Faro de Fisterra

As we have no decent signal there will be just photos today, with words to follow. We are in a really thick fog and so although I have ventured up to the top of the road to upload these photos, Angela will put her words up tomorrow.

John

Before we left Pantin Beach, a walk up the hill, saw the sun rise over the headland, the sky stained pink. The area was so beautiful, it made you want to walk for miles along the fern topped cliff top. Down at the beach, the surf was not yet up, a few optimistic surfers made for the waves, but most kept a watchful eye. In the van behind us, the English couple, who we thought looked like Madge a Mel from the television programme Benidorm, right down to their tango orange tan, seemed to take great interest in all our morning activities.

At lunchtime we stopped at A Coruna, by the Tower of Hercules. It is the worlds oldest lighthouse, built by the Romans in the first century A.D. It is now a UNESCO world heritage site. Just before we set off to take a look at the lighthouse, an English couple pulled in to the car park in a very nice classic, Bristol open top touring car. We later saw them again as we approached Finisterre. On our return to Marge after visiting the lighthouse, we noticed the Spanish couple next to us were just programming their two, yes two sat navs! After some fiddling about, and frustrating words aimed at the devices, they set off, only to turn right on to a No Entry side road, before even exiting the car park. Classic! Across the road from the car park was A Coruna old prison. Its design was like no other prison we'd ever seen. If you didn't know, you would never had guessed what the building was.

A Coruna was to be our overnight stop, but the city was so vast, we knew we wouldn't feel comfortable, so decided to eat up some miles and head to the west coast and Finisterre.

We stayed at Finisterre about the same time last year, the weather then was dry, warm and clear, and we witnessed the most fantastic sunset. This time the evening couldn't have been different. The mist rolled in from the sea, drifting around Marge, clearing now and again so you could see where the land met the sea. We walked to the point which is the official end of the Camino de Santiago. As last year there were lots of people milling around. The atmosphere, calm, tranquil, quiet, poignant. We stopped to look at the items, and read some of the messages left by the pilgrims.

So many stories to be told, and messages to leave, written or unspoken. As before we could only feel admiration and respect for the people who'd made the journey.

Pantin Beach

This morning, the lighthouse was playing hide and seek with the sea