Santiago de Compostella and the Way of St James

Sir Walter Raleigh wrote:

Give me my scallop shell of quiet;
My staff of faith to walk upon;
My scrip of joy, immortal diet;
My bottle of salvation;
My gown of glory (hope’s true gage);
And then I’ll take my pilgrimage.

Santiago de Compostela is the capital of the autonomous region of Galicia and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It is located in the most northwest region of Spain in the Province of A Coruña and it was the European City of Culture for the year 2000.

I didn’t know this but after Jerusalem and Rome it is the third most holy city in Christendom and the cathedral is the destination today, as it has been throughout history, of the important 9^th  century medieval pilgrimage route, the Way of St. James.  Santiago is such an important pilgrimage destination because it is considered the burial site of the apostle, James the Great and legend holds that St. James’s remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city.

People continue to take the Pilgrim trail and there were many here today who could be identified by the pilgrim staff and the symbol of the scallop shell.   The shell is the traditional symbol of the pilgrimage because the grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represent the various routes that pilgrims travelled, all eventually arriving at a single destination.  It is also symbolic of the pilgrim because just as the waves of the ocean wash scallop shells up on the shores of Galicia, God’s hand also guides the pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

There was certainly no mistaking that this is a very holy city indeed and the route to the Cathedral was lined with churches, monasteries and seminaries and finally we emerged into the central square, the Praza de Obradoiro, where the Cathedral, which is depicted on Spanish eurocent coins, loomed high above in a most spectacular and impressive way.  Inside, the Cathedral is nearly a hundred metres long and over twenty metres high and is the largest Romanesque church in Spain as well as being one of the biggest in Europe.

We walked for a while through the ancient streets and through a quaint little green open space and then our thoughts turned to food so we returned to the city and upon our recommendation, from our previous visit, went to the Restaurante de Buen Pulpo for a tapas lunch.  Disappointingly there were no sardines that we had told everyone about, but we chose instead calamari, clams, Galician cod, tortilla and salad and some Estrella Galicia of course.   The food was reasonably priced and tasted divine and afterwards we left the little restaurant and continued to explore some more of the old city and after a couple of hours I felt confident enough to declare to myself that this one of the nicest places that I have ever visited.

Because of its Celtic roots Galicia doesn’t have sombreros or flamenco or even bull fighting and in a side street adjacent to the cathedral there was a man squeezing the life out of some bagpipes that sounded as though he was castrating an extremely uncooperative cat.  It was excruciatingly painful so we moved on and walked around the streets for a second time.  It is an interesting fact that Galicia has a culture, which is both unique and distinct from the rest of Spain, and the core of this difference is centred upon Galicia’s identity as a Celtic, rather than a Latin or Hispanic sub nation.  Galicia along with Andalusia, Catalonia and the Basque Country are acknowledged as independent historical nationalities under the Spanish Constitution and as a consequence enjoy special rights and privileges.

We made a second circuit of the ancient city and this was when we became of the hypnotic appeal of retail outlets for the girls.  There was a full range of shops from expensive boutiques to cheap market stalls but all of them just drew them in by a sort of invisible tractor beam.  They didn’t need anything or even want anything, they weren’t going to buy anything but they just couldn’t help being sucked in to jewelers or shoe shops just to take a look around.  That is the difference between men and women and shops, women browse and men are purposeful and the two styles are completely irreconcilable.

After a final drink in Santiago de Compostella at a terrace garden bar we returned to the car park and drove with great expectation the twenty kilometres along the Autopista del Atlantico back to Pontescures and the Hotel Corona de Galicia.  Upon arrival it seemed that (surprise, surprise) the bathroom problem had been rectified and we checked into our rooms on the fourth floor.

Excuses, Lies and Double Bookings

There was a brand new motorway all the way from the coast to the town of Padrón (EU money I expect) and while I enjoyed the open road and the drive all of my companions took the opportunity to catch up on lost sleep.  After half an hour we were in Pontescures and we pulled into the car park  of the Hotel Corona de Galicia and presented ourselves at reception.

This was where we stayed in July and I had fully recommended this hotel to the travel club but we were in for a nasty shock.  The owner explained that there was a problem with our rooms and the plumber was on his way but for tonight we would have to stay in alternative accommodation.  This was a pack of lies of course and he was simply double booked but this didn’t concern me because I was sure that alternative accommodation surely meant an upgrade.  How wrong I was!

