Tucked in between our visits to O Grove and the expedition to Santiago de Compostela, we were introduced to one of the most unusual villages I have ever met. As we were dropped off at the modern marina in Combarro, I remember thinking that there was nothing very special about it, but that hasty judgement was soon to be completely eclipsed. We walked along the promenade, admiring the boats. At the end, the restaurant A Torna faces out to sea, Beside it, steps lead to an extraordinary other world.
Raised granaries, or horreos, as they’re known here, are commonplace in Galicia. These stone buildings are used to store food and grain, and are raised on pillars to protect them from mice and keep them dry. Here in Combarro, they stand protectively, side by side around the bay, 30 or more, looking sternly out to sea. Behind them, on Rua do Mar, solid stone casas marineras, or sea houses, have been home to the fishing population for centuries, and signs of their activity are strewn everywhere. These are punctured briefly by narrow flights of steps, sometimes festooned with flowers to lighten the mood. It’s a compelling place and not easy to describe nor, for me, to capture the atmosphere in photos.
Beyond the granaries, bright glimpses of the estuary at Pontevedra sparkle in the sunshine. Restaurants overlook the water and a myriad of tiny shops are tucked in haphazardly between them and the old stone houses opposite. Dark, cave-like secretive shops, full of tempting wines and spirits and others, flaunting what could so easily be termed tourist tat, but somehow transformed to desirable offerings by the magic of the place. Little witch dolls dangle, their brooms symbolically sweeping away all negativity and bad things. Superstition lives happily alongside religious belief here.
Statues and crosses and cobbles complete the picture, catching you out in beguiling small squares, while balconies trail pot plants, generously shared if you care to look up. There are 9 stone cruceiros, or stone crosses. On some, the Virgin Mary faces out to sea, calming the waters and, on the opposite side, Jesus protects his flock of fisherfolk. Plaza da Fonte is home to a fountain with a wonderful tap, and the cross bears a Pieta (Our Lady with Christ in her arms) dating back to 1721.
Playa da Padron is a shallow beach with lovely views back along the waters edge. Combarro is located on the Spiritual Variant of the Portuguese Camino de Santiago, which stretches from Pontevedra to Padron in 3 stages. Two of the stages are for walking and one by boat, which I would love to have done. Combarro is the perfect halfway stop.
The mist swirled as we headed an hour north to join the Portuguese Way of St. James, but the forecast was much brighter for later. The coach dropped us at a spot just less than 8km from the centre of Santiago de Compostela. An enormous cheat, you might feel, and so did I, and yet we are all walkers and pilgrims, after a fashion, and it was good to experience even a tiny stretch of the camino. This city is the stuff of legends, isn’t it? Expectations can’t get any higher. Could it live up to the hype? I was about to find out.
(My galleries are all captioned- just click on any photo)
With great excitement, we peregrinos set forth, soon leaving behind our rural setting. The route passed small holdings and allotments, part on gravel trail and part lanes and then, disconcertingly, through a subway with the motorway traffic flying overhead. Wisteria and wild roses straggled beside us as I kept pace with a true pilgrim, complete with her scallop ‘badge’ of identity.
Some looked noticeably weary, but most had a smile and a ‘bom camino!’ as Santiago drew ever nearer. Way stations provided water and snacks for a few cents, often with a touch of humour. And then the serious business of acquiring a stamp for your passport. We looked on, with a touch of envy. Only souvenirs were available for us.
It both was, and it wasn’t, what I expected. I loved the inclusiveness and camaraderie but, as we neared the city, our surroundings became increasingly suburban and mundane. Fernando, our group leader, sometimes lingered behind, embracing nature and feeling the spirituality. We arrived at a crossroads and were uncertain which choice to make, for both directed us to Santiago. Confidently, Fernando directed us on the longer route, via Conxo. It soon became apparent why.
