Beautiful Galicia, Otra Vez

It's hard to believe that we arrived in Spain 8 days ago. Time flows by in a different way, even though we bring work with us. The trip is long, we arrive exhausted, but we have rituals along the way. The trip is more than 24 hours (door to door) and spans two days. We leave Saturday morning, have a long stretch in Dallas/FW Airport, where we have battered and fried green beans and a glass of beer at TGIF, waiting for our next flight. We arrive in Madrid around 10:30 a.m. Sunday, and have a lunch of smoked salmon, bread, and wine, then fight sleep while waiting for our connection to Santiago de Composetela. We arrive in Santiago a little after 5:00 p.m. and collect baggage. Our friends, Terri and David,  meet us, drive us back to our house in Trasulfe, where we "turn on the house" (electricity, water, gas-tank connections, etc.), then we all go out to eat at a restaurant in Monforte, called O Pincho, where we split delicious raciones. (Rations are smaller than dinners, bigger than tapas.) 

Here's a picture of Terri and David from last summer (we haven't yet gotten around to pictures of friends on this trip.) As soon as we got to O Pincho, we woke up and had a great time catching up on news, eating rations and drinking the house wine. The next morning, waking with the sun (about seven-ish), eating lunch at 2:00 p.m. and dinner around 8:00 or 9:00 p.m., Rajan and I realized we'd fallen into Spanish time right away, with very little jet lag!

Friends and neighbors tell us it was a continually rainy winter, but our first few days were sunny. There was the usual morning mist and intermittent sprinkles through the day that vanished in afternoon heat. Still, we felt free to bring out our patio table and chairs. Then things changed.

The small pasture across the sheep
path in front of our gate. The thin
tree in the foreground is a volunteer
peach tree that so far doesn't bear.

A neighbor's pasture below ours.
See those little fruit trees? The storm
blew all the petals away. No fruit
this year. 

After four beautiful sunshiny days, on Thursday afternoon a fierce hailstorm struck. First thunder rolled and roared for about an hour, and then hail beat down for about thirty minutes. This was the result :

These aren't snow drifts. Just lots and lots of hail.

I wanted to put a video here, with all its great sound effects, but I couldn't get my video to play. (I've sent to Google for help.) But this should give you some idea.

On another note, we've been making a point to walk at least two miles a day. In about a year, I want to walk a portion of the Camino that ends in Santiago. (One item on my bucket list.) I won't be able to make it to Santiago, but a friend informed me that if you walk 100 km, you can get a certificate. That's about sixty miles. Next spring I'd like to do about 30 miles, and then in the fall of 2015 do the second set. So far, a few times we've parked at Gadis, one of the big supermarkets at the edge of Monforte, and walked up to the Parador.

Here's the Parador, seen from the Gadis parking lot.
Below is Gadis, seen from Parador, to give you and
idea of how far we walk.

Gadis, where we parked, seen from the Parador: See the thin pale blue
stripe about two thirds up in the middle? Above the center green? To the
left of that is a teeny yellow sign. That's Gadis.

Other walks have been along country roads. Beautiful nature walks, really. This will give you some 
idea: The picture on the left is an example of most of the scenery here. 

The picture to the right is of a pretty church in Toiriz. We don't have pictures yet of the stork nests, but on tall posts nearby, there are two separate stork nests, and we sometimes see one of the parent birds feeding the baby birds. All you can see is the upended body, so we aren't quite sure how big those babies get. Hopefully we'll get a good photo sometime soon.



And now, it's time for a walk! But stay tuned, because the next post will be about a wonderful Fado singer we heard Sunday night. 


Meanwhile, if you have special items on your bucket list, I'd love to hear what they are.

Trasulfe, the Village We Love

Trasulfe in the far upper right; lower, to the left is a neighbor's farm. (The neighbor who brought us the quemada described later in this post.)

When people learn how often we go to Galicia, Spain, they often just hear "Spain", and ask us if we've seen Madrid, Barcelona, Sevilla . . .  No, we haven't been to any of those places (except for the Madrid airport).

Somehow Galicia has cast its spell over us, and, except for two short trips to Portugal (which we loved, and I'll write about in a later post), we haven't gotten out of Galicia. There is, of course, the famous city of Santiago, destination of pilgrims from all over the world, with a beautiful cathedral and an interesting old part of the city (as is the case with so many of these ancient cities in Galicia.) And I wrote about Lugo my previous post. But what captures our hearts so completely is the tiny village of Trasulfe. We bought a restored house there from friends, and the people of Trasulfe and their way of life have become an integral part of our lives.

One of the bends in the road on the way.

The road we take is on the other side of this building

And there it is: The village we love.