He drove us to an edge of town truck stop hostel and after promising a complimentary meal as compensation drove away and left us in at the side of the busy highway.  The place was a complete dump and within a few minutes I knew that the Sue and Christine were not very happy.  I thought a beer or two might improve the situation and we found a little restaurant next door but they only went for the orange juice option and I knew that without alcohol this was most unlikely to improve their mood and it was a forlorn hope.  I phoned the original hotel, explained that this was unacceptable and requested something more appropriate to our status.

The restaurant, by the way, was an interesting little place and provided us with a plate of mussels as an appetizer in the hope of tempting us to a full meal later but they were cold and inedible and no one was in the mood anyway so I had to surreptitiously wrap them in tissues under the table and the only place I could find to dispose of them was in the bin in the disabled toilets and then we left.  I really hope that they emptied that bin the next day because believe me it was really going to smell.

We didn’t check out of the place in the conventional way, we sneaked down the stairs, left the keys on the desk and made as quick a getaway as we possibly could.  This was like the great escape and we selected tunnel Enrique, got to the car without detection but then got held up by traffic and the hotel owner came to the door and caught us just as we hit the road and speeded off back to Pontescures and the double booked hotel.

The owner didn’t want us hanging around there too long in case we exposed his faulty plumbing deception and he took us immediately to nearby Padrón and to a much more acceptable hotel with spacious rooms and clean linen and we were all happier about that.

This had spoilt the day a little but we went into town and found a very nice bar with pavement tables where after beer and wine the situation began to improve and we started to see the funny side of things and at least we had a free meal to look forward to tomorrow.

We stayed out longer than we had planned and it was late when we went to bed and we were all so tired that we didn’t really get to appreciate the really nice rooms in the alternative hotel.

The Year of the Cat

In the morning there was some disappointing cloud over the hills in the distance but I was much happier when I was able to confirm that these were away to the north and today we were planning to drive south into neighbouring Portugal.

Because it was about a hundred kilometres to the border we took the direct route south down the E1 motorway, the Autopista del Atlantico.  I usually try to steer clear of the motorways because of the tolls and although this was costing a couple of euros at worryingly regular intervals it was a good decision because it was a nice easy road to drive without a great deal of traffic, probably because everyone else was doing what I usually do and avoiding the tolls and using the congested coast road instead.  And it was an attractive route as well that took us through green pine forests and spectacular rural scenery with occasional glimpses of the azure blue sea.

The coast of this green corner of the Iberian Peninsula is known as the “Costa do Marisco” which translates as the seafood coast and the ninety-thousand fishermen from the Galician coastal ports provide all of Spain with fifty per cent of its fish and that is quite a lot because, after the Portuguese, the Spanish eat more fish per head than anyone else in Europe.

The motorway took us first past Pontevedra and over a suspension bridge and past the city of Vigo, which is the largest fishing port in Spain and finally to Tui, the last city in Galicia, before crossing the River Minho into Portugal.  We had our passports ready but they weren’t required and we drove effortlessly into another European country, left the motorway and drove down the south bank of the river and on towards the coast.  After the motorway the quality of the road surface deteriorated but it was enjoyable motoring and there weren’t too many cars about.

After a short while we came to Caminha, which is an ancient fortress town overlooking the river Minho and is rich in historical and architectural importance. It didn’t look too promising down on the river but a short walk to the centre revealed a most appealing town with manorial houses and medieval defensive walls, a Gothic church, and a very attractive main square with cafés and a 15th century clock tower, which was sadly covered in tarpaulin while they carried out repairs.

Especially interesting were the houses with colourful tiled walls in bright blues, greens and yellows.  There was one of those old fashioned hardware stores that you rarely see in Europe anymore and all of the houses had metal balconies that reminded me of pictures of Latin South America and Cuba.  Portugal is one of the poorest countries in Europe, and behind the tiled walls we could see that the houses were made of tin, but it is the seventh safest country in the world and the fourth biggest consumer of wine, after France, Italy and Germany, and so we choose a table at a café to help them maintain this statistic.

