Wednesday 16 September 2015
Last night had pegged out our smalls on the balcony clothes line, figuring out that the violence of the wind would counteract any effects of the rain. They were almost dry! Had two cups of tea in bed and then miraculously the skies cleared so we drove down to a tea shoppe found yesterday on a brief run around the top end of town. The lady produced the largest croissants I have ever seen. And it was after ten am. She also gave us a piece of pineapple upside down cake to keep us going whilst the croissants were being toasted. Dense eggy sponge with candied pineapple crunches.
The shop was also a bakery and there was a huge selection of cakes on display. Not little works of art as in a French patisserie, but they definitely won in terms of size. You couldn't have held more than one in your hand at the same time. No WIFI so drove back to the fishing spot to see where the tide was and spoke to a young Spaniard (in French fortunately) and he told me about an app called Tu Marea (your tide) and said high tide was at 11.37. It was then 11 am and OH decided he needed some swivel link leaders so we went back into town and to the swanky fishing shop.
OH burst through the doors enthusiastically and I could tell by the look on the owner's face that it was instant recognition. OH promptly started speaking terrible French and using mime. The owner of the shop didn't seem surprised. I went and hid behind the rigs and enjoyed ten minutes of FB whilst OH confused the owner and bought many things in little plastic bags.
On the counter was a map of local places of interest - two of which looked good - a beach called Traba and another Praia (in Galicia the Castilian word Playa becomes Praia) de Cristales or beach of crystales. The fishing shop owner said the best fishing would be at high tide tonight so we went to Traba which is a wonderful deserted place of over a km of beach, strewn with seaweed. Gulls wheeling overhead. Stinging rain. A German camper van with the curtains drawn and three sets of footprints running down to the sea (but not running back...).
Went up the headland to Laxe lighthouse and found a tiny churchyard with walls full of family crypts. Sad statue of a mother and child looking out to sea for a fishing boat which will never return. What must it have been like; and be like still, to watch for your loved ones: your sons and husbands, your bread winners, only a few strips of metal and wood and sail protecting them from the immensity of the oceans and one slip to certain death. The bronze woman holds her naked and sleeping child and stands, one hand raised to shield her eyes, as she scans the horizon.
Flora hugged close to the ground - pinks, sea holly, heather. Down the hill to the crystal cove - just one tiny enclosed bay - what looks like sea glass in shades from cloudy white through palest cream to moss green to deep bottle green. Below the cliffs the sea boiled and shot out blankets of spray as white as icing. Foam bubbles floated skywards.
OH announced he was hungry, the giant croissants having been consumed at least two hours earlier, so we went around the headland and found a restaurant over looking the bay. The portion sizes were just insane. For starters OH had 12 deep fried small fish and I made the mistake of ordering fabas which turned out to be a stew of white beans, black pudding, chorizo, ham and garlic. It arrived in a pasta dish and it was absolutely brimming. OH had to help. We then had roast chicken and chips (me) and steak and chips. Again, enormous portions. My chicken must have been of world beating dimensions when walking on two feet. Staggered back to flat and collapsed into horizontal position to do some serious digesting.
Later, OH went fishing in appalling weather and I sat and got out my paints and did some fairly terrible painting. Painting is a lot harder to do well than I had ever realised. Being a very impatient person, I want to be good immediately....