Back to the roots – Lugo and A Coruña
So… I’m back from Spain. I’ll check in with a series of reports from the trip. Below is the first:
Wednesday, March 7th
We (me and Kathi’s sister) left Munich on the morning of the 7th. Leaving Germany was no problem but arriving in Mallorca for our connecting flight was an amusing experience. Our plane was a tad late and we only had a few minutes to catch the second leg of our flight. Our plane parked in a row of planes that had either just landed or were preparing to leave. We deplaned and got into a bus which took us to the terminal then we ran to the gate where our next plane was. We got to the gate in time and ran down the tunnel only to find another bus waiting for us. We climbed into the bus and after a few minutes it drove us to our next plane… which was two planes away from our original plane. This might not seem like a big deal but we seriously wasted a ton of time taking the buses and running through the airport and we just barely made our flight. It would have been much easier if they’d have said, “yeah – just walk over there, your plane is 20 yards away.”
Leaving Mallorca was routine but as we entered Galician airspace, we encountered some serious turbulence. We would drop and lose a considerable amount of altitude which was bad enough but it was made worse by the fact that we were well into our landing cycle. The bumpy ride was made worse by the pilot’s twisting and turning. I’ve been on a few flights now and this was easily the most unsettling landing I’ve ever had. Sometimes, when the turbulence is bad, I take a look around at the other passengers to gauge how rough things are. This time, everybody had a panicked look on their faces and the lady behind me was praying loudly. It was not good. Nevertheless, we touched down in Santiago de Compostela without incident and all was well.
We rented our car and drove from Santiago directly to Lugo which was only an hour or hour and a half away. Vroni had to drive because I can’t drive stick and she immediately set about pissing the people in Lugo off. She was in the right-turn lane and the light was green but to it was red if you wanted to go straight. She was unfazed. People very likely wanted to murder us and it didn’t matter one bit to her.
We had some difficulty finding our hotel because streets are not properly marked in Spain (this is something that was an ongoing issue during our stay) but when we finally did arrive, the hotel was phenomenal. Great restaurant, sports bar, big room with a big bathroom; it even had a bidet. After settling in we went down to the sports bar where they had the FC Bayern Munich v. Real Madrid game on. Bayern scored within ten seconds and ended up winning the game. The Trip was off to a good start.
Thursday March 8th
We woke up and had a phenomenal buffet (by European standards). After breakfast we went into the city and climbed up its phenomenal Roman walls. The Romans build the wall surrounding the city in the 4th century and they’re still completely intact. My guide book says they’re the best preserved Roman fortifications in all of Spain, if not the whole world. The rest of the city didn’t have too much to speak of. The cathedral kicked ass but the rest of the place was run down and dirty. As we were heading out, I asked Kathi’s sister to stop at a supposed Roman bridge that was just outside the city but we were once again thwarted by the piss-poor street sign markings. We did eventually make it to the bridge but by that time we were both pissed off and pretty much dismissed it. We climbed back into the car for the drive to A Coruña.
Once again, we made it to A Coruña without a problem but had trouble finding the hotel do to the poor street markings. I had to give my rusty Spanish its first test. I squeezed out enough to get my point across to the gas station attendant and he hooked us up with some rad directions so we could get to the hotel. We found the hotel and checked in and I’ll be damned if the reception girl wasn’t some Spanish goddess. She was beautiful and incredibly nice. The hotel appeared to be a family run operation so she wasn’t just some rent-an-employee. Kathi’s sister was next to me the whole time so I couldn’t just stare at this girl but… damn, she was something.
We finished checking in and got the car to park in the hotel’s underground garage and Kathi’s sister parked it like shit. This happens everywhere we go but I still wasn’t prepared for how craptacular a parker she is. This is something else that would become a running theme for the trip. The only time we really fought is when I would lose my temper over her remarkably shitting driving/parking.