The place had an easy ambiance and a lazy appeal that made us reluctant to leave but there were other places to see so we returned to the car and moved on.  But not very far because just a few kilometres away at the fishing village of Vila Praia de Ancora we stopped again and scrambled over the rocks and down to the Atlantic Ocean, which was fresh and clean and the waves rolled in and crashed over the defensive line of rocks and threw salty spray up into the air.  There were deep rock pools alive with creatures that reminded me of family holidays in Cornwall and seagulls flew overhead and kept scanning the shoreline in search of lunch.

Next stop was the busy town of Viana do Castelo, which is spread along the north bank of the Lima estuary and is famous for its handicrafts and colourful regional costumes.  I carefully parked the car and we walked through the fishermen’s quarter where the restaurants were all serving rustic helpings of fresh fish to the men who had recently come in from the sea.  In the main square were the churches and the convents and the town hall and down a side street we selected a little restaurant and ate more fish at a pavement table and watched the people of the town going about their business.

It was early afternoon and really quite hot and the town had a soporific feel that made me think of my favourite Al Stewart song ‘Year of the Cat’:

‘She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running like a watercolour in the rain, don’t bother asking for explanation she’ll just tell you she came from the Year of the Cat… By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls there’s a hidden door she leads you to, these days she says I feel my life is like a river running through, the Year of the Cat’

And then we moved on again, in land this time towards the ancient town of Ponte de Lima with a bridge that crosses the River Lima into the town that has twenty-four arches, four of which on the south bank are the original Roman construction.  It was really hot now and we walked across the bridge and watched some men optimistically trying to catch the huge carp that we could see clearly swimming in the water below and teasing the men on the bridge above.  They were big fish and had been around a long time so I don’t think they were going to get caught this afternoon.  Before we left we had a drink at a shabby roadside bar under the welcome shade of strategically placed umbrellas and then we left and returned to the motorway for the drive back to Spain.

This was a really relaxing drive as we travelled along the elevated sections of the motorway at the same height as the tops of the pine trees we admired the views all around.  Galicia has preserved dense Atlantic forests where wildlife is commonly found and is relatively unpolluted.  The untouched countryside is composed of green hills, steep cliffs and estuaries and is very different from what is traditionally imagined as typical Spanish landscape.   An important geographical feature of Galicia is the presence of many fjord-like indentations on the coast.  These are called rías and are divided into the Rías Altas, and the Rías Baixas and they are important for fishing, and make the entire coastline an important marine area. They also make for long journeys because the roads follow the coast and seem to go on endlessly.

The reason for driving to A Toxa was simply to see its only famous tourist attraction; the small twelfth century church of San Caralampio set in beautiful gardens and which is completely covered in scallop shells.  We crossed the bridge from O Grove to the island and by a combination of a stroke of luck and by driving the wrong way down a one way street we found it almost immediately.  It had been a long way to drive but it was really worth it and the church looked magnificent in the late afternoon sun and framed against a perfect blue sky with its gleaming scallop shells bleached white by the sun.

We left A Toxa and followed the coast road, which was tortuously slow drive through all of the little coastal towns on the way and culminating in a massive traffic jam in the scruffy town of Villagarcia de Arosa.   It had been a long but rewarding day and I was really pleased to reach the hotel bar for a glass of cold beer and a plate or two of appetizers before eating once again in the hotel.  The restaurant was interesting, there was a section for the coach party and a separate part for others including a table for a team of road workers who arrived late, still in their work cloths, and quickly demolished plates of specially prepared food.  We had fish again of course, a last drink and a game of cards in the hotel lounge in the company of the Spanish coach party from Alicante.

Competition Success and a Holy City

In 1998 I won a competition in the Times newspaper for an all expenses paid weekend to a chateaux in Cahors in France.  This was the result of answering three simple questions about the Apostle Saint James and the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostela, which were about pilgrimages and seashells.  I was glad that I knew the answers and ever since had the place on my ‘to visit’ list.

Santiago de Compostela is the capital of autonomous region of Galicia and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It is located in the most northwest region of Spain in the Province of A Coruña and was the European City of Culture for the year 2000. After Jerusalem and Rome it is the third most holy city in Chrisendom and the cathedral is the destination today, as it has been throughout history, of the important ninth century medieval pilgrimage route, the Way of St. James.  Santiago is such an important pilgrimage destination because it is considered the burial site of the apostle, James the Great and legend holds that St. James’s remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city.

