Galicia's Bean Town

Back when the leaves hadn't yet fallen, nor were we on a semi-lockdown, a group of less than 10 of us (the limits for congregating at the time) took a weekend getaway to Lourenzá. Although Lourenzá is in the A Mariña region, it's not on the coast. But that also means it's even closer to Lugo than A Mariña's coastal locales. When we arrived, Lourenzá's valley was brimming with bean plants. Because they're strung up similarly to grapes, for a second I assumed they were grapes. Although, realistically, a Mariña is one of the few regions of Galicia not known for its wine. 

The fabas of Lourenzá are famous throughout Spain. While other faba beans might cost 4€ per kilo when buying at the bulk food store, faba beans from Lourenzá will set you back 12€ a kilo. They've been a hit since the 18th century at least! Growing beans in a tranquil setting... not a bad way to make a living. And I imagine it's not as labor intensive as say, raising cattle. We did have a debate though about how they harvest those beans. Someone insisted that there must be machines for that. The next morning, we noticed some very intricate machines in action: two people picking beans by hand. That answers that.

The refurbished house we rented had a manicured lawn facing the rest of the green valley. Rows of corn and beans made up the view. Hey, sounds not unlike my home state! And the host reminded me of that good old Galician hospitality. Like they say in their anthem, Galicians are bos e xenerosos (good and generous). Upon arriving, the house was stocked with every imaginable commodity, including some fresh fruits and veggies in the fridge. They also came by to bring us firewood and ask if we needed anything. The next door neighbors had a sheep and two little lambs: black and white. Adorable! This brush with farm life might have been more exciting a few years ago, but now that I'm chummy with a pair of goats, a sheep, and some chickens, I wasn't as starstruck.

The weekend weather mostly held out for us, raining only after dark. At times it was clear that with global warming September is now becoming more like summer than autumn. The place had a wood-burning grill, so we were able to cook out and enjoy the great outdoors. Especially pleasant for the apartment dwellers in the group who don't have a yard to run around daily. And because there were two asturianas in the bunch, of course their was plenty of sidra to go around. Homemade and store-bought. 

Saturday morning just the two of us got up early to walk around. After passing some cows and perhaps a million beans, we came to Pazo de Tovar. This pazo is the only non-religious site to be seen in Lourenzá. The rest are churches.Before it was a pazo, it was first built as a tower in the 12th century. Then more was added on as it became a sort of fortress and eventually now can be considered a manor. Unfortunately, due to COVID-19 restrictions it wasn't open for visiting. But we did walk around the place. Another reason to go back again to relax in Galicia's bean town.

It's Chestnut Time!

Chestnuts are a big deal here in Galicia. You can tell by the sheer amount of words en galego associated with them. There's a verb for specifically picking up fallen chestnuts, soutar. There are also several words to describe chestnuts that leave the spiky burr on their own, restrelo, baguto, degaro. Words to describe chestnuts that didn't quite reach their peak (also valid for potatoes), bolerca. Words for chestnuts that have been boiled with their shell, zonco, mamota. Plus Galicia's favorite autumnal event: magosto. And with such an abundance of chestnuts in the provinces of Lugo and Ourense for centuries, structures were built specifically for them. Two-storey shacks (sequeiros) can be found near some forests, used expressly for drying chestnuts. Ouriceiras are small, circular stone structures without a roof, and a narrow opening just wide enough for a person to fit in. They were used to store the chestnuts in their burrs while safeguarding them from animals such as wild boars. On a visit to Marronda Forest which has a trail lined with chestnut trees, we noticed several of these ouriceiras. If I hadn't just recently read about them, I would have thought they were some sort of castro. 