We had arrived at Nossa Senhora de la Merced de Conxo. There was just time to slip inside and light a candle. Originally built in the 12th century to house a community of nuns, part of the cloister from that period can still be visited, with permission. The nuns moved on in the 15th century and were replaced by Mercedarian monks. The adjoining church dates from the 17th century, with the baroque altarpiece that you see in the photos. The monastery itself has been a Psychiatric Hospital since 1993.
By complete contrast, I was entertained by the variety of murals as we approached the city centre. And then, astoundingly, we were there and part of a sea of bodies in the narrow streets. It’s not for the claustrophobic, but the atmosphere bounced off the walls right back at us. We pressed on, struggling at times to keep track of each other. Shops and dining experiences closed in on either side, and a lady bearing a tray of cake invited all to take a free sample. I did, of course, but don’t remember it as being remarkable.
Finally we reached our goal, and the magnificent Cathedral Square opened out in front of us. The sun had pushed the clouds away and we were dazzled by the grandeur. It’s an experience that will stay bright in my memory- the vast open space, littered with a carpet of pilgrims. Some were dozing, propped up on rucksacks on the hard flags. Some followed a flag bearing guide, pivoting to snap selfies in every direction. While still others were piped triumphantly into the square, cheering loudly at finally making it to their destination. The noise and the atmosphere generated pure awe, and as we stood there a military fly past soared overhead.
We needed to retreat to quieter streets to get our bearings. Time to regroup, and eat. We were to reassemble in the square at 5.30 to meet our own guide, and learn a little of the history of this hallowed place. It’s impossible to do justice to Santiago in a simple post like this, and I’d be a fool to try. I can only give you my impressions as I wandered around. If I’d stayed in the Hostal dos Reis Catolicos (the Parador) I would definitely have felt like royalty.
The cloisters of the Fonseca Palace lured us in, but there wasn’t time to visit the many museums of the city. Instead we were drawn to the Parque da Alameda, with its fountains, beautiful trees and view across to the Cathedral.
Santiago de Compostela is the capital of Galicia, in the north west of Spain. The city has its origin in the shrine of St. James, the cathedral being the destination of the Way of St. James, a Catholic pilgrimage route since the 9th century. In 1985 Santiago’s Old Town was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. A massive restoration project took more than 10 years to complete.
In case you might wonder, Compostela comes from the Latin, compositum tella, meaning a well-ordered burial ground. Santiago derives from Sanctus Jacobus, in Galician, Saint James. According to a medieval legend, the remains of the apostle, James, were brought to Galicia for burial. Somehow they were lost and, 800 years later, the light of a bright star guided a shepherd to this site. The Cathedral was subsequently built there to honour St. James. Disappointingly, we didn’t get to see inside the Cathedral. Visits are timed and numbers restricted, so if ever I return to Santiago I will make sure to book a tour well in advance. In the meantime, our lady guide led us around the city with huge enthusiasm and attention to detail. I marvelled at the photos showing the restoration of the Portico de la Gloria, Mateo’s 12th century Romanesque masterpiece.
There’s so much to this city that you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. I have merely skimmed the surface.
I hope you enjoyed walking into Santiago de Compostela with me. It’s an experience I’ll never forget. I’ll be back on Thursday to show you Combarro, another jewel on Galicia’s coast. Till then, please take good care, and enjoy your week.
Back across the causeway we went, and along the promenade. A Toxa is part of a town called O Grove and our hotel, Montemar, is situated at the far end, opposite the causeway. It’s an attractive promenade, lined with sculptures, looking directly across to A Toxa.
We were heading for the harbour and a promised boat ride, and you know how I feel about those- excited! With a little time in hand before departure, we wandered a few of the streets to get a feel for the place.
In the harbour there were any number of tour boats, a cheerful scene full of arrivals and departures. I expected that we would be on the cheaper excursion, with an open top deck and noisy commentary. For 20 euros you could have a tour of the bay, accompanied with seafood nibbles. I was feeling a little hungry, but I’m not a great fan of seafood, much preferring almost any variety of fish.
