Sad News and Memories of a Good Friend & Neighbor

                               

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I'm going to take time out from book and publishing concerns to pay tribute to a friend whom my husband and I will deeply miss. We received the sad news Friday from our village neighbors in Trasulfe (Galicia, Spain) that our mutual neighbor, Manolo, had passed away, and that the funeral would be Saturday. That has come and gone. If we were there, we would have gone. As it is, we can only send a card to his family, and then, on our next trip in August, go immediately to visit Manolo's widow, Eva, who has become like family. That is how we have always known them: Eva and Manolo. We have never even found out their last names. We first met them 14 years ago in spring of 2005, right after we bought the house. By our fall visit of 2005, we were friends enough to have them over to our house for snacks before leaving. Manolo looking devilish; Eva looking sweet and shy.

And they've always had a touch of elegance about them. This picture was in fall of 2006, when they returned from the bank in Monforte, taking care of some business. They kept a small garden and did some farming, kept vines, and, when we first met them, had a horse, a pig, and some rabbits. But they always dressed smartly for town.

Meanwhile, it became a regular thing to have them over for meriendas a couple of days we left to come home, and during our visits, we spent many a fine evening enjoying bread, cheese, and Eva's superlative home made wine in their galleria or in their dining room, where we sometimes watched comedy shows in Galegan on TV.
At the end of the day, we would often take a walk down the road with them, and then sit on the bench at the end of the lane, listening to all the village gossip in a mixture of Spanish and Galegan.

What happy days these were! In the first picture, Antonio (down the road) is on the right, laughing, and his wife, Maria-Elena, is holding their grandson, Daniel, in front of her. This was in fall of 2007. Daniel is college age now. In the second picture, The woman on the left is Raquel, Eva's sister.

Here is a picture of Raquel in spring of 2007 and one each of Manolo and Eva in fall of 2008.

This is how I like to think of them — so full of gentle humor and genuine good will for other people. Always full of laughter.

We used to go to fiestas with Eva and Manolo, too, and also to a couple of the ferias for pulpo (octopus), a great favorite in that area.

One of my sweetest memories of them is at a fiesta when their teen-age granddaughter, Lucia, danced with her grandfather. She doted on him. Above, next to the picture of Eva,  is a picture of Lucia a few years later (2013), after she finished beauty school and was a hair stylist.  (She had just finished trimming and styling my hair.) She was a beautiful teen-ager, but you can see she has grown into a beautiful young woman. In this picture she is in her 20s. (How time does fly.)

Then ill health set in, first for Manolo, who gradually had a combination of heart problems, diabetes, partial deafness, partial glaucoma. Before things got to such dire straights, he had difficulty walking uphill, and then later, walking very much at all. He was still able to make it to our house for meriendas in fall of 2008. But gradually, he stayed inside all the time, and by 2014 he only came to the window.

Meanwhile, Raquel contracted a lung disease that incapacitated her, and she moved in with them. So, Eva became the caretaker for a sick husband and a sick sister, which pretty much confined her to the house, as well. They had help come in, provided for by national health, but Eva was still his primary care-taker. I stopped taking picture of them. They all looked tired and worn out, and in recent weeks, Raquel was mainly bedridden.

Instead, we would go over and spend our free time with Eva and Manolo late in the afternoons, sitting in their galleria, discussing weather, the view, little things about life, just to keep them company. Sometimes I would take cakes, because — ever the gracious host, no matter how ill — Manolo would want us to sample Eva's wine.  On our last visits, four and five weeks ago, he could only whisper, asking Eva to get us some wine. We would head her off and tell her no, we didn't need wine, and she needed to sit down and rest. By then, he would be asleep again in his chair by the window and we would be mainly there for Eva.

We will miss him. Eva is devastated from what our mutual neighbors tell us. They were married over 60 years, and she had been taking care of him for nearly ten. RIP, Manolo. It was truly wonderful to know you. And it still is wonderful to know Eva, whom we will visit as soon as we return.