Inside an out-of-use ouriceira

Pumpkin dip and wine bowl

This year for the first time, I've spent sunny fall afternoons collecting chestnuts myself. Sixteen pounds in three days! And there are still more to be collected. Needless to say that is a lot of chestnuts for one (or even two) person. One way to eat chestnuts is boiled with milk and cinnamon. I had never tried it like that until now, and it's delicious! Like eating a bowl of cereal. Chestnuts are actually more like a grain than a nut. That's why before America was discovered, Galicians basically lived off of chestnuts. Now potatoes have become a staple, and chestnuts are reserved for autumn snacking.

With so many pounds of chestnuts collected this year, we just had to celebrate a mini-magosto of our own. I'm not even sure it could be considered a real magosto since that is traditionally saved for the first 11 days of November. We did, however, have all the necessary foods. Aside from chestnuts roasted on an open fire, we also roasted chorizo and sweet potatoes (a tradition imported by our Catalan friend) and sipped red wine. And a very festive kuri pumpkin spread, if I do say so myself. With COVID-19 looming, that may have been our only magosto for the year. 

Some of the harvest drying, but alas, not in a sequeiro

The end of summer at 💀 A Costa da Morte (the Coast of Death)

Before fall turns to winter, time to look back once again at this year's Galifornia summer. People here often compare Galicia to California (jokingly, at least) because of all the coastline and beaches. Half of Galicia's borders are with the sea. While every summer people from Galicia and parts of Spain flock to the southwest region ---the Rías Baixas-- en masse, the Costa da Morte --a little further to the north-- remains relatively unoccupied. (Perhaps because the temperature there is set at 75º F for weeks on end, whereas in the Rías Baixas it can get hot, hot, hot) This was especially true for our visit in September, when visitors from other parts of Spain had already gone back home.

In the Costa da Morte, there really is a lot to see. This time we focused on Muxía and Camariñas, leaving plenty more to be seen on future trips. My previous experience with the Costa da Morte was a visit to the end of the earth: Finisterra. Although the Romans thought it was the end of the Earth at the time, it's not even the furthest west in continental Europe. In the summer months, the last rays of sunshine can be observed from Cabo Touriñán, close to Muxía. Right next to Touriñán's lighthouse is where we spent one of the trip's sunsets. A few other groups were there for the occasion as well. But we were the only ones who came prepared with some food for a makeshift picnic. How romantic! On another night, we watched the sun dip behind Muxía and the sea from the comfort of our campsite. It's funny how an occurrence that happens literally everyday is considered ¨romantic¨ or ¨inspiring¨ when we actually take the time to acknowledge it.

Left, monument. Right, A Virxe da Barca

But back to the trip! The campground we stayed at was halfway between Muxía and Camariñas, so we took a day to explore each. Muxía is unique because it juts out as a tiny, densely-constructed peninsula. It's claim to fame, however, is a small church at the tip of said peninsula. A Virxe da Barca is built atop giant stones, rising above the sea. Legend has it that the Virgin Mary came in a stone boat to tell St James (Galicia's patron saint) to keep on spreading the word. The stones currently around the church are supposedly remnants from that holy stone boat. Very close to A Virxe da Barca is a massive stone monument, cracked in half. It recalls the oil spill of the Prestige in 2002. That was an environmental disaster that spawned the catchphrase ¨Nunca maís¨ or never again.

Even the lacemakers
wear a mask

Camariñas is another seaside town, famous for its lacemaking. We visited the Lace Museum which had some lovely patterns including some decked-out masks for the COVID-19 era. I couldn't resist shopping local and got a more subtle black mask with some simple lace on the sides for ¨formal occasions.¨ Aside from walking along the boardwalk of the Costa da Morte's biggest port, there wasn't much else to see in Camariñas. So we got in the car and headed north along the coastline.

The first stop was another lighthouse: Faro Vilán. It included a delightful little museum about lighthouses and the Costa da Morte in general. The name, evidently, comes from the amount of shipwrecks that happened along the coast in the past centuries. But what makes it so dangerous? Several factors, including the simple fact that it was on the main route between the rest of Europe and southern Spain/Portugal/the Mediterranean. More ships, more shipwrecks. The random changes in depth near the coast don't help either. Suddenly its shallower and your boat has been destroyed by the rocks. It is also said that perhaps the fierce name was used ages ago to scare off rival traders from checking out the area. Who wants to risk sailing around the Coast of Death?