Imagine my surprise when we were escorted to the 40 euro tour boat, an elegant catamaran with smartly uniformed staff. Instead of going out on deck we were directed below to the dining area where, to my horror, enormous platters of seafood awaited us. A huge treat, already paid for, and pounced upon eagerly by our Portuguese companions. I looked in dismay at the crabs, crayfish, prawns and clams, all in their natural state, and at the implements provided to prise them from their shells. I am completely incapable of wielding a hammer to obtain my lunch.
Shellfish to spare!
My face must have been a picture! I sat politely through the toasts, then struggled manfully with a prawn. Michael is scarcely more enthusiastic than me, but he braved the experience- well, some of it, anyway. I had to make my excuses and retreat to the sunshine on top deck to calm myself. It was serene and beautiful up there, and after a while I plucked up courage to go below for dessert. Somewhat shamefacedly. Apparently I could have opted for a meat platter but it had to be ordered in advance. I had misinterpreted our Portuguese instructions, with the resulting embarrassment. Fortunately my cake was quite delicious. A Baileys, too!
Meanwhile our boat was making a steady circuit of the bay. The purpose of these tours is to observe the wealth of shellfish rafts in the Ria de Arousa. Galicia’s estuaries have one of the largest deposits of phytoplankton in the world. The bivalves raised in these exceptional waters grow with record speed. We cruised between the wooden platforms, where mussels, oysters, scallops and spider and king crabs are cultivated.
For me, it was an extraordinary sight, and one I’ll not soon forget. On board, the music had folks up and dancing, but I was content to watch the world glide by. There was one more stop to make before we returned to our hotel that evening, but it’ll have to wait until next week. Have a great weekend and I’ll be back on Monday. Have you been to Santiago de Compostela?
On a trip with many varied and wonderful sights, O Toxa really did come as something of a surprise. I would never have guessed that the Galician coastline came with such variety, though we’ve flown over parts of it many times on our journeys to and from the UK. The bays cut into the landscape, and only reveal their secrets with gentle exploration. You will know from my previous post that we didn’t arrive until evening, after a long day’s travel, but I was delighted with the view from my room, across the causeway to A Toxa.
(There are captions on all my photos if you open the galleries)
So, after a fine breakfast, it was walking shoes on and off across the causeway to A Toxa. If I tell you that it was a bit like a return to childhood, crossed with forest bathing, you’ll no doubt think me weird, but that’s how it was. We were relaxed and happy and ready to enjoy every encounter, starting with the donkeys.
Donkeys play a part in the mythology of the island, but that comes later. The day was a little overcast, but perfect for breathing in the scents of the forest. We paused for a few moments, just to embrace nature and enjoy the stillness. The trees towered overhead toward a pale blue sky, but at ground level all was green. With just a frolic of golden fern.
But then exuberance took over as we came upon an imaginative children’s playground, complete with Hobbit house. After playing for a while we ventured further into the woods, encountering forest creatures cleverly sculpted from the trees.
But then, the mood changed. O Toxa has been developed into a thermal spa, a playground for grown-ups. Here you can indulge in thalassotherapy in luxurious surroundings. We simply marvelled, and moved on, for there was plenty more to catch the eye.
I was captivated by the Chapel of San Caralampio, also known as the Chapel of Shells because it’s completely covered in scallop shells. They are intended to protect the chapel from the damp, rainy climate, though we scarcely saw a cloud for the duration of our stay. The scallop is the symbol of the Caminho de Santiago. Shells of every description were displayed on stalls beside the Chapel, some of them incorporated into lovely items of jewellery. I was sorely tempted.
The surrounding park is lovely too. I could indulge my passion for hydrangeas and a truly magnificent magnolia. And then there’s the donkey! The story goes that he was such a sorry beast- scrawny and moth eaten- that he was left behind on the island by his owner. Returning some time later the owner was astonished to find a healthy, handsome creature. He had been rolling in the mud on the shoreline and his miraculous recovery was attributed to this. The healing properties of the mud have been made use of ever since, and a small factory was set up to turn the mud into soap and bath salts. Today it’s a rather charming museum, telling their history as well as selling the products.
