Saturday, September 26, 2015

To A Coruna

Thursday 17 September 2015

Woke to another grey morning, the sea shining silver grey on the horizon.  Packed up, leaving my paintings of yesterday on the counter - one of sea glass, one of abstract flowers and two simple charcoal drawings of flowers with coloured washes over.
Skies cleared as we left Laxe and Oh commented that it did seem to have a micro climate as everyone said, but it appeared to be a completely crap one.

Got to Arteixo, outskirts of A Corunna, and were just about to get out of the car and explore the many shops, when OH realised that the passports and driving licences were still back in thee flat.  fortunately had only gone 35 kms.  Finally arrived in AC at 1 pm and our hostel was right in the centre.  Hostal Roma.  Man on reception very apologetic - in Spanish - he walked us up three flights of stairs then took us to the 7th floor in a terrifyingly old ife - then walked us down four flights of stairs.  The lift to the first three floors was knackered. (Interestingly this lift was a Thyssen Krupp - most of the lifts in hotels are another make which currently slips my memory.  Wish dog would stop snoring as I type - he is making me feel tired...).  Room tiny but comfortable beds and wonderful views of the city and the passers by, way down below.  

Siesta then OH went for a walk whilst I attempted to repair the damage of four days of wind and rain on my barnet (that is hair, for non Brits!).  A Coruna is a city of around 250 000 people on the sea and famous for its 19th century tenement quay side buildings with walls of ornately wrought windows.  We had significant problems finding one another but finally met up just as the sun was setting over the Marina.  Far too many bars.  It was a wonder we found the hostel again as OH wanted to sample them all and refused to give me the map, despite only using it to wave around and say he had a 'feeling' about where the hostel would be and that I was obsessed with detail.  Lots of snoring ensued.  People down in the street didnt go to bed until about 4 am.

For a more journalistic opinion of the city, there is the following article

We went in Cunqueiro too and I wouldnt describe it as a cheery old tavern.  Your feet stuck to the floor, the drinkers looked like they had just come off set from a remake of The Shining and the bartender was a miserable old bxxxxd.  You did however get to drink albarino from copas (small shallow dishes) and it was poured from a jug so OH was totally thrilled and if we spent 1.20 euros that was all, so OH was thrilled as this find.  He loves gloomy bars full of ancient locals

Image from Guardian article above  -  Orzan beach