Red, white, and blue (sort of)

Faro Vilán

After the lighthouse, we followed the winding dirt road to some deserted beaches. Well, actually there were a total of two people on three beaches. Continuing our journey, we some how missed the English Cemetery, where they buried the dead of a British shipwreck in 1890. One downside of the Costa da Morte being mostly unspoiled is the lack of signage. We got lost/missed the turn-off several times. They don't even have the basic signs that say ¨TOWN NAME¨ when you enter and ¨TOWN NAME¨ when you leave a place. At one point we were driving through a village but weren't even sure which it was! Good thing we kept going because our destination Camelle was the next village over.

Camelle is a parish of Camariñas with only 1,000 residents. It is noteworthy, despite its size, for the creations left by a German artist named Man. He constructed dozens of sculptures of rocks along a jetty. Unfortunately, because they are right along the sea, each year they are in worse and worse shape. Before going, they warned us that it isn't as great as it used to be. But we had no expectations to compare it to. A few curious statues are still standing. That was good enough for us. 

Remaining art by Man

On the way back to the campground we stopped at a beach. With such sunny weather on the coast, one beach a day was the minimum. Although I myself am not a huge fan, I did go in once or twice. But after the warm water in Miño spoiled me, everything else seems frigid. In the Costa da Morte we mostly stopped at beaches with few sunbathers and surrounded by forests. The campground also had a beach right below it. That was handy for the recreational fisherman who caught us something for lunch! 

Wrocław

Rounding out our trip to Poland last summer was a visit to the city of Wrocław. Hard to remember it's not pronounced rock-law, but something like vrotz-wav. Anyways, since we were flying out of the airport there, we decided to stay 24 hours to check the place out. It actually ended up being more than enough time to see the city. Unlike in Krakow and Warsaw, it didn't feel like we had a bunch of things to see before our time was up. We honestly spent about a quarter of our time eating and drinking. Had to cram in as many pierogis as possible before heading back to Galicia!

Wrocław's old Town Hall

Like our other stops, Wrocław's Old Town was full of different pastel hues. I'm seeing a theme here in Polish architecture. Surprisingly, the center of attention in the main square is not a Cathedral as per usual, but the old City Hall. The Gothic structure is now an art museum. As we did the rounds, we noted the main plaza and a conjoined plaza were brimming with eateries and terraces. Feeling we had the luxury of time to spare, we plopped down on a patio to have a beer while taking in the colors.

Sufragette gnome

A curious part of Wrocław is the gnome population. Over two dozen bronze statues of gnomes can be found scattered throughout the city. Each is frozen doing something different: drinking, sleeping, reading, riding a balloon animal, etc. There are even special needs gnomes! My personal favorite was a gnome seeking ¨Votes for Women.¨ Spotting the tiny statues made sightseeing more entertaining.

Outside the Old Town by the riverside is a nice green area to walk. Nearby we checked out some churches (one with an elaborate painted ceiling), a bridge loaded with locks (placed by couples in love), and the market. And that's how we spent our last hours in Poland. Of course, there is still more to be seen. Between it being the ¨Old Country¨ with homey foods, and everything being so inexpensive, a trip back to Poland is certainly a possibility. 

Historic Krakow: A (Friend's) Storybook Wedding

Back to our trip to Poland for a friend's wedding last summer...