Back in Beautiful Galicia

I certainly meant to post before now, but soon after arrival and opening the house, etc., I came down with a cold. Here we are arriving in Santiago: True to recent trips, I took pictures of surroundings, etc. but got so engrossed in conversations with friends I forgot to take THEIR pictures. Still, here is a picture of my husband's feet, camera bag, and carry-on, as we left the airport.


Our friends, Terri & David, picked us up, and since they were leaving on a trip of their own the very next day, we all stayed over at a charming casa rural, "Casa de Amancio" not far from the airport, so that we could drop them off and then drive home. "Casa de Amancio" was delightful, reasonably priced, and tucked away down a winding road so that you felt far removed from the heavily trafficked highway to the airport.

See the fresh flowers?
Fresh flowers were everywhere.

There was no fire that night,
but you can see how lovely one
would be in winte

Rajan and I stayed in the room on the left (behind the outdoor table & chair set). For those staying longer, the room is equipped with a tiny kitchenette: microwave, sink, and fridge (where I was able to keep my glaucoma drops that need to be refrigerated.) We showered after our long flight and then met up with Terri & David in the little lounge above.

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Later, we went in into one of the dining rooms (they had three tucked in different areas.) This one was hard to show because of the lights and mirrors, but it was charming. And we had one of the best and most reasonably priced fish dinners we've had in Galicia. The place also offers a nice breakfast. It also seems to be a popular stop-off for peregrinos (pilgrims) walking El Camino, since it is right on the way to the Cathedral, the pilgrimage destination. The speckles you see on the dining room wall are coins people have left.

Then there was the drive home and we were at our beloved village of Trasulfe at last. We love this place. I write poetry to Trasulfe and the surrounding villages and countryside. It all just fills one with such serenity:

Our patio and a glimpse of our
little field across the sheep path. 

A good view of the potatoes our
neighbor Miguel plants each year. 

This is what it looked like when we arrived twelve days ago. We immediately walked over to our neighbors, Eva, Manolo, & Raquel to say hello. Then Eva walked down to our new Dutch neighbors, and then Elías, who frequently comes from Barcelona, came out and joined us. I was too tired to take pictures, but we all had a fine chat.

The time has really flown by: We had already set up dinner dates to have friend over last Friday evening and Sunday afternoon. Before and after, Rajan and I took turns with head colds (nothing serious, but a little vexing when you want to be out and about visiting!) Still, we sit at our window in the galería, gazing out over coffee in the mornings, and that, too, is nice. Meanwhile, Miguel harvested his potatoes (and gave us a huge bag of them). He had spent the week before helping friends and relatives with their harvest, and then last Saturday morning, four men and a woman came with two tractors and an interesting wagon with metal wheels (along with baskets and small and larger buckets) and made short work of it in about two hours. Here is how the same scene looks now:

The little tree on the left is a
volunteer peach tree that, sadly,
hasn't borne any fruit in 13 years.

Sadly, in our area, while the vegetables have done well, the grapes haven't, due to a too-wet spring, mildew, and recent scorching heat. Other fruits are  delayed, if they fruit at all. The fig tree beyond our wall is usually loaded with figs this time of year. This year they are the size and texture of hard, unripe cherries.

In my next post I'd like to take you on a nice river walk we took in Monforte on one of our "revived" days last week. And after that, I'd like to take you on a little tour of Trasulfe itself.For now I'll leave you gazing on our harvested field, imagining all the things one can cook with potatoes.

Which leads me to ask: What is your favorite potato dish, and do you share your recipe?

The Long and Winding Road

Ever since we returned from Galicia, I've been immersed in immediate activities like:

1) a visit from a special nephew; 2) spreading the word about my new book, Dragonella; 3) getting a TB test and getting fingerprinted in order to teach my volunteer art class at the community center—a new requirement this year, and 4) renewing my driver's license. We've only been home three weeks and two days, and it feels like we've crammed 6 months into that time. 