People continue to take the Pilgrim trail and there were many here today who could be identified by the pilgrim staff and the symbol of the scallop shell.   The shell is the traditional symbol of the pilgrimage because the grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represent the various routes that pilgrims travelled, all eventually arriving at a single destination.  It is also symbolic of the pilgrim because just as the waves of the ocean wash scallop shells up on the shores of Galicia, God’s hand also guides the pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

There was certainly no mistaking that this is a very holy city indeed and the route to the Cathedral was lined with churches, monasteries and seminaries and finally we emerged into the central square, Praza de Obradoiro, where the Cathedral (which is depicted on Spanish eurocent coins) loomed high above in a most spectacular and impressive way.  Inside, the Cathedral is nearly a hundred metres long and over twenty metres high and is the largest Romanesque church in Spain as well as being one of the biggest in Europe.

We had a good look around but it was a approaching lunch time and so we declined to join the long queue of pilgrims and visitors who were waiting in line to visit the crypt and see the box that contains the bones and relics of St James and left by a side door that opened onto another remarkable courtyard that was surrounded by huge medieval buildings and magnificent statues.  It was hot now and time for a beer so we found a place in the shade and enjoyed a first glass of Estrella Galicia, a local brew from the city of A Coruña on the north coast and then we moved on and disappeared inside the narrow side streets surrounding the cathedral to find somewhere traditional to eat and almost immediately came across the Restaurante de Buen Pulpo that had a tempting tapas menu on the wall outside.

This was what I had been looking for unsuccessfully on my last visit to Spain and we hung around until an outside table became available and when one did occupied it immediately and began the difficult task of menu selection.  We decided upon sardines, calamari, tortilla and salad and some more Estrella Galicia of course.   The food was reasonably priced and tasted divine and afterwards we left the little restaurant and continued to explore some more of the old city and after a couple of hours I felt confident to declare this one of the nicest places that I have ever visited.

A Life in a Year – 28th September, Santiago de Compostella and the Way of St James

Sir Walter Raleigh wrote:

Give me my scallop shell of quiet;
My staff of faith to walk upon;
My scrip of joy, immortal diet;
My bottle of salvation;
My gown of glory (hope’s true gage);
And then I’ll take my pilgrimage.

Santiago de Compostela is the capital of the autonomous region of Galicia and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It is located in the most northwest region of Spain in the Province of A Coruña and it was the European City of Culture for the year 2000.  I didn’t know this but after Jerusalem and Rome it is the third most holy city in Christendom and the cathedral is the destination today, as it has been throughout history, of the important 9^th  century medieval pilgrimage route, the Way of St. James.  Santiago is such an important pilgrimage destination because it is considered the burial site of the apostle, James the Great and legend holds that St. James’s remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city.

People continue to take the Pilgrim trail and there were many here today who could be identified by the pilgrim staff and the symbol of the scallop shell.   The shell is the traditional symbol of the pilgrimage because the grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represent the various routes that pilgrims travelled, all eventually arriving at a single destination.  It is also symbolic of the pilgrim because just as the waves of the ocean wash scallop shells up on the shores of Galicia, God’s hand also guides the pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

There was certainly no mistaking that this is a very holy city indeed and the route to the Cathedral was lined with churches, monasteries and seminaries and finally we emerged into the central square, the Praza de Obradoiro, where the Cathedral, which is depicted on Spanish eurocent coins, loomed high above in a most spectacular and impressive way.  Inside, the Cathedral is nearly a hundred metres long and over twenty metres high and is the largest Romanesque church in Spain as well as being one of the biggest in Europe. 

We walked for a while through the ancient streets and through a quaint little green open space and then our thoughts turned to food so we returned to the city and upon our recommendation, from our previous visit, went to the Restaurante de Buen Pulpo for a tapas lunch.  Disappointingly there were no sardines that we had told everyone about, but we chose instead calamari, clams, Galician cod, tortilla and salad and some Estrella Galicia of course.   The food was reasonably priced and tasted divine and afterwards we left the little restaurant and continued to explore some more of the old city and after a couple of hours I felt confident enough to declare to myself that this one of the nicest places that I have ever visited. 