Trasulfe once had a population of 84 people (counting the children) and a couple of grand houses that have fallen to ruin. Many of the stone buildings are in ruins. It is a rural area, and for years young people have left for the big cities or even gone out of the country to find jobs. Our neighbor across the lane worked for many years in Switzerland before returning home to care for his mother, and now he tends sheep. The couple down the hill lived in Barcelona for many years, but are originally from Trasulfe. The man who built our garage lives in a nearby town/village of Turiz, (or Toiriz in Gallegan), but his wife is from Trasulfe, and he tends his cows in a pasture nearby. And our neighbors down the lane who have had such an impact on us, Eva and Manolo, are both from Trasulfe. All of them have siblings, cousins, or grown children, who are living in places like Madrid or Barcelona or abroad in Argentina or Venezuela. The old villages are emptying out, and it's a shame.

Originally, as I said, Trasulfe had a population of 84, and now it has a year-round population of 8! This is the story of a lot of the hill towns of Galicia, and also other parts of Spain. The village populations are aging, but they still carry on their way of life, keeping chickens, pigs, rabbits, sheep, cows (never a huge herd), and growing crops and vineyards. When we arrive, our neighbors bring us wine and eggs regularly, along with whatever is growing that time of year. (We go in spring and fall, so it can be anything from tomatoes, walnuts, chestnuts, peaches, figs -- whatever they have, they generously share.)

One of our neighbors' vines.

Our neighbor across the lane and his sheep.

Gary Larson cows, gossiping.

From our galería window.

From our galería window.

Despite the hardship of small rural villages (always, always they are working), there is a sense of peace and tranquility, of going with the seasons, of the cycle of life, that restores us while we are there. It's "hill and vale" country, and the land slopes down beyond our small fields into a valley, sloping up again on the far side, where we can see small villages akin to ours: white plaster walls, red tile roofs, varied shades of green due to fruit trees (apple, peach, figs), nut trees (walnut, chestnut), and low rock dry walls covered with brambles. Because of the elevation and the vales, nearly every morning begins with mist rising, sometimes an ocean of fog lapping against the far slopes; sometimes a veil over all, making the view haunting and mysterious. Galicia has two coasts, the Atlantic to the west, and the Bay of Biscayne to the north, and consequently it is the wet part of Spain. It's been called "green Spain", and you can see why.

Piñeiro, a village on the far slope.

Another day of mist and sunlight.

Another view from our galeria.

Spooky chestnut forest.

One of the turning points on the way to Trasulfe is a hunting preserve filled with chestnut trees. It always freaks me out, because it reminds me of the forest in Disney's original Snow White, when the trees seemed malevolent. But actually neighbors from all the nearby villages go there to pick chestnuts. The chestnuts were late this year, due to a very dry summer.

Galicia -- all of Spain, in fact -- abounds with festivals and fiestas, and we missed two crucial ones this year: The festival in Toiriz Santa Maria which ended the day before we arrived is one we usually go to. It is not related to the wine harvest at all -- it's a saint's day fiesta -- but it follows the wine harvest (or vendimia), so it's always associated in our minds with the vendimia. But the festival at Santa Eulalia is actually a festival of the chestnuts, a one day festival that had an orchestra this year, and it was on the very day we were leaving, sad to say. The fiestas are so much fun. Orchestras and dancing mostly, but people come from nearby villages and it's an opportunity to catch up on talk.

You can see why these good people have stolen our hearts.

Another moment of great sociability at day's end is gathering at the bench or some convenient group of rocks to just sit and talk. We look forward to this, despite our broken Spanish, and each year we can understand more and more. The picture to the right is from a couple of years ago, as we haven't yet downloaded all of this trip's pictures. It is always such a pleasure to see them again.

 This photo is from our very first fall trip, which coincided with the vendimia. Friends and relatives were helping to make wine -- a wine that is very low in alcoholic content, as they don't add sugar when making it. They've been making it in their families for centuries, and every household has its bodega with a store of wine.




What does have a high alcoholic content is the aguardiente, a clear brandy they distill, similar to grappa in Italy. All the neighbors make it in small quantities for home use, and sometimes they keep it clear, and sometimes they make herbal or coffee liquors from it. But it's always strong: A little goes a long, long way! We have a bottle going back years, because we drink it once or twice only, when the neighbor who gave it to us comes over for meriendas (snacks) a couple of nights before we leave.

This year we had a delightful surprise: I call it "The Night of the Quemada". We invited our neighbors down the road in for meriendas one evening, as they had given us a lovely lunch one day, and they brought the quemada and invited our neighbor across the road too. Quemada is made in a special clay bowl and prepared in a special way: You peel an orange, an apple, and a lemon, and put only the peels in the bowl, along with some sugar, then a generous handful of coffee beans.

Quemada bowl with peels, beans, and aguardiente.