Inside the church

While Warsaw was pretty and colorful, Krakow's Old Town was like a fairy tale. An idyllic place for a wedding. When we arrived from the train station, we had to cross the enormous main plaza-- the biggest market square in Europe-- with its long Renaissance market building (Cloth Hall) in the middle. Eleven streets converge to make this square! In one corner is a brick clock tower, and in the opposite a brick church. As we traversed the plaza, we had to be careful to avoid horse-drawn carriages trotting with happy couples in tow. A few hours later, in another Krakovian church, another happy couple was tying the knot. The inside of the church was decked in gold, and during the ceremony tourists popped in to take pictures. Like paparazzi at a royal wedding! And no fairy tale wedding would be complete without the couple being whisked away in their very own horse-drawn carriage. The rest of us walked a few minutes by the riverside to get to the reception. It was held on a roof with amazing views of the Vistula River and Wawel Castle. 

View of Wawel from the reception

What's the difference between a Polish wedding and an American one anyways? Based on my extensive research--that is, attending one Polish/American wedding in Poland hehe-- there are only a few striking differences. Once gathered for the reception, there was a toast in honor of the bride and groom. The usual. Except, afterwards the couple broke their glasses on the the floor and then cleaned it up. Sounds like wedding traditions in other countries, representing working together in the years ahead. The other main difference was that after dinner they put a bottle of vodka on each table. I wasn't surprised per se. After all, it's Poland! However the extra vodka bottles seemed extravagant on top of the open bar. Nothing wrong with that! Na Zdrowie! Booze wasn't the only thing available all night long. Nowadays it seems somewhat common at weddings to have a snack bar to replace any calories lost dancing in the hours after dinner. At this wedding, in addition to that, they had two different sit-down meals after dinner, before and after midnight. One of those was my new favorite soup, zurek.

A corner of Krakow's Market Square

Observing the university
 courtyard

Despite having plenty of vodka at our disposal all night, we were able to do some sightseeing the next day. (Perhaps there's a difference between Galician and Polish weddings. We the stragglers left at 3:30. In Galicia the stragglers last past dawn. Or so I've heard.) Everywhere you look, Krakow feels historic. No wonder the city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Vestiges of the past are spread out further than just the expansive Old Town. Even when we ventured out, seemingly far from the historic attractions, we came across a centuries-old church. In a corner of it there is a small metal grid. Unnoticeable, if not for the little sign. According to legend, it's protecting what is supposed to be the footprint of Queen Jadwiga. In the 14th century, the young queen took pity on a poor construction worker and stuck her foot in the wet cement so that he could sell the gold clasp from her shoe. Her footprint remained. This was only one of many historic sites we came across. We also stopped by a small college courtyard from one of Eastern Europe's oldest universities. Another curious visit was underneath the Cloth Hall in the main plaza. The underground museum is all about the history of Krakow and definitely worth the visit (especially since it just happened to be free the day we went). It was very interesting and interactive. Among other things, we got to compare our statures to people in the Middle Ages, as well as weigh ourselves using their units of measurement.

Inside the market building and above the Rynek Underground 

Inside Wawel

But the clear gem of Krakow is perched atop a hill, behind fortress gates. That's the Royal Complex of Wawel. A castle, tower, palace, gardens, cathedral, artifacts, fire-breathing dragon: Wawel's got it all! It made for a lovely afternoon going on a tour and wandering around the gardens and courtyards.

Krakow also has a lot of Jewish history. Kazimierz is the Jewish quarter right outside the Old Town, housing synagogues, Jewish cemeteries, and a lot of cool restaurants and bars. One such restaurant was called GALICIJA. We didn't go in, but appreciated the connection. Instead we opted for decked-out pizza baguettes from a stand in Kazimierz's lively flea market. Just on the other side of the river from Kazimierz are two more sites related to the wrong side of Jewish history. Unfortunately Schindler's Factory was sold out for the day, but we did get to check out The Eagle Pharmacy. This now-museum was right in the middle of the ghetto that the Nazis created. The pharmacy remains as it did in the 1940s, except now the drawers all have artifacts or information related to the ghetto and Nazi invasion.

Overall, I really enjoyed Krakow and could see myself living there, if only for a short time. There were so many things left to explore! And it has plenty of greenery, including a park that surrounds the Old Town. Plus I finally found my ideal paczek shop. Donuts everyday! 

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.