We wandered around the outskirts of the spa, with sweeping views out to sea. A path leads back towards the woods, via a small retail area. Shell bracelets, t-shirts, beachwear, with space for a quiet drink. I didn’t feel the need of a spa treatment, though the mineral content of the sea water is held to be highly beneficial, but I did love the surroundings.
And then we were on the shoreline, examining the sands beneath our feet. We were persuaded to taste the fresh, salty samphire, just as it grew, naturally on the beach. A taste experience.
And then we were back at the causeway, with most of the day still to come, and a boating ‘treat’ that wasn’t. Thank goodness there was cake! But I’ll save that for next time.
Let’s share a few walks together. Thanks everybody!
Humble apologies because I missed Jude’s walk last week. Hopefully you all saw this :
I can’t thank Caminhadas Smile enough for the experiences we shared. I very much doubt that we’d have found some of these places on our own. On Thursday I’ll continue the tour, and I hope you can join me. Till then, take good care!
Baiona came as a rather wonderful surprise to me. We had already been travelling for much of the day and it was late afternoon as our coach swept around the huge bay of Vigo and came to a standstill below Monterreal castle. The estuary is a natural environment and a paradise for bird watchers and nature lovers. Sadly for us, we had but a brief stop here. Just time enough to follow the route around the fortress walls and look out towards the Cíes Islands, a destination for much later in our trip.
Out in the bay you can see the replica of La Pinta, one of Columbus’ ships, which was said to have made land first in Baiona on its return from the New World in 1493, having discovered America. A little incongruous alongside the superyachts.
This granite fortress sits on the Monte Boi peninsula. Though the castle dates from the 12th century, remains have been found on the site from as early as the 2nd century BC. Celts, Phoenicians, Romans, Visigoths and Muslims all have left their mark.
Today, among other things, it’s a jump off point for the lovely islands that lie offshore. If you’re really lucky you can stay in the parador and overlook this whole panorama. And maybe wander the streets of the historical quarter in the evening, appreciating the fine food on offer. The more energetic can climb to the heights of the Virgin of the Rock, or start their Camino to Santiago de Compostela. Me, I only had time to enjoy the wonderful view.
And then, you’ve guessed it, back on the coach to our final destination of the day- a place called O Grove, with its causeway across to A Toxa. That’s where I’ll be taking you on Monday. Enjoy your weekend!
Let’s start gently. Over 4 days we had a packed schedule, travelling north to Monção at the border with Spain and on up the Spanish coast into Galicia. The itinerary included walking a short stretch of the Camino, culminating in Santiago de Compostela, and a visit to the Ilhas de Cíes, of which I had never heard, but which I will never forget. We were travelling with the small and friendly Portuguese company, Caminhada Smile and, believe me, we did!
First though, we picked up a local guide in Valença do Minho- a delightful young woman called Ines, who was to escort us on our many excursions. In retrospect I was a little sad not to have seen more of Valença itself, for it has a fine historic quarter with a bridge across to Tui, on the Spanish side, but time was scarce and we headed straight to much quieter and more sedate Monção. Not that there’s anything wrong with sedate when the sun beams down on the wide expanse of river and tourists are few. Our little group of 16 attracted curious looks from the locals- always a good sign.
Our primary reason for being there was a lunch stop at the improbably named Cuckoo restaurant. Irrespective of the name, I have to say that it was probably the best Portuguese meal with a group that I have experienced in many years. The Carne a Portuguesa was superb! (cubes of delicious pork with roast potatoes and a smattering of pickled vegetables). Suffice it to say that, when it came to dessert, I only had room for melon. A most unusual occurrence.
But first, of course, we needed a walk. Not a long walk, because it was hot, and we were hungry, having been on the coach from Lisbon since early morning. Ines led us through the town to the fortress walls, high above the Minho. A boardwalk stretched down to the river and continued for some distance along its banks.