After the dust settled from that, we walked down to the Playa Christina so I could put my toes in the Galician sand and wade in the Atlantic Ocean. It was pretty cool, I have to admit. I fooled around on the beach while Kathi’s sister stood as far away from the fun as she possibly could. She is, after all, a German. I collected some seashells as souvenirs and then we set off looking for something to eat. We found a supermarket first and bought a nice 45 cent bottle of Lenda Galega wine. Then we found a little place that served tapas and I had my first taste of one of the most delicious foods known to man: Raxo. Raxo varies depending on the place, but it is essentially a spicy pork dish and I’m pretty sure it’s the food god eats in heaven. Kathi’s sister didn’t want anything warm so I told her to get a tortilla tapa. This is where I found out that the Spaniards have a completely different idea of what a tortilla should be. In Spain, tortillas are omelets.
After our little meal, we headed back to the hotel, picked up some chips at a video rental place and enjoyed a pleasant evening on the balcony with our wine.
Friday, March 9th
The next morning we woke up and trudged downstairs for breakfast. We were both tired and a little disappointed in the continental breakfast we were offered. It was free but I tried to tack on an additional sandwich for a couple of Euros more. The dude didn’t understand me and I sure as shit didn’t understand him as he was speaking Gallego, not Spanish (note: everything that comes from Galicia, the food, the people, the wines and even the language, is called “Gallego” or “Gallega.” Pretty cool, eh? Too bad I didn’t/don’t fuckin’ speak it…). We were confused but the goddess girl from the night before came down and cleared things up. She spoke regular Spanish and we were able to communicate at a basic level. I never did get my sandwich but she was so nice (and beautiful) that I didn’t want to make any trouble for her.
We went into the city itself and walked to the opera house before checking out the harbor. Apparently, A Coruña’s harbor was the departure place for many of the people that left Galicia so it was cool to think I was walking around where my ancestors left their homeland.
(Random note: the Galician flag was actually A Coruña’s naval flag. Most of the people that left had never seen the Galician flag so they mistook the naval flag for the Galician national flag and started flying it in their new homelands. When some started coming back, the Galician flag was changed to what it is today. And now you know…)
After wandering around the harbor, we went to the castle which defended the port and poked around there for a bit and then headed into the city. We did our sightseeing there and tried to find a good lunch. We couldn’t find a local place that had decent prices or that didn’t look a bit dodgy so we went to Burger King instead.
After that we drove to the Torre de Hercules which was originally built by the Romans in the 1st century. It has since been restored but it is still the world’s oldest lighthouse that’s still in service. We climbed up and had some kick-ass view of the city and then we climbed down again in search of the Millennium (some sort of half-assed obelisk that the goddess had been raving about). When we got there, it was so pathetic that we didn’t even stop to get out but instead we kept on driving to what was supposed to be a sweet lookout point over the city. We couldn’t even find that so we hopped into the car and made out way back to Santiago de Compostela.
We got lost after arriving in Santiago and Kathi’s sister cemented her position as world’s worst driver during this ordeal. We found another gas station where I was again forced to ask for directions in broken Spanish but again, the people were incredibly nice and helped us out of our jam.
We arrived at our hotel to find that it was in a pretty seedy spot and not all that spectacular. Kathi’s sister’s priority had been budget over comfort and it was bound to catch up with us, which it did in Santiago. However, we had our own bed and a our own shower so that was pretty much all we needed from our hotels.
After depositing our stuff in the hotel, we headed into the city for dinner. We parked illegally and then walked around for ages before finding a place to eat. This may sound kinda f’d up but my dinner experience was brightened by the mentally handicapped woman that came into the restaurant with her mother (well… I assume it was her mother). The mentally handicapped woman reached for something that wasn’t hers and the mother warned her that she shouldn’t be doing that and if she continued to do things like that, they’d have to leave. Then she asked, “Is that what you want? Do you want to have to leave?” to which the handicapped woman responded with and low, gravelly and guttural, “NO!” I think this was the only word she could say and from time to time, the relative quite of the restaurant would be broken by this loud “NO!” at random, inappropriate times. The woman herself looked like a skinny, hunchbacked, curly dark haired version of Velma from Scooby Doo.