Because of its Celtic roots Galicia doesn’t have sombreros or flamenco or even bull fighting and in a side street adjacent to the cathedral there was a man squeezing the life out of some bagpipes that sounded as though he was castrating an extremely uncooperative cat.  It was excruciatingly painful so we moved on and walked around the streets for a second time.  It is an interesting fact that Galicia has a culture, which is both unique and distinct from the rest of Spain, and the core of this difference is centred upon Galicia’s identity as a Celtic, rather than a Latin or Hispanic sub nation.  Galicia along with Andalusia, Catalonia and the Basque Country are acknowledged as independent historical nationalities under the Spanish Constitution and as a consequence enjoy special rights and privileges.

We made a second circuit of the ancient city and this was when we became of the hypnotic appeal of retail outlets for the girls.  There was a full range of shops from expensive boutiques to cheap market stalls but all of them just drew them in by a sort of invisible tractor beam.  They didn’t need anything or even want anything, they weren’t going to buy anything but they just couldn’t help being sucked in to jewelers or shoe shops just to take a look around.  That is the difference between men and women and shops, women browse and men are purposeful and the two styles are completely irreconcilable.

After a final drink in Santiago de Compostella at a terrace garden bar we returned to the car park and drove with great expectation the twenty kilometres along the Autopista del Atlantico back to Pontescures and the Hotel Corona de Galicia.  Upon arrival it seemed that (surprise, surprise) the bathroom problem had been rectified and we checked into our rooms on the fourth floor.

A Life in a Year – 27th September, Excuses, Lies and Double Bookings

There was a brand new motorway all the way from the coast to the town of Padrón (EU money I expect) and while I enjoyed the open road and the drive all of my companions took the opportunity to catch up on lost sleep.  After half an hour we were in Pontescures and we pulled into the car park  of the Hotel Corona de Galicia and presented ourselves at reception.  This was where we stayed in July and I had fully recommended this hotel to the travel club but we were in for a nasty shock.

The owner explained that there was a problem with our rooms and the plumber was on his way but for tonight we would have to stay in alternative accommodation.  This was a pack of lies of course and he was simply double booked but this didn’t concern me because I was sure that alternative accommodation surely meant an upgrade.  How wrong I was.

He drove us to an edge of town truck stop hostel and after promising a complimentary meal as compensation drove away and left us in at the side of the busy highway.  The place was a complete dump and within a few minutes I knew that the Sue and Christine were not very happy.

I thought a beer or two might improve the situation and we found a little restaurant next door but they only went for the orange juice option and I knew that without alcohol this was most unlikely to improve their mood and it was a forlorn hope.  I phoned the original hotel, explained that this was unacceptable and requested something more appropriate to our status.

The restaurant, by the way, was an interesting little place and provided us with a plate of mussels as an appetizer in the hope of tempting us to a full meal later but they were cold and inedible and no one was in the mood anyway so I had to surreptitiously wrap them in tissues under the table and the only place I could find to dispose of them was in the bin in the disabled toilets and then we left.  I really hope that they emptied that bin the next day because believe me it was really going to smell.

We didn’t check out of the place in the conventional way, we sneaked down the stairs, left the keys on the desk and made as quick a getaway as we possibly could.  This was like the great escape and we selected tunnel Enrique, got to the car without detection but then got held up by traffic and the hotel owner came to the door and caught us just as we hit the road and sped off back to Pontescures and the double booked hotel.

The owner didn’t want us hanging around there too long in case we exposed his faulty plumbing deception and he took us immediately to nearby Padrón and to a much more acceptable hotel with spacious rooms and clean linen and we were all happier about that.

This had spoilt the day a little but we went into town and found a very nice bar with pavement tables where after beer and wine the situation began to improve and we started to see the funny side of things and at least we had a free meal to look forward to tomorrow.  We stayed out longer than we had planned and it was late when we went to bed and we were all so tired that we didn’t really get to appreciate the really nice rooms in the alternative hotel.

A Life in a Year – 25th July, The Year of the Cat

In the morning there was some disappointing cloud over the hills in the distance but I was much happier when I was able to confirm that these were away to the north and today we were planning to drive south into neighbouring Portugal.

