Photography:
Slideshow Last stop in Leon: Villafranca del Bierzo Rudston Steward
Slideshow The Ancares mountains—protecting Galicia from the rest of Spain Rudston Steward
Slideshow Galician barnacles don’t come cheap Rudston Steward
Slideshow Flush with rural charm Rudston Steward
Slideshow Welcome to Galizia. Now go on. Rudston Steward
Slideshow The decapitating kings of old were not mere figureheads (Samos) Rudston Steward
Slideshow Surveying the green Galician scene (O’ Cebreiro) Rudston Steward
Slideshow The infamous pancake lady of Fonfria—she WILL feed you… Rudston Steward
Slideshow Slate-roofed farmhouse with painted horreo grain-store Rudston Steward
Slideshow Moody vineyard —more Albariño-in-the-making Rudston Steward
Slideshow Every pilgrim pack-dog eventually has its day Rudston Steward
Slideshow Decidedly orthodox shot of Santiago cathedral Rudston Steward
July 29 2010
Trip Planning

The Unorthodox Pilgrim

By Rudston Steward

Europe, Spain, Galicia

The real draw of the Camino de Santiago is not the cathedral in Compostela, with its holy bones, but the region of Galicia itself: its dense green hills, quirky Celtic roots, and Gallego superstitions. And the amazing seafood produced on its stark coastline.

The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela has become increasingly popular. This is not due to an upsurge in religious piety amongst the global travelling set. It is, rather, because the epic route across northern Spain has an unsung jewel in its crown: Galicia. Despite being a non-believer I’ve done the pilgrimage half a dozen times, in various ways, simply because travelling through Galicia is unflaggingly fascinating, spectacular and delicious.

There are multiple options for getting to Santiago (on foot, bicycle, donkey, car, bus, plane, horse-drawn cart, etc.) and a wide range of accommodation is available (from the humblest dormitory-style refuge to the thunderous luxury of the five-star Paradors). No matter how you do it, crossing from Leon into Galicia is like traversing a magical threshold: the flat dry plains of the meseta become the verdant mountains of Ancares; industrial farms turn into smallholdings flush with rural charm; Celtic music played on Galician gaita bagpipes starts to rule the airwaves; instead of more pork and eggs your table now overflows with seafood and spicy roasted peppers from Padron.

Beyond the orthodox glow of the cathedral and its tourist crowds, the city of Santiago is a vibrant university town, culturally diverse, gastronomically over-endowed, crammed full of artists. You can hardly step onto the street without being swept up in an impromptu concert or marching band or orchestral manoeuvers in the Galician dark. For dinner simply stroll down Rua do Franco or Rua Nova and get stuck into platters of pulpo (octopus), mussels, razor clams, scallops, and that odd gastronomic wonder of the Galician coast, percebes (gooseneck barnacles). Or, to sample the cutting edge of the new Galician cuisine, try the tasting menu at Casa Marcelo. Then seal the meal deal with some aguardiente (literally ‘fire water’)—served properly it will approach your table in a burning cauldron (called a queimada), with lemon peel, sugar and coffee beans. And much spirited chanting of the appropriate Gallego spell to ward off evil spirits.

Beyond Santiago lies Finisterre and the extremely rugged and often beautiful Galician coastline, punctured by a series of river estuaries and wild rocky beaches. The Celts considered this coast the end of the world; I consider it a place where unorthodox pilgrims contemplate the eternal return to Galicia—and start planning their next trip.

For 5-star Parador luxury in Santiago: www.paradores.es/en/portal.do
For an efficient 3-star alternative try Hotel Herradura: www.hotelherradura.es
For that odd gastronomic wonder: www.westcoastaquatic.ca/Percebes.htm
To ward off evil spirits use this spell: www.queimadasgalicia.com/spellofthequeimada.html

Rudston Steward has more stamps in his passport than an international jewel-thief. But he prefers truffles to diamond heists, and he's a fine-tuned nose to the ground for Trufflepig in Spain, Jordan, Greece, Italy and beyond.