Leaving Boadilla del Monte (Madrid) on Thursday, we traveled in typical Spanish fashion, stopping no less than three times at various cafes for coffee and pinchos (small tapas). Nearly six hours later (and 2 hours behind schedule), we arrived in Galicia where Suso's family lives.
Galicia is in the far northwestern region of Spain, directly above Portugal, straddling the Cantabrian Sea and Atlantic Ocean. Never have I ever seen vaster or greener rolling hills. Surrounded on all sides by water and mountains, everywhere I looked was simply breathtaking.
The home where Suso's family lives is actually more like a small apartment building...four levels in all, complete with luggage elevator, pool, and outdoor kitchen. I felt like I had jumped into a scene out of a movie.
Not wasting the fleeting hours of sun, all three kids stripped right there on the pool deck and changed into bathing suits to swim. Meanwhile, I tried not to ask Alejandra if she had forgotten her top...clearly she had made no such mistake. This look may not be cute for much longer.
Upon Loli's (Suso's sassy mom) urging that I change my clothes, I joined the others to make myself presentable and walked to the plaza for drinks before dinner. Although probably only a 5 minute stroll normally, we must have stopped at least 6 different times to say hello to another passerby. It was clear that everyone in this town knew each other, which made falling in love with Galicia easy from the get-go.
Back at "home" around 10:30pm, all of us crammed around the kitchen table for a dinner of steak filets, Spanish tortilla stuffed with chorizo three inches high, and of course, more wine. Shortly after, we were all ready for bed. "My" family and I enjoyed the entire top floor of the house to ourselves; Sergio, Ale, and I sleeping in one room, Solete, Alberto, and Alvaro in the other.
Each morning, none of us woke up before noon...not even little Alvaro. We began each day at the same quaint little cafe across from the plaza, drinking coffee, playing chess, and reading the paper.
Alvaro eating doughnuts at the cafe bar...like a pro
On Friday, upon leaving the cafe, we poked around an open-air market, which sold everything from ham legs and potatoes to scarves and handbags. Then we headed to the beach.
While Solete, the kids, and I searched for shells, Alberto and Suso stopped at a nearby cafe for drinks and pinchos (because it had almost been a whole hour since our last cafe!)
Alejandra and I
Solete, Ale, Alvaro, and Sergio
Around 3, we headed back to the house for lunch, which was prepared on a long, beautiful table outside, situated between the open-air kitchen and the patio.
Sergio and Suso walking back from the beach
Long story short, I ate well this weekend...too well. Living right on the water and with Suso's uncle a professional fisherman, we enjoyed a plethora of seafood dishes--many I had never tried before nor had ever seen, but I've learned that often, ignorance is bliss when it comes to dining in Spain. Besides seafood, we enjoyed crab salad, fried potato bites (apparently, Galicia is famous for its potatoes), red sausage and more mystery meat, octopus (a first AND a last), a vegetable they call asparagus, but is really more like hearts of palm, weird Spanish salad, fruit, more Spanish tortilla, empanadas, never-ending bread and wine...AND walnut cakes, ice-cream, and coffee to top off the already massive stomach ache.
I feel little need then to explain the following food coma I experienced after lunch each day and the inevitable 2-hour siesta my body so craved. Looks like I've easily slipped back into my disgusting, gluttonous lifestyle once again, but I BLAME SPAIN!
To state the obvious, lunch is a real ordeal in Spain. I honestly wish anyone from home could have seen what meal time was like, because the picture below just doesn't do it justice. Imagine 20-some Spaniards (and one American chica of course) crowded around a table just big enough to cram all the platters of food and bottles of wine, passing plates, gossiping and laughing and yelling about anything and everything. Many times, we were still at the table nearly three hours later.
Despite the fact that the region of Galicia speaks a dialect of Spanish mixed with Greek (SO sing-songy), I was miraculously able to understand the majority of the exchange (a huge blessing!). They assured me that I spoke "perfectly" and that my pronunciation was dead-on, but much more probable is that they've simply never heard an American try to speak Spanish before. Anyways, I'll take a compliment when I can get it ;)
We wrapped up the tail end of Friday night by visiting the fair and, even later, a concert of a famous Spanish artist, David Ibera. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I was walking out the door, pushing a 2-year-old in a stroller just before midnight to BEGIN the evening festivities.
(from left to right in the front row): Berta (Suso's cousin), Sergio, Ale, Laura (another cousin), and me
Although Saturday was rainy and overcast, the weather did not stunt the days' activities. Beginning the morning (pushing afternoon) lounging in the cafe once again, we strolled the main drag to view the "alfombra." The word literally means rug and that's essentially what it was, except on the street. For this particular holiday (which I still don't completely understand), people in the town decorate the road. They create pictures and designs which tell the story of "el Camino de Santiago" (the journey/way of Saint James) using little more than sand, flowers, coffee, and leaves. We witnessed the comencement of the project in the morning:
Alejandra, Laura, and Sergio
Another fabulous day of painfully stuffed bellies and long siestas, we wrapped up the evening around 2am after fireworks and one more turn at the fair.
The festivities continued on Sunday as we all loaded on Loli and Suso Sr.'s boat. As Solete and I were last to leave the house, Loli was sweet enough to escort us by car, dropping us off ON the dock within just a few feet of the boat--I mean, it's HER boat, she does what she wants!
Our boat was one of many in a water caravan following a boat that carried a shrine to the virgin (which virgin I don't know...de Carmen maybe?) Trying and failing to save my ears from deafening canons and boat horns, we finally reached a point where the passengers threw flowers into the water (though of what this was symbolic I don't know). Clearly I derived a lot of meaning out of this holiday.
The boat carrying the shrine to the mysterious virgin
Since leaving before lunch was obviously out of the question, we didn't leave Galicia until 6pm. Saying goodbye to Loli and Suso's family was a lot harder than I had originally anticipated. It's pretty crazy how quickly I felt as if I were a part of their family myself. Our one tiff was that I was far too timid in waiting to be served. From the very first hour I was in her home she refused to bring me anything as I was supposed to act as if I were in my own home.
If I'm fortunate enough to start a family of my own one day, I hope to have a house like Loli's. She lures friends and family and strangers alike into her home with her hospitality, cooking, and overall charm.
Loading all the kiddos and suitcases into the car, Loli gave me a near-suffocating hug and assured me that I always have a home in Galicia, with or without the Sanchez family. I've never felt so welcomed anywhere ever...much less by complete strangers half-way across the world.
Looks like so much fun! I want a good pic of the whole fam though. So cool you're getting to do so much traveling :) xoxo
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