Because it was about a hundred kilometres to the border we took the direct route south down the E1 motorway, the Autopista del Atlantico.  I usually try to steer clear of the motorways because of the tolls and although this was costing a couple of euros at worryingly regular intervals it was a good decision because it was a nice easy road to drive without a great deal of traffic, probably because everyone else was doing what I usually do and avoiding the tolls and using the congested coast road instead.  And it was an attractive route as well that took us through green pine forests and spectacular rural scenery with occasional glimpses of the azure blue sea.  The coast of this green corner of the Iberian Peninsula is known as the “Costa do Marisco” which translates as the seafood coast and the ninety-thousand fishermen from the Galician coastal ports provide all of Spain with fifty per cent of its fish and that is quite a lot because, after the Portuguese, the Spanish eat more fish per head than anyone else in Europe.  

The motorway took us first past Pontevedra and over a suspension bridge and past the city of Vigo, which is the largest fishing port in Spain and finally to Tui, the last city in Galicia, before crossing the River Minho into Portugal.  We had our passports ready but they weren’t required and we drove effortlessly into another European country, left the motorway and drove down the south bank of the river and on towards the coast.  After the motorway the quality of the road surface deteriorated on the coast road but it was enjoyable motoring and there weren’t too many cars about.

After a short while we came to Caminha, which is an ancient fortress town overlooking the river Minho and is rich in historical and architectural importance. It didn’t look too promising down on the river but a short walk to the centre revealed a most appealing town with manorial houses and medieval defensive walls, a Gothic church, and a very attractive main square with cafés and a 15th century clock tower, which was sadly covered in tarpaulin while they carried out repairs.  Especially interesting were the houses with colourful tiled walls in bright blues, greens and yellows.  There was one of those old fashioned hardware stores that you rarely see in Europe anymore and all of the houses had metal balconies that reminded me of pictures of Latin South America and Cuba.  Portugal is one of the poorest countries in Europe, and behind the tiled walls we could see that the houses were made of tin, but it is the seventh safest country in the world and the fourth biggest consumer of wine, after France, Italy and Germany, and so we choose a table at a café to help them maintain this statistic.

The place had an easy ambiance and a lazy appeal that made us reluctant to leave but there were other places to see so we returned to the car and moved on.  But not very far because just a few kilometres away at the fishing village of Vila Praia de Ancora we stopped again and scrambled over the rocks and down to the Atlantic Ocean, which was fresh and clean and the waves rolled in and crashed over the defensive line of rocks and threw salty spray up into the air.  There were deep rock pools alive with creatures that reminded me of family holidays in Cornwall and seagulls flew overhead and kept scanning the shoreline in search of lunch. 

 

Next stop was the busy town of Viana do Castelo, which is spread along the north bank of the Lima estuary and is famous for its handicrafts and colourful regional costumes.  I carefully parked the car and we walked through the fishermen’s quarter where the restaurants were all serving rustic helpings of fresh fish to the men who had recently come in from the sea.  In the main square were the churches and the convents and the town hall and down a side street we selected a little restaurant and ate more fish at a pavement table and watched the people of the town going about their business.

It was early afternoon and really quite hot and the town had a soporific feel that made me think of my favourite Al Stewart song ‘Year of the Cat’:

‘She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running like a watercolour in the rain, don’t bother asking for explanation she’ll just tell you she came from the Year of the Cat… By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls there’s a hidden door she leads you to, these days she says I feel my life is like a river running through, the Year of the Cat’

And then we moved on again, in land this time towards the ancient town of Ponte de Lima with a bridge that crosses the River Lima into the town that has twenty-four arches, four of which on the south bank are the original Roman construction.  It was really hot now and we walked across the bridge and watched some men optimistically trying to catch the huge carp that we could see clearly swimming in the water below and teasing the men on the bridge above.  They were big fish and had been around a long time so I don’t think they were going to get caught this afternoon.  Before we left we had a drink at a shabby roadside bar under the welcome shade of strategically placed umbrellas and then we left and returned to the motorway for the drive back to Spain.

