Galiza é ben feita

The title sums up this blogpost, but allow me to elaborate. I mentioned in an earlier post how nice it was the first time I left the city and saw some of the countryside. Well, I have done it a few more times since then, and it continues to endlessly impress me. This specific trip, documented in photos on facebook, took me west of A Coruña along the Coast of Death. What a cool name, eh!? It´s called this because of the 60+ notable shipwrecks that have happened there in the past 100 years. For this reason, the many small towns are riddled with myths and legends and I hope to read up on some of these in the future. We stopped in Finisterre, which translates to ´the end of the earth´ because it was once thought to be so. On the cliffside overlooking the vast Atlantic, one can see scorched, black stone where the many modern pilgrims burn their shoes after thousands of kilometers spent walking in them. This reminds me of my dad´s story of he and his friends burning their school uniforms in the woods after graduation. Physical and mental journies both deserve a good fire I suppose. My friends Dan and I scaled the cliffs at our next stop and got as close to the crashing waves as we could. It was awesome, to say the least, to look up and only see rock and to look down and see that surging and powerful body of water throwing itself at the cliffs like a child does to the locked door in his room when he´s in timeout. Or maybe that was just me. But I was never in timeout because I was the good son, Macaulay Culkin style. The countryside leading to these virgin beaches and wild cliffsides was also impressive. It is filled with old rural houses clustered together in small enclaves on the hillside like barnacles on a rock. It is a cliche scene filled with grazing cattle and goats, fresh produce gardens, the deepest green grass and the cozy sight of smoke billowing out of chimneys. One can rent a house anywhere in this classic atmosphere for only a few hundred euros a month. Pastoral getaway, anyone?