 1. the visit with our nephew was great, although much too short, and we do hope he'll bring his wife next time. 2. You've probably all heard enough about Dragonella now.  3. Good news:  I don't have TB, and I do have good fingerprints. (The fingerprints were a lot of work, though, because really, I have terrible fingerprints from years of gardening and cleaning house without gloves. I failed my first test two weeks ago. But drinking lots of water daily and rubbing Neutrogena into my finger and thumb tips several times a day did wonders. Fingerprints passed yesterday! Yay.) And 4. I passed my written test yesterday for the driver exam, which was super important: My current license expires in 8 days. (Yes, it's true: Sagittarius is a sign that procrastinates.)

Which brings me, finally, back to our trip to Galicia and the topic of today's post: "The Long and Winding Road." Actually, there are a lot of long and winding roads in Galicia. The picture above is just one of them. Here are a couple more:

But the particular long and winding road of the title goes up, up, up into the mountains to a casa rural and an ancient,  famous monastery—Mosteiro de Santo Estevo. We don't have a picture of that road, because we were too busy having adventures on it.                                              

 

 

Even though this monastery has beckoned to us for years and appears on a poster at our favorite coffee shop in Escairon, Circulo O Saviñao, we've never dared venture up the mountain to see it. Rajan loves to photograph ancient churches, but we both hate narrow roads that drop off on the sides here and there. Then we met Irene and Ian, who have a casa rural—Casa Santo Estevo—right behind the monastery. Since we had lunch with them on an earlier visit in Monforte (our choice), we decided that on our next visit we should go to them.

Casa Santo Estevo: Very old, and very
charming. 

Most of the drive wasn't all that bad, although there are no pictures of it because Rajan was focusing on driving and I was gritting my teeth and gripping the door. (Even "not all that bad" feels kinda bad to me.) But we got to a crucial point that can only be described as a hairpin turn — one going up an incline. Not fun. 

Once arrived, however, we had a lovely visit. The casa rural is beautifully furnished with cosy touches, the rooms all overlooking beautiful vistas. Behind Irene and Ian, you can see vineyards on the far slopes, and Rajan took a couple pictures of the area, vowing to come back and take more. Here's one of us, too, trying to look nonchalant about the hairpin curve waiting for us on the trip back. (These are from my camera, since Rajan hasn't given me the CD of his shots yet.) 

And so we headed back — and missed the turn. Which brings me once again to the title of this post. On the way out, we saw a turn that we were sure could not be IT. We were wrong. So we toodled merrily along for a stretch and then realized the road was 1. getting narrower, 2. getting muddier, 3. winding more and more around shrinking and muddier bends that went who knew where?

Luckily I had put Irene's phone number in my mobile, so we stopped and I called. She said they had seen us go the wrong direction, and Ian was already walking in our direction. When he arrived, she arrived soon after (both by foot). She knew the turn-around spots and directed us — Ian drove, thank goodness! On the way back, he picked her up, and took us past the curve we had dreaded, to a spot in front of the monastery itself, which also was a nice level area from which to drive back home.

And then they gave us a tour of the grounds! We'd been dying to see that building up close, and now there we were, walking around the grounds with friends for tour guides.

This is a very famous monastery. You can see an overall picture of it HERE: The huge rose window is considered the largest rose window in Europe (yes, larger than the ones in Notre Dame in Paris!)

My shots don't give you a view of that window or the entire building — you'll have to go to the site above for that. I did take these to show other aspects of the church/monastery, some parts of which go back to the twelfth century.
(The S in the picture at the left is for "siglo", which is Spanish for century).

Even then, these pics don't begin to convey the size of this building. It's enormous.

Rajan is into black and white photography and wants to go back again with his film camera and take some more pictures of both the building and the spectacular views all around. We have a plan for that, though: Park on a lower level in a good turn-around spot, turn around ahead of time, and walk up the rest of the way.


How about you: Do high, narrow, winding roads make you nervous? Do you like historic buildings? Old churches? Has November been a "crunch" month for you?

