The end of the world

Cabo Finisterre

We were aiming for Camariñas when we left Muros this morning and there was no reason to suppose we wouldn't make it. True, we could have got off to an earlier start, but for another infernal all night disco fiesta disturbing the peace of the night before. 1000 wasn't bad, considering, and the forecast of light northwesterlies promised a pleasant if long day's sailing.


Long story short, it wasn't to be. The light northwesterly turned into a F6 on the nose around Finisterre and a rough ETA of 2300 was enough to convince us to pull in behind the sheltering arm of the western tip of mainland Europe.


Tomorrow, after all, is another day.

Fisterra village and the cape from the east

Early morning dolphin visit

View from the anchorage at Ensenada del Sardiñeiro

PS. We did make it to Camariñas the next day and had to motor all the way over a glassy sea. The difference a day makes! The anchorage at Ensenada del Sardiñeiro was well worth stopping, even though we had to endure yet another night of beach disco disruption - ear plugs did the job.

Operation clean-up

Looking back on Muros from the hills above.

The charms of Muros are holding us here yet. Chief amongst them must be the shelter of anchorage as the days have alternated fair with foul and we've sat out a couple of good blows along with heavy rain. We continue to enjoy the town as well and have come across an outstanding eaterie - the 'Nueva Escocia' - which appears to be simply a room in the owner's house with 4 or 5 small tables where he does everything himself, down to hand-cooking the crisps.

For months we've been on the lookout for a good tidal drying berth to give Fettler's grassy hull a proper clean and a fresh coat of antifouling paint. This too Muros has provided and two days of good weather with convenient tide times gave us the window we needed to get the job done. A subsequent jaunt all the way up the ria to Noia showed off the fruits of our labour as a good knot and a half has been restored to the vessel's speed. Unfortunately, there was no good shelter to be found at Noia so we returned to Muros for the night.

Bearded lady. The growth was slowing us down too much.

How we missed Joe and his pressure washer!

Clean again! Now for the paint...

Smooth as a baby's. Ready to fly through the water again.

The forecast for the next few days is looking good for rounding Finisterre, so we might just take advantage of it.

If you're going to Santiago (be sure to wear a scallop in your hair)

800 years this year - the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.

The country might be teetering on the edge of insolvency, but at least Spain seems to have a good infrastructure to show for all the lost dinero. The train we took from Vilagarcia to Santiago de Compostela was modern, clean, punctual and reasonably priced. Santiago itself was a delight.

It's a bustling and prosperous-looking city and of course a major pilgrimage destination since the tomb of St James the Apostle was located there in mediaeval times. There are still plenty of pilgrims about, concentrated in the historic centre and clustered around the cathedral, which marks its 800th anniversary this year.

These pilgrims wouldn't have looked out of place centuries ago.

The atmosphere was quite stirring, with a steady stream of arrivals, many of whom had walked or cycled 800 km along the Camino de Santiago. We had a bit of luck in entering the cathedral just in time for the swinging of one of the world's largest censers - La Alcachofa - a spectacular display before a packed cathedral.

Incensed - La Alcachofa in action.

A splendid organ too.

Unfortunates suffering in Purgatory.

Santiago boasts many other fine churches, museums, libraries and is a university town as well. We had been strongly recommended to visit the Museo do Pobo Galego (the museum of the Gallician people) and very worthwhile it was. Our friends the Kodiaks were particularly impressed by the triple helical staircase, telling us to go if only to see that.

Nice staircase(s). They don't all lead to the same places either.

The weather took a turn for the worse after our day in Santiago and we've been dodging from anchorage to anchorage with some fairly wild sailing in between. We also took our leave of the Ria de Arousa and thrashed around to Muros, beating into a heavy swell and weaving around the many inconveniently positioned clusters of rocks along the way.

Muros, from one of the surrounding hills.

Ria Muros is less built up and more rugged than the rias to the south and we've been taking advantage of the excellent hill walking opportunities. Despite the tourist office's assertions that 'Muros deserves to be gone round' and 'nobody can leave Muros without forgetting having stayed in a region full of artistic and cultural heritage, nature and sea', we would recommend it to anyone.

Heading ashore, aided by our trusty umbrella (Photo: A. Scott).

Rock hopping with the Kodiaks (photo: A. Scott).

Cute cottages there are in plenty. 

Hunting for the elusive Neolithic petroglyphs.

Found at last, no thanks to whoever tore down the signposts!

This place has it all. Gorgeous beach at San Francisco.

Pontevedra to Arousa

This is Pontevedra! (photo: A. Eiris)

What a fantastic time we had in Pontevedra. It all started with the pint of Kentish ale mentioned in the previous post. We met the right people there - now our good friends Pedro and Carol - who welcomed us into their circle of friends and showed us where to go and when.

From them we learned a lot about Galician life in general, music and night life in particular. Things don't really get going until after midnight and then it continues for as long as you can keep it up. There's a superb live music scene and plenty of great chat. It felt somehow familiar, suggesting that the pan-Celtic connexion is more than just an idea.

The truly hardy call for aguardiente de cafe, which we dubbed 'the rocket fuel of Galicia', that delivers a compact hit of caffeine, alcohol and sugar and may possibly eliminate the need for (or ability to) sleep altogether. We left that stuff well alone and so would typically flag and fade into the night somewhere between 0300 and 0600. After six days of that the instinct of self preservation dictated that we move on, sorry though we were to say our farewells.

We didn't get very far the first day out, pulling in at the first opportunity (Sanxenxo) for some much needed rest. On the following day we made it around into the next Ria, Arousa, anchoring out here and there and keeping a fairly low profile while recovering from that week of Pontevedran debauchery.

We have managed to catch up with the Kodiaks again and enjoy some more of their company and had a visit from Sonja's cousin Melanie, which was very nice. Shorter than we would have liked, but thus is it ever.

The weather is a bit iffy at the moment. Looks like conditions are hellish in Biscay and the Channel but we're tucked up in Vilagarcia where it's showery and blustery but not too bad. Tomorrow we're planning an excursion by rail to the famous Santiago de Compostela.

Anchored in the Ensenada de Grove.

Dawn with a passing thundery squall.

View from Isla de Arousa.

Anchored at Isla de Arousa.

So many beaches.

Pobra do Caramiñal.