We idled down the boardwalk, looking up at the fortress and seeking shade from the overhanging trees.
An archway with a touch of humour provided an alternative route.
And then, stomachs full, we were back on the coach for the short journey to the Palácio da Brejoeira. Primarily a wine estate of 18 hectares, the palace dates from the early 19th century and has been classified as a National Monument since 1910. Their renowned product is Alvarinho wine and the guided tour includes a tasting.
The building is majestic in scale and the interior celebrates azulejos in all their glory.
We followed the guide silently, inspecting the many treasures with awe. My gaze strayed to the shuttered windows and beyond, to the carefully maintained lawn with its guardian trees.
Then we were led to the rear of the house, where we wandered in the unhurried shade of ancient trees. The heat filtered through scarcely rustling leaves. A duet of swans sprayed the fountain vigorously, startling in the silence.
It was a lovely spot and I could have lingered, smelling the roses, but we were moving on to the dimness of the wine caves. By contrast the vineyards shimmered in sunlight, and we were soon back to the house for the wine tasting.
On the coach once more, and onwards to the coast, the scenery lush and very different from my Algarve hills. I loved the mountain backdrop and the villages with stone grain stores. We were heading for Baiona and the day was far from over, but I’ll save that for next time.
Meanwhile we’ll share some walks. Thanks, everybody!
Isn’t New Zealand a beautiful place? Karen takes us hunting :
I’ll hopefully be back on Thursday with beautiful Baiona. Otherwise I’ll still be writing about this trip at Christmas (just a tiny exaggeration). Look forward to seeing you then. Take good care!
I’m continuing the watery theme this week. The River Aire runs through Leeds city centre, and joins with the Leeds-Liverpool canal, so there’s plenty of opportunity for water gazing, which I love to do. The character of the canal changes with its surroundings. On the one hand you have the old warehouses, used to store goods in Leeds industrial heyday. Most now have been converted into a smarter version of themselves, to complement the new builds and high rise that are part of any modern city. But you don’t have to wander too far in either direction to experience calm and quiet, and nature reclaiming her own.
Remnants of railway history linger, even as the city expands and develops. It seems there’s no end to the accommodation needed but, in its own way, Leeds is trying to include its past. The High Line, still in its infancy but modelled on that in New York, blends towers and tunnels from the railway era with grasses and just a little designer chic. While the smart, new trains trundle past.
The swans were a little way distant, but a bold squirrel gave me a knowing look and, overhead, blossom and berries dangled.
At Granary Wharf, close by the railway station, there are always narrowboats to provide diversion. It’s grim up north? Not always!
The canal joins the river and flows gently beneath bridges along to the Royal Armouries. On Bank Holidays, and throughout the summer break, a free entertainment programme takes place. Fun for all!
As evening falls, Leeds takes on a different character altogether. Lively bars and innovative new restaurants open their doors. And around the High Line an air of mystery develops. The former railway towers and tunnels feel like something from the Twilight Zone.
I could never live there but, if you set aside the shopping malls, Leeds isn’t such a bad place to roam. And, occasionally, there’s cake!
With a delicious chocolate topping
But there are always walks to share:
I’ve really enjoyed looking at Hoi An with Teresa :
That’s it from Leeds, for a little while. The son’s house has been knocked apart and reassembled, hopefully without the damp issues and with a smart new kitchen. I’ve been back in the Algarve for a few weeks, but I’m about to travel north into Spain. I might manage to squeeze a medley in before I go but, more likely, I’ll be back in 2 weeks with a walk. Take good care till then!
Once again, I’m having fun. Will you indulge me? I fell in love with Teagan’s improbable cat pose and then Robbie’s Kit Cat Club came along. Are you following Dan’s Thursday Doors Writing Challenge? Or better yet, taking part? I am.
