3.26.07 Burgos

We left La Rioja reluctantly; we both would have stayed indefinitely in other circumstances. Maybe someday we will. Our early morning train ride took us through dismal gray countryside, with the occasional medieval town flashing past the window. More common were 20th century industrial centers; Bri even caught a glimpse of her first Spanish trailer park.

We were interested to see Burgos; it was supposed to have one of the finest Gothic cathedrals in Spain and was the capital city of Franco’s administration during the Spanish Civil War. We arrived to very cold temperatures and rain as our train pulled into the station. The city was much larger than where we had spent the last few days, and we strapped on our packs and began the crawl toward the old section of town where we would be staying. Within a half hour we were checked in, bags stashed, and walking back out for the first coffee of the day and a glimpse of the gigantic cathedral. The Bugos Cathedral was really large and impressive and we enjoyed our tour of the huge building and the attached museum.

First we circled the exterior; studying the carved stone façade. Gargoyles, eagles and other critters were layered among the twelve apostles and different popes, all together ascending the two large spires. Moses and Aaron stood guard over the entrance, complete with full priestly garments on Aaron and the Ten Commandments in the hands of Moses.

Inside the Hogwart School´s meeting room

Inside were more pieces of art and detailed granite sculptures. The ceilings were especially pretty, they reminded us of snowflakes. Beneath one is buried the Burgos-born El Cid, soldier of fortune and local hero. We took our time exploring every crypt and alter (there were a ton of them), before heading into the museum.

Inside the museum were religious paintings, ornate gold crucifixes, swords, scepters, and other ornamental icons. The stained glass windows lining the long cloisters were made gorgeous by the sunlight streaming through their geometric, richly colored shapes.

Next we left the cathedral and soaked in the sunshine that was now warming the stone sidewalks. By the river that ran through the center of town was a very pretty boardwalk along its side that had Eucalyptus trees with their branches grafted into a large natural canopy.

We continued on around the city, had a nice lunch, and bought train tickets to our next destination. Burgos’ Plaza Mayor is a sprawling section of the city lined with restaurants, newspaper stands and clothing shops. While trying to (unsucessfully) find a bookshop with a selection of books in English we passed a wedding dress shop, and a gown in the window caught Bri’s eye. Brianne was saying how much she liked it when she remembered that her wedding dress was coincidentally from Spain. Looking at the designer’s name on the door, we realized that the store was the same label her dress was. It’s funny how a person’s taste can continue to be in sync with the same artists, designers, architects and musicians despite the passage of time.

On our way back to our hotel we dodged early evening raindrops and went into a gourmet deli where we bought a variety of items for dinner. We shared a wonderful roast pork, cauliflower with garlic and pinenut sauce, white beans with vegetable and seafood stew, and fresh local cheese. To go along with all that, we opened the beautiful 1994 Gran Reserva from La Rioja that we’d found for only six euro.

The next morning it was raining again, and we said goodbye to Burgos as we continued our westward movement across the country.

03.27.07 Monforte de Lemos

Our decision to stop in Monforte de Lemos was due to its proximity to both the Ribeira and Rias Biaxas wine regions and the fact that niether of us was interested in spending another four hours on the train to our next destination, La Coruna.

Moments after leaving the station, we began to have second thoughts about that decision. The town looked run down, medium-large sized, and lacking the character that the other Spanish towns we’d visited were dripping with. A short taxi ride brought us to a section of town that had the city’s only (closed) discotheque, a couple of seedy looking bars, and not much else.

The taxi driver stopped at a hostel that had been on a list we had found on the internet, and he and C.J. tag teamed questions at the little man who opened the door. C.J. followed the quiet, cute old man upstairs while Bri waited with our bags, and he soon descended with a large smile on his face. We were the only tenants at the hostel, which had rooms that looked like every grandma’s guest room. It was immaculately clean, wonderfully warm with our own spotless bathroom, and all for 22 Euro per night. The owner and co-owner (his adorable, soft, red-haired old wife) were more than enthusiastic when they learned that C.J.’s ancestors had been Galacian. They talked in a halting mixture of Spanish and English with us for awhile before going back to their apartment on the floor below us.