Since the big day is tomorrow, have a Happy Thanksgiving. I hope it's filled with love and laughter and good eating. 

An Interesting Series About Galicia

Craig and Melanie and their sweet
dog, Slawit. 

While we are here in Galicia, my postings would be incomplete without reference to friends of ours, one of whom has written a series about living here in Galicia.  Craig and Melanie Briggs actually sold us our house in Trasulfe twelve years ago. (How time flies!) Since then, we've added touches to make our second home more commodious, but we have always enjoyed the house from the get go. And they have always been special friends.

Meanwhile, Craig has written a series of books describing their adventures when they first came to Galicia 14 years ago and, step by step, became more and more immersed in the life of the area, until they decided to live permanently in Galicia. Originally they hail from Huddersfield, England, but 14 years of living here have turned them into Spaniards. They live in a village called Canabal where they have fitted right into village life. (Expats seem to average about one family per village here, and the villages are scattered around larger towns that are hubs of grocery and clothes shopping, etc., not to mention the abundance of fiestas. Canabal is close to Sober, which has a wonderful wine festival each year and often offers classical musical concerts.)

The Books: These are the books in the series:

The very last one, Opportunities Ahead, has just been released.
As you can see from the titles, this is a joyful series, recording how they met challenge after challenge and found that they were not simply "expats" but actually, finally, "home".  This series will give you a good feel for the challenges and adjustments, but also the joys of life in Galicia and what it is like to find a new life in a new setting, speaking a new language.

All of these books are on Amazon, in print and in ebook form. You can go to Amazon.com and Amazon.uk (an maybe other sites as well).  A good way to know your options is to go to the Briggs' travel blog HERE, which makes for delightful reading about certain villages and towns in Galicia and historical signposts that make the area unique.

In addition, a new, humorous posting once a week — The Someday Supplement — includes tidbits of local news and some pretty good local recipes.

You can also reach Craig on Facebook HERE to catch up on latest posts of interesting events and sights.  Happy reading.


How about you? Do you have an author friend who has released a new book lately? Does the author have a site you find particularly interesting? (If yes to either or both, by all means share with us.)

Back in Beautiful Galicia Again

                   

We are back in the place we love in Spain — for 7 weeks this time. Alas, the first week has passed in not very good health: I came down with a case of shingles a few days before we left. Layered, so that I couldn't spread the virus, and armed with medication, I was fairly comfortable on the long, long flight, and rested up the first few days after arrival.  Luckily, as you can see, this is a peaceful place to rest up and muse upon things.


Shingles is active for a couple of weeks: Small welts blister, then crust over, and once they do, you aren't contagious to others (which is why you cover yourself thoroughly during the time that you are.) They are very painful, and in a peculiar way. The wounds are abrasively painful, but your muscles ache, and you feel a general mess. Think of it as grown up chicken pox, because it's the same virus. If you had chicken pox as a kid, you have the virus in you for life and can get shingles as an adult.

I had expected to feel much better this week-end, so off we set with friends for a day trip to Castromayor, a Celtic settlement dating back to 400 b.c. to 100 a.d.

A "castro" is a Celtic hill-fort typical of Galician culture before the Roman conquest. In this case, Castromayor appear to have been concurrent with a Roman settlement nearby, which we did not see for reasons I'll mention later.

Castromayor is a point just off the main pilgrimage road to Santiago de Compostela. In this picture, you can see some pilgrims ahead of us, walking along the main entrance into these ruins. The stone ruins are basically the foundations of the old settlement, built the way "dry walls" are built — i.e. no stucco or cement to hold the stone in place. And while some areas have fallen to rubble, it's amazing to think of these foundations still existing for 2400-plus years. Have a look:

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More pilgrims here and there.
"The Camino" is something I have wanted to walk for some time.  To get a certificate, you have to walk 100 km minimum. Being realistic, though, I don't think I'm going to be able to do anything more than walk parts of it. Actually, that's fine with me. I was excited to be walking on a small stretch of it Saturday—less than a kilometer. But it was the Camino!