I knew that part of our weekend in England would be taken up with DIY. It was more challenging than we expected, and it certainly filled a rainy day. As a reward, or simply a bit of light relief, my son dutifully Googled ‘bluebell woods’ when I expressed a desire to see some. He came up with 3 options- Ilkley, where he works part of the week, the woods at Kirkstall in Leeds, and my hot favourite, the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. It’s a number of years since I’ve been to YSP and it was the perfect time of year for rhododendrons. But life is often about compromise. Ilkley was hosting a show and would be crowded. The grandson wanted to meet some mates in the afternoon, and the new hybrid car needed charging so, nearby Kirkstall it was. I’ll have to rely on Margaret to visit YSP for me? With the car on charge at the shopping mall, we were off in search of bluebells….
(There are captions on the photos if you open the galleries)
I’m not hard to please. Take me to water and let me gaze. The towpath was Bank Holiday Monday busy with joggers and dogwalkers, but pleasantly so. Who could blame them for enjoying the dry weather? Across the field, trains rushed up and down the tracks but, close at hand, the swan glided serenely among the reeds.
No wonder the boatman was smiling. Such a nice way to see the world. Unless, of course, you’re a novice at locks. We came upon one unfortunate couple who had attracted quite an audience. The water didn’t appear to be going where they wanted it. Their young Great Dane was tethered to a lock gate, bemused by the whole process. My daughter-in-law gave him a cuddle.
It was a happy scene, with families picnicking and dogs splashing gleefully in the water. On the far shore we could catch glimpses of a bluebell haze, in the woods. Eventually we crossed the lock and headed into them.
I’ll not pretend that they’re the best bluebell woods in the world, nor that these are great photos. In my head the woods were a haze of blue, but the reality doesn’t quite live up to the vision. Yet the sunlight dancing through that woodland trail gladdened my heart. What’s better than spending time with those you love?
A soft blue carpet
The canal idled beside us, bluebells and wild garlic mingling at our feet. And, on the water, a female swan guarded the nest, while her mate kept watch, close by.
We crossed back over the canal and I spotted a nice looking pub, with tables overlooking the water. I’ve bookmarked it for a future trip.
The funniest thing! When we got back ‘home’, I observed that James’ garden was full of bluebells, as were many of the neighbours. And a rather wonderful lilac dangled over the fence.
No cake this week! I was extremely virtuous, in that respect, during my stay in Leeds. I’ve made up for it since I came back. Meanwhile, let’s share some walks. Thanks, everyone!
Jude meanders peacefully beside the River Frome, in Dorchester :
Our recent trip to the Azores was bookended by a night in Lisbon, before flying from that airport. It’s a city that I love, in small doses. A morning by the Rio Tejo was just enough to enjoy a little culture and a breath of ocean air. I had it in mind to visit MAAT, a former electricity generating power station turned Art Gallery.
We caught the bus out to Belém -always an interesting ride- crossed the road and we could see the Tejo at the end of the street. At this point in its journey it is a mighty river, having dawdled its way across Portugal.
The museum is in two parts- a new modern art gallery and the original generating plant. Intriguingly the path climbs up over the modern part and back down to the riverside, creating some wonderful vistas.
It feels so different by the water, away from the heart of the bustling city. And then we ventured inside.
It’s a huge space, my favourite piece being something that looks like stacking shelves in a library but, in close up, consists of blocks of wood, stapled across the surface. Leaving the art gallery you walk to the adjoining building and enter via the former coal yard. Coal was delivered by boat and offloaded here, to power the immense machinery.
And now to the technical part. This thermoelectric power station was active from 1909 to 1972 and guaranteed the supply of electricity to the greater Lisbon area. Inside, the boilers, condensers and turbogenerators are preserved in their original condition. It’s an overwhelming experience, tamed to suit the purposes of a museum.
It’s an impressive building and wonderful to see it preserved. My husband used to work in the industry and for him they were everyday sights, but I admit to being a little overawed.
I’m back in the Algarve now, contemplating the next adventure. Meanwhile, I have some catching up to do and a few shares from my brief time in England. It was mostly DIY, and I know you don’t want to see that, but there were some golden moments with family. And lots of bluebells! Next week. Take care till then xx
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