This was a really relaxing drive as we travelled along the elevated sections of the motorway at the same height as the tops of the pine trees we admired the views all around.  Galicia has preserved dense Atlantic forests where wildlife is commonly found and is relatively unpolluted.  The untouched countryside is composed of green hills, steep cliffs and estuaries and is very different from what is traditionally imagined as typical Spanish landscape.   An important geographical feature of Galicia is the presence of many fjord-like indentations on the coast.  These are called rías and are divided into the Rías Altas, and the Rías Baixas and they are important for fishing, and make the entire coastline an important marine area. They also make for long journeys because the roads follow the coast and seem to go on endlessly.

The reason for driving to A Toxa was simply to see its only famous tourist attraction; the small twelfth century church of San Caralampio set in beautiful gardens and which is completely covered in scallop shells.  We crossed the bridge from O Grove to the island and by a combination of a stroke of luck and by driving the wrong way down a one way street we found it almost immediately.  It had been a long way to drive but it was really worth it and the church looked magnificent in the late afternoon sun and framed against a perfect blue sky with its gleaming scallop shells bleached white by the sun. 

We left A Toxa and followed the coast road, which was tortuously slow drive through all of the little coastal towns on the way and culminating in a massive traffic jam in the scruffy town of Villagarcia de Arosa.   It had been a long but rewarding day and I was really pleased to reach the hotel bar for a glass of cold beer and a plate or two of appetizers before eating once again in the hotel.  The restaurant was interesting, there was a section for the coach party and a separate part for others including a table for a team of road workers who arrived late, still in their work cloths, and quickly demolished plates of specially prepared food.  We had fish again of course, a last drink and a game of cards in the hotel lounge in the company of the Spanish coach party from Alicante.

A Life in a Year – 24th July, Competition Success and a Holy City

In 1998 I won a competition in the Times newspaper for an all expenses paid weekend to a chateaux in Cahors in France.  This was the result of answering three simple questions about the Apostle Saint James and the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostela, which were about pilgrimages and seashells.  I was glad that I knew the answers and ever since had the place on my ‘to visit’ list.

Santiago de Compostela is the capital of autonomous region of Galicia and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It is located in the most northwest region of Spain in the Province of A Coruña and was the European City of Culture for the year 2000. After Jerusalem and Rome it is the third most holy city in Chrisendom and the cathedral is the destination today, as it has been throughout history, of the important 9th century medieval pilgrimage route, the Way of St. James.  Santiago is such an important pilgrimage destination because it is considered the burial site of the apostle, James the Great and legend holds that St. James’s remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city.

People continue to take the Pilgrim trail and there were many here today who could be identified by the pilgrim staff and the symbol of the scallop shell.   The shell is the traditional symbol of the pilgrimage because the grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represent the various routes that pilgrims travelled, all eventually arriving at a single destination.  It is also symbolic of the pilgrim because just as the waves of the ocean wash scallop shells up on the shores of Galicia, God’s hand also guides the pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

There was certainly no mistaking that this is a very holy city indeed and the route to the Cathedral was lined with churches, monasteries and seminaries and finally we emerged into the central square, Praza de Obradoiro, where the Cathedral (which is depicted on Spanish eurocent coins) loomed high above in a most spectacular and impressive way.  Inside, the Cathedral is nearly a hundred metres long and over twenty metres high and is the largest Romanesque church in Spain as well as being one of the biggest in Europe. 

We had a good look around but it was a approaching lunch time and so we declined to join the long queue of pilgrims and visitors who were waiting in line to visit the crypt and see the box that contains the bones and relics of St James and left by a side door that opened onto another remarkable courtyard that was surrounded by huge medieval buildings and magnificent statues.  It was hot now and time for a beer so we found a place in the shade and enjoyed a first glass of Estrella Galicia, a local brew from the city of A Coruña on the north coast and then we moved on and disappeared inside the narrow side streets surrounding the cathedral to find somewhere traditional to eat and almost immediately came across the Restaurante de Buen Pulpo that had a tempting tapas menu on the wall outside.

This was what I had been looking for unsuccessfully on my last visit to Spain and we hung around until an outside table became available and when one did occupied it immediately and began the difficult task of menu selection.  We decided upon sardines, calamari, tortilla and salad and some more Estrella Galicia of course.   The food was reasonably priced and tasted divine and afterwards we left the little restaurant and continued to explore some more of the old city and after a couple of hours I felt confident to declare this one of the nicest places that I have ever visited.