The sun was setting by the time we left our place and set out to find Monforte’s small commercial district where we sampled local specialties and several local wines. Later we had a pasta dinner and even more wine. They weren’t blowing us away the way La Rioja wines had, but the white Rias Biaxas’ Albarinos were very nice- crisp, fruity, and extremely reminicent of an Italian or New Zealand Pinot Grigio.

Other than the imposing former Jesuit seminary that has now been converted into the coolest middle school ever, there wasn’t much in town to see.

Oh well, there are always unusual local liquors to explore. After dinner we decided to stop into a very warm looking bar to try one or two of them for dessert. When the middle aged soccer mom looking woman behind the bar learned that we were interested in trying local things, she kept pulling down bottle after bottle and saying, “This one is good. Oh, I like this one very much… and this one is nice as well.” And on and on. We ended up making our introduction to Anisado Refinado in that bar, a Spanish anise seed liquor that tasted like black licorice and coated and burned our tongues like nothing we’d ever tasted before. We also tried a cinnamon and caramel crème flavored liquor, a substance called Cuarenta Y Tres (43) that tasted like toffee, and Sideria, a local apple cider that is available on tap and as popular as beer in the north of Galicia. Every glass was a new experience, and all of them were great- it appears that Spain knows its liquors as well as its wines.

Monforte de Lemos wasn’t the most amazing, interesting or beautiful town we’ve visited, which is the reason it is not considered a tourist destination. But maybe the lack of tourists was the reason that everyone we met there was extremely kind and friendly. It was that welcoming attitude, more than anything else, that made our time in the city worthwhile.

03.28.07 - 03.30.07 La Coruna

The next morning we hurried as quickly as we could to Monforte de Lemos’ train station, and managed to catch our train just before it left. We knew that there wasn’t another train until that afternoon, so we bought whatever tickets were available and ended up in our very own first class sleeper coach. Needless to say, it was a pleasant but expensive three-hour-ride to the Atlantic port town of La Coruna.

When we arrived to La Coruna it wasn’t just raining, it was pouring. Brianne was getting a bit discouraged with the weather; it was reminding us a little too much of New Zealand’s incessant downpours. We caught a bus into the heart of town and then wandered around the hilly streets carrying our heavy packs, looking for the Plaza de Maria Pita, the main square in the city. It took a while but we did finally find the plaza, and the many fashion, eatery and hostel lined streets surrounding it.

After finding some budget accommodations we grabbed our raincoats and went back out to take photos of the large city hall that dominates one edge of the square. While the entire city quieted down for “nap time” (or as they call it here, “siesta”), we found an internet café and researched what there was to see in the area.

Later we discovered a wine bar called “Taberna O Secreto”, that was run by a white bearded middle aged man with a full belly and round, rosy cheeks. His patrons were all old men, and a few of them seemed to be impressed with the wines they were having as we were. The man next to us kept pounding his fist solemnly on the bar as he savored his glass.

We knew the feeling. We tried two local white Rias Biaxas wines, shared a red Ribeiro, and then a beautiful Pedro Ximenez sherry. The Pedro Ximenez was really interesting. It was similar in style to aged Muscats that we’ve had: dense, sweet, fig like, with the taste of age lingering on our palates. When the color of a wine is almost black and ringed in gold, you know you´ve found something special

We left Taberna O Secreto with our knowledge of Spanish wines pleasantly increased. The funny thing was that we had not set out to find what is probably the best wine bar in La Coruna, and we did so anyway- apparently at this point we can simply follow our instincts.

Enjoying the local wine had made us eager to try some local cuisine. Many of the restaurants along La Coruna’s busiest pedestrian way have glass windows filled with the specials of the day- fish, gigantic tiger prawns, crabs, and without fail, pinkish, purple octopus.

Known in Spansh as “pulpo”, Galician octopus is available at seemingly every restaurant in La Coruna, we walked around looking for a promising spot to try it out. We found a very small restaurant owned and operated by a married couple. It was nearing 9 p.m., by Spanish standards it was a bit early for dinner, so we were the only people present in the restaurant.