“NO!” became the rallying cry for the rest of the trip. Well, for me at least…
Wednesday, March 7th
We (me and Kathi’s sister) left Munich on the morning of the 7th. Leaving Germany was no problem but arriving in Mallorca for our connecting flight was an amusing experience. Our plane was a tad late and we only had a few minutes to catch the second leg of our flight. Our plane parked in a row of planes that had either just landed or were preparing to leave. We deplaned and got into a bus which took us to the terminal then we ran to the gate where our next plane was. We got to the gate in time and ran down the tunnel only to find another bus waiting for us. We climbed into the bus and after a few minutes it drove us to our next plane… which was two planes away from our original plane. This might not seem like a big deal but we seriously wasted a ton of time taking the buses and running through the airport and we just barely made our flight. It would have been much easier if they’d have said, “yeah – just walk over there, your plane is 20 yards away.”
Leaving Mallorca was routine but as we entered Galician airspace, we encountered some serious turbulence. We would drop and lose a considerable amount of altitude which was bad enough but it was made worse by the fact that we were well into our landing cycle. The bumpy ride was made worse by the pilot’s twisting and turning. I’ve been on a few flights now and this was easily the most unsettling landing I’ve ever had. Sometimes, when the turbulence is bad, I take a look around at the other passengers to gauge how rough things are. This time, everybody had a panicked look on their faces and the lady behind me was praying loudly. It was not good. Nevertheless, we touched down in Santiago de Compostela without incident and all was well.
We rented our car and drove from Santiago directly to Lugo which was only an hour or hour and a half away. Vroni had to drive because I can’t drive stick and she immediately set about pissing the people in Lugo off. She was in the right-turn lane and the light was green but to it was red if you wanted to go straight. She was unfazed. People very likely wanted to murder us and it didn’t matter one bit to her.
We had some difficulty finding our hotel because streets are not properly marked in Spain (this is something that was an ongoing issue during our stay) but when we finally did arrive, the hotel was phenomenal. Great restaurant, sports bar, big room with a big bathroom; it even had a bidet. After settling in we went down to the sports bar where they had the FC Bayern Munich v. Real Madrid game on. Bayern scored within ten seconds and ended up winning the game. The Trip was off to a good start.
Thursday March 8th
We woke up and had a phenomenal buffet (by European standards). After breakfast we went into the city and climbed up its phenomenal Roman walls. The Romans build the wall surrounding the city in the 4th century and they’re still completely intact. My guide book says they’re the best preserved Roman fortifications in all of Spain, if not the whole world. The rest of the city didn’t have too much to speak of. The cathedral kicked ass but the rest of the place was run down and dirty. As we were heading out, I asked Kathi’s sister to stop at a supposed Roman bridge that was just outside the city but we were once again thwarted by the piss-poor street sign markings. We did eventually make it to the bridge but by that time we were both pissed off and pretty much dismissed it. We climbed back into the car for the drive to A Coruña.Once again, we made it to A Coruña without a problem but had trouble finding the hotel do to the poor street markings. I had to give my rusty Spanish its first test. I squeezed out enough to get my point across to the gas station attendant and he hooked us up with some rad directions so we could get to the hotel. We found the hotel and checked in and I’ll be damned if the reception girl wasn’t some Spanish goddess. She was beautiful and incredibly nice. The hotel appeared to be a family run operation so she wasn’t just some rent-an-employee. Kathi’s sister was next to me the whole time so I couldn’t just stare at this girl but… damn, she was something.
We finished checking in and got the car to park in the hotel’s underground garage and Kathi’s sister parked it like shit. This happens everywhere we go but I still wasn’t prepared for how craptacular a parker she is. This is something else that would become a running theme for the trip. The only time we really fought is when I would lose my temper over her remarkably shitting driving/parking.