Meanwhile, here is a good layout of the entire settlement. Rajan and I were simply amazed.

After that, we went to an interesting town called Portomarin, with full intention to sight-see some more after lunch  But then the aftermath of my shingles was catching up with me. I was suddenly very tired and hurting all over again the way I hurt when I first broke out in shingles.

I made it through lunch — and a delicious lunch it was, at an Italian lunch that really knows how to make penne pasta and pesto sauce, not to mention dough pizza with herbs. But I digress. We came home early, deciding to keep further sightseeing for another day.

At home, Googling it, I learned there really is something referred to as "shingles aftermath". You feel the pain, though not as keenly, but there are no new sores or blisters. You lack energy and may have sore muscles (like flu symptoms) Apparently you can feel this way for months afterwards. I don't think that's going to be my fate--again because I had the shingles shot, which has made everything less severe than it might have been, from everything I've read.

But I am so glad we went! I felt so good until I felt so bad, and I would have felt horrible to postpone and perhaps miss this trip, as our time here is more limited than last time.

Meanwhile, Trasulfe is a great place to recuperate. It never looks the same way twice: This is what it looked last night before the rain and then this morning after the rain.

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How about you? Have you ever gotten a sudden illness you didn't expect to have? Do you make a good patient? (I try to, and I'm usually a "good sport" for about two days, then I get cranky.) Do you like ancient cities? Does ancient history fascinate you?

Cliff & Rock Formations at Praia das Catedrais, Galicia

                                 

For nearly two months I have meant to blog about a week-end trip Rajan and I took with friends Terri & David and their neighbor, Montse, to a town called Foz and the nearby Praia das Catedrais—"Cathedrals Beach in Galegan." The many stretches of beach are on the coast of the Bay of Biscay, essentially the north coast of Galicia and Asturias, and we actually visited Praia das Catedrais last fall for part of one afternoon. We are drawn to beaches, and this collection of beaches has captured our imaginations.

The name "Cathedrals" or "Catedrais" is due to the fact that wind and tides have sculpted the cliffs into shapes that suggest cathedrals. The tides especially have carved out caves that can only be safely entered when the tide is out. Here I am above inside of one of the caves, entranced by the fact that these caves go on and on. You wouldn't want to be trapped inside when the tide comes in.

I'm not sure what kind of rock the cliffs were to lend themselves to being shaped so interestingly by the elements. The rock in every case seems in layers and at angles. Simply beautiful and mysterious.

Here are a few pictures that can give you a feel for how deep some of the caves are, looking in from the outside, and then looking out from the inside.

We were also treated to a solo concert by a man dressed in traditional Galician garb who played his gaito (a Galician type of bagpipe) for quite some time. I don't know if he's always there, but he was there the second day we visited, and apparently he's there often enough to earn the moniker, "the Gaitero Galego."

We were able to visit the area two days in a row, because Montse's brother owns a flat in Foz. (It's currently for sale, so it was un-occupied.) Though Foz is now a beach tourist town, it was once a whaling town, so there is a promenade with a breathtaking view to a history center that tells a little of the town's past. Here are some pictures of our little group and a view from the promenade.

Terri, Montse (with dog I want) me

Rajan and David, deep in conversation

The view.

This man was reading his paper as he walked
So much for the view!  😊😊

There was also a small bird park where I saw black swans for the first time in my life. Swans are perhaps my favorite bird. (Well, peacocks are pretty high up there, too. )I have always thought swans so beautiful, and these were no exception. The light just shimmered off their black feathers. And look at those graceful necks. Naturally they made me think of the ballet, Swan Lake, and Odile, the sorcerer's daughter.

And soon it was time to pack up, find lunch, and return to Monforte and Trasulfe—about a three hour drive. But it was certainly a week-end to remember! Rajan and I want to go back during our next trip to Galicia so he can take some good black-and-white film photos.

How about you? Are you drawn to beaches? Do like swans? Have you ever gone deep into a cave?