and near the base of a mountain, there was a Medieval Bridge. The now-shelter used to be a hospital in the Middle Ages. Hard to imagine there being enough mountainside population to warrant a hospital, but long ago that region must've been booming with farmers (and traffickers) rather than tourists.

Waterfall en route

The next morning, we got up early to head to the National Park of Ordesa and Monte Perdido. To limit traffic, you have to catch a bus in the town Torla-Ordesa which will take you into the park. We did the most common hike along with hundreds of other people: to the Cascada de la Cola de Caballo (Horse Tail Waterfall). I was surprised that the majority of our hike wasn't on a narrow trail, but a wide path. Obviously, to accommodate so much traffic. The hike started off uphill, through a forest. Along the way we saw several cool waterfalls. As the shade began to disappear the path wound up some rocks. But as B pointed out, if the families with kids could do it, so could I. (All of the kids we saw, however, were definitely in better shape than me).

Valley-- the end is nigh!

In the final stretch, the path opened up into a big, green valley surrounded by grey, rocky mountains. Magnificent! Tucked in the mountain's corner was the Horse Tail Waterfall which was true to its name. Tons of people were already there, having lunch, taking pictures, and splashing around in the freezing spring water.

Horse Tail Waterfall

We varied the walk back and savored those mountain views. After we got the bus back to town, I mustered up the energy to walk around the town a bit, nowadays just a tourist destination. We stocked up on some food for dinner and had a well-deserved beer. 

¨Fire bulls¨ in the Aragonese Pyrenees

Now that I'm settled into another school year teaching English in Galicia, I've mustered the willingness to recap some summer and pre-summer fun. This year's vacation destination (aside from a rejuvenating trip home for a few weeks) was the Pyrenees. We spent a week in awe of these mountains and the scenery it created, as well as the centuries-old architecture typical of the region. We stayed on the Spanish side, between the regions of Aragon and Catalunya.

During our first day in the Pyrenees, we went to Canfranc-- a little village with a massive train station. Abandoned train station, that is. It was used to welcome the many immigrants coming from France (and from the rest of Europe) with style. Nowadays, you can't go in or even cross the train tracks. They do have thematic nighttime visits we were unable to attend. Maybe next year!

The first night within the Pyrenees, we stayed at a campground nestled on the side of a hill full of green trees. It had a pool, too, with million dollar views. I thought it was lovely, but later on would realize that there were bigger and more beautiful mountains to be seen. By serendipity, the nearby town of Biescas was having their annual town fair. The main event: Toros de fuego (fire bulls). There were signs around the town warning festivalgoers that they participated at their own risk. Closed toe shoes required. Protective headgear and glasses required. In my head I had already begun to imagine insane (and inhumane!) Spanish ¨festivities¨ involving lighting a poor bull's horns on fire and setting him loose as the crowd does an even wilder running of the bulls. Not my idea of a fun night on vacation.

Fire bull with bullfighter to boot!

Our brief stroll through town brought us to an open plaza full of people just standing around. Chatting. Waiting. I had seen on the schedule that the kiddie fire bulls were about to start. And suddenly, an announcement and out came a man jogging with a barbecue barrel on his head. It was meant to look like a bull, and aside from the sparklers sticking out from its horns, it also dropped firecrackers that went whirring through the air in circles as they ended in cracking explosions. A handful more of these ¨bulls¨ came out, families dodging their sparklers. Since we were in the plaza, we also took to dodging the jogging fire bulls. I screamed every time they got close.

While the kiddie hour was exhilarating enough for me, I imagined the ¨real deal¨ at 1 AM could get ugly. Surely they had used people dressed as bulls so that the earlier run was family-friendly. I wanted to pass on the event, but also felt a morbid curiosity as to what it would be like. We had dinner and some drinks to kill time. At 1 we were in the plaza again. I wasn't convinced that I wanted to participate. My partner, on the other hand, had got sunglasses from the car (as per the warning signs) and was ready to roll. As I looked around the plaza, I noticed that there were a lot of teenagers around. And equally as many drunk people who I feared didn't stand a chance. They would fall and be trampled! Then, some motion in the corner of the plaza. I ducked over to a stone staircase where plenty of people were hiding from harm's way. Yet once again-- to my delight-- there were no real bulls, just people running around with big barbecue barrels over their heads, spewing out flying fireworks.


What a blast! Running, dodging, taunting! At one point I ran with a group of people down a street, which was partially blocked off from the fire bulls. When I turned to go back to the action, another bull came barreling past, so I ducked behind some of the wall that made a little corner.  Once on the ground, the firecrackers that came flying off the bulls snaked around incessantly for a few minutes. Of course, one of the firecrackers got stuck in my little corner, near my feet. I freaked out and scampered away. Back in the main plaza, there were probably a dozen fire bulls at once, coming from all directions. We must have been at it for an hour, but it didn't seem that long. Time flies when you're having fun...dodging firecrackers from people dressed as bulls in tiny towns in the Pyrenees.

San Xoán Herbs in Pontevedra

One of the traditions of San Xoán (Midsummer) is to collect the ¨Seven Herbs of San Xoán¨ that evening, put them in a tub outside, and wash your face/feet/body the next day. The combination of these herbs and San Xoán dew leaves your skin feeling smooth and...lucky? According to a ¨definitive list¨ these herbs include: St John's wort, lemon verbena, mallow, rosemary, fennel, broom, and fern. The seven herbs vary by village. Case in point: on our plant-gathering walk along the river, we ran into two elderly women. They looked at the plants we had already collected, and disagreed with more than half of them, saying ¨No way, that one's worthless! We don't use that¨ etc. They were right about one thing though, since we confused St. John's wort with a similar plant. At the end of our hike we had 6/7 of the usual plants, plus some mint and oak leaves. It really did smell delightful and left my face feeling fresh the next day.

It would seem my goal for San Xoán is to spend it in a different city each year, since so far I've spent the magical night in Coruña, Lugo, Compostela, and this year Pontevedra. While in the previous cities they actively maintain the traditions of bonfires, in Pontevedra due to city ordinances there are only 2 or 3 public bonfires on the outskirts of town.

We started our evening going to one of the few gatherings right in front of our house. First there was a concert of traditional music. Dozens of neighbors playing the accordion, guitar, tambourine, shells, and bagpipes. We danced a waltz. Since we both dance bad, I bet it almost looks good! They played a polka, too! By the time the concert was finished, it was time to get a free sardine, fresh off the grill. I am not a big fish fan, but in keeping with traditions I ate half.

We left before the communal bonfire started. Somehow we got invited to a private bonfire further outside the city. There we were met with a multigenerational cookout. They built a small bonfire in the yard, which I jumped over 5 times. Seven jumps is the norm, but as long as it's an odd number you're safe. Afterwards, the youth headed to the village's big bonfire. Way too wide to jump over. However they had a smaller fire where kids were lined up waiting to jump. We spent the rest of the night grooving to the music. Unfortunately, we didn't greet the dawn (another tradition). Maybe next year.