After the dust settled from that, we walked down to the Playa Christina so I could put my toes in the Galician sand and wade in the Atlantic Ocean. It was pretty cool, I have to admit. I fooled around on the beach while Kathi’s sister stood as far away from the fun as she possibly could. She is, after all, a German. I collected some seashells as souvenirs and then we set off looking for something to eat. We found a supermarket first and bought a nice 45 cent bottle of Lenda Galega wine. Then we found a little place that served tapas and I had my first taste of one of the most delicious foods known to man: Raxo. Raxo varies depending on the place, but it is essentially a spicy pork dish and I’m pretty sure it’s the food god eats in heaven. Kathi’s sister didn’t want anything warm so I told her to get a tortilla tapa. This is where I found out that the Spaniards have a completely different idea of what a tortilla should be. In Spain, tortillas are omelets.After our little meal, we headed back to the hotel, picked up some chips at a video rental place and enjoyed a pleasant evening on the balcony with our wine.
Friday, March 9th
The next morning we woke up and trudged downstairs for breakfast. We were both tired and a little disappointed in the continental breakfast we were offered. It was free but I tried to tack on an additional sandwich for a couple of Euros more. The dude didn’t understand me and I sure as shit didn’t understand him as he was speaking Gallego, not Spanish (note: everything that comes from Galicia, the food, the people, the wines and even the language, is called “Gallego” or “Gallega.” Pretty cool, eh? Too bad I didn’t/don’t fuckin’ speak it…). We were confused but the goddess girl from the night before came down and cleared things up. She spoke regular Spanish and we were able to communicate at a basic level. I never did get my sandwich but she was so nice (and beautiful) that I didn’t want to make any trouble for her.
We went into the city itself and walked to the opera house before checking out the harbor. Apparently, A Coruña’s harbor was the departure place for many of the people that left Galicia so it was cool to think I was walking around where my ancestors left their homeland.
(Random note: the Galician flag was actually A Coruña’s naval flag. Most of the people that left had never seen the Galician flag so they mistook the naval flag for the Galician national flag and started flying it in their new homelands. When some started coming back, the Galician flag was changed to what it is today. And now you know…)
After wandering around the harbor, we went to the castle which defended the port and poked around there for a bit and then headed into the city. We did our sightseeing there and tried to find a good lunch. We couldn’t find a local place that had decent prices or that didn’t look a bit dodgy so we went to Burger King instead.
After that we drove to the Torre de Hercules which was originally built by the Romans in the 1st century. It has since been restored but it is still the world’s oldest lighthouse that’s still in service. We climbed up and had some kick-ass view of the city and then we climbed down again in search of the Millennium (some sort of half-assed obelisk that the goddess had been raving about). When we got there, it was so pathetic that we didn’t even stop to get out but instead we kept on driving to what was supposed to be a sweet lookout point over the city. We couldn’t even find that so we hopped into the car and made out way back to Santiago de Compostela.
We got lost after arriving in Santiago and Kathi’s sister cemented her position as world’s worst driver during this ordeal. We found another gas station where I was again forced to ask for directions in broken Spanish but again, the people were incredibly nice and helped us out of our jam.
We arrived at our hotel to find that it was in a pretty seedy spot and not all that spectacular. Kathi’s sister’s priority had been budget over comfort and it was bound to catch up with us, which it did in Santiago. However, we had our own bed and a our own shower so that was pretty much all we needed from our hotels.
After depositing our stuff in the hotel, we headed into the city for dinner. We parked illegally and then walked around for ages before finding a place to eat. This may sound kinda f’d up but my dinner experience was brightened by the mentally handicapped woman that came into the restaurant with her mother (well… I assume it was her mother). The mentally handicapped woman reached for something that wasn’t hers and the mother warned her that she shouldn’t be doing that and if she continued to do things like that, they’d have to leave. Then she asked, “Is that what you want? Do you want to have to leave?” to which the handicapped woman responded with and low, gravelly and guttural, “NO!” I think this was the only word she could say and from time to time, the relative quite of the restaurant would be broken by this loud “NO!” at random, inappropriate times. The woman herself looked like a skinny, hunchbacked, curly dark haired version of Velma from Scooby Doo.
“NO!” became the rallying cry for the rest of the trip. Well, for me at least…
posted by Sivlitz at 1:57 PM
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