In addition to the pulpo, we ordered appetizers of mussels, mushrooms (called “Champi”) and empanadas to share. The empanadas came first; warm and filled with shredded chicken and peppers. Next were the mussels; about 12 or 14 of them served cold, with oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Then the mushrooms; whole caps which had been sauteed in olive oil, garlic and shallots, then with a sprinkling of sea salt on top. The Champi were completely amazing- one of our favorite dishes in Spain yet. The half order of pulpo came out on a small plate. The octopus tentacles had been cut into round circles, sauteed in olive oil and garlic, and then dusted with hot red pepper powder. The meat was tender and supple, yet firm. It tasted to C.J. exactly like lobster, and to Bri it tasted like a cross between lobster and ahi tuna. It was so, so delicious. We’re hoping the giant Asian food store at home with the great seafood selection has octopus on hand so that we can try preparing the dish (along with the mushrooms) when we get home.

Our following day in La Coruna we had only two goals in mind: visit the Torre de Hercules (Tower of Hercules) and explore more of the city.

We began with a walk along La Coruna’s endless boardwalk. The sky’s dark clouds promised more rain, and the Atlantic was choppy and green-grey, the exacts same color that it is in New England. A lone surfer sat in a wetsuit out on his board, watching waves go by that were too small to ride.

Eventually we reached a hill with a green park, and standing tall over the water was the enormous Torre de Hercules. A legend says that Hercules built a tower there after defeating the giants who were harassing the locals, and that the Romans rebuilt it a lighthouse in the second century A.D.

Before we left, Bri had read that the Celtic kings (who were supposed to be sons of the gods) in Galacia built a tower (it may have been this tower) and saw Ireland from the top. They decided to sail for the far off land, and that is how Celts came found to Ireland and Scotland.

After examining the tower closely, we walked around the large public park that surrounds it. Outdoor art is scattered everywhere, and we felt that its quality was higher than one would expect from such a working class city.

As evening fell we strolled La Coruna’s many pedestrian only steets, checked out some stunning graffitti, decorative tiles, more local cuisine, more wine, more Galicia.

Notice the different wine region DOC tags.

Odds are that these tiny boxes of wine end up in school kid´s lunchboxes, now and again.

To Americans, pig legs hanging from a ceiling is as surreal as a Dali painting.

For dinner we ended up at a cozy restaurant where we shared a table with two older friends named Marcial and Jaime, who seemed to enjoy our company (as we did theirs). After a wonderful carne asada and some more local red wine, Marcial bought us a round of the opaque pinkish wine that they were sharing and wished us a great trip.

On our way to our hotel after dinner, we noticed music streaming out from behind a large wooden door. We could hear bagpipes, tambourine, and drums, and the melody that was being played was fast and lively. It was obviously from the frequent interuruptions and nondescript location that it a local band practicing together. During a longer break in the music, C.J. knocked on the door, and a short, dark haired man came out. C.J. explained that we were visiting from the U.S., and then asked if we could watch for a few minutes.

We were invited in and then stood grinning as we served as an audience for some live Galician music. The presence of several bagpipes and the melody of the tune was further evidence of NW Spain’s strong connections with Celtic culture.

Our final morning in La Coruna was spent shopping for a 50th (!!!) anniversary present for C.J.’s grandparents. When we found a small shop full of fine Galician pottery and ceramics, the question of genetics influencing personal taste was raised again. We knew that his Grandma particularly liked blue and white ceramics, but what are the chances that the place that her family was from was actually famous for them?

C.J. selected a trio of small plates depicting traditional dancers and musicians and sent them out across the street at the post office. We had to rush to get back to the train station, but we made it in time and were soon on our way south- our next two destinations would still be in Galicia, and after that we would be heading to Portugal. The weather could have been better during our time so far, but good wine and food were more than making up for it.

The Spanish population is approximately 62% cute old men.

Tags: Collaborations, Food, Posts by Bri, Posts by C.J, Spain, Travelogues by Bri, Travelogues by C.J., Wine, Tag Index

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