Then you pour a generous quantity of aguardiente over it -- and set fire to it! The fire burns a soft blue with some yellow, and it has to burn for a few minutes so that the drink picks up all the essence of the fruit peels and beans. It's a marvelous aroma! (Our little dining room smelled so good afterwards!) Then it's served in very small cups -- and for good reason!

The fire burned . . .

The fire was set . . .

Everyone was merry . . .

And I was more than a little surprised!

I hope you've enjoyed this little taste of Trasulfe life (pun intended).

Now, a question for you: Where is your dream place you would like to go if you traveled away from your usual walk of life? What would make you return to it again and again?

All Roads Lead to . . . . Santiago. The Santiago Connection.

Santiago Cathedral, photo by my husband

     I am visiting my nephew and his family in France. Their home is just on the edge of the small village of Moisin, about 20 minutes away from Geneva. I'm able to make this visit because I had mileage with United—miles I had to use before October 31st or lose

 

The Alps from the French side (my photo)

them.          

As it turns out, a small chapel at the top of a hill in the village of Moisin is one of the pilgrim stops for pilgrims walking to Santiago de Compostela. A road edging the village has the familiar clam shell icon that signifies St. James and the pilgrim's road. I must say, having looked at similar sign posts on roads in Galicia less than a month ago, I was quite moved by this connection.

The road (el camino) runs right through the village of Moisin, where my nephew lives. 

     I was also pleased to find out earlier this year that Martin Sheen (one of my favorite actors) has a personal link to Galicia. His father came from Galicia, near Santiago. Sheen's real name is Ramon Estevez, and he's made a movie with his director son, Emilio Estevez, called The Way. It's a fictional tale that takes place on a pilgrimage (often called El Camino de Santiago, or The Way of St. James). I am so looking forward to seeing this movie. 


     I'm not sure exactly where the French pilgrimage begins, just as I'm not quite sure where the pilgrimage in Portugal starts. Obviously there are more roads, and I'll be interested to find out how many more countries have a pilgrimage walk to Santiago. Meanwhile, tomorrow I plant to wander up the hill to the chapel where pilgrims walking this leg of the journey stop. And, who knows, one day I might actually go on the walk myself, or at least a portion of it.

We’re Here in the Land of Mist and Mañana

We left Sacramento Sunday morning, and already the week is drifting by. How can Saturday have come so soon? 

It’s a long flight from Sacramento to Santiago. We changed at Dallas and again at Madrid, with generous wait times between flights to make sure any delayed flight would not make us miss the next. Our friends met us in Santiago. By the time we picked up our baggage, it was 6:30 in the evening. They drove us to Monforte, a drive of about an hour and a half, where we shopped for basic groceries. Then we all had dinner around 8:30 at a cafe-bar-restaurant called O Pincho. (Dinner at 8:30 or later . . . . That’s when you know you are in Spain.) 

After trudging through airports and lugging carry-ons around for close to 26 hours, we practically fell into bed Monday night and had a good long sleep. One of our last, I might add, because jet lag kicked in the next day and is only starting to fade: we become sleepy or wide awake at very odd hours. 

It’s wonderful to be here, taking short walks with our neighbors in the village, driving into Escairon for café con leche, or into Monforte to sit at an outdoor table in the big plaza, enjoying a glass of wine. Or going to Adega do Carlos for raciones at lunchtime (which is between 2:00 and 4:00 p.m. in these parts.) Or meeting our neighbors again, late in the day, at the bench down the lane, sitting and talking with them until clouds turn pink and the air turns suddenly cool. Already these lovely friends have loaded us up with potatoes, figs, tomatoes, peppers, and home-made wine. In addition, we’ve been setting up lunch and dinner dates with friends we haven’t seen since our last trip, and tomorrow night is the Fiesta in Tuiriz (a village/town within walking distance, although we will drive, since we won’t go until around 9:30 or so.)

Meanwhile, the mist rises each morning in the lowlands beyond the pastures below our gate—rises and disperses in wispy curls before a new misty layer forms below. It’s a procedure that repeats with variation for much of the morning. I watch it from the galería window as I study my Spanish.

But I have other homework on this trip, thanks to Rachael Harrie at Rach Writes and her Challenge #2 for the Platform Building Campaign. I have to figure out how to come up with 200 words, using miasma, lacuna, oscitate, synchronicity, sneaking in a reference to a mirror, and including the word imago in the title. It certainly is an interesting and fun assignment, but thank goodness she is giving us a week-and-a-half for this particular challenge!  

Hopefully I’ll have come up with something in a couple of days, so keep tuning in. In addition, you can connect at Rachel's site to the versions all the other writers come up with, and it's really wonderful to see the creativity in the different responses to the same challenge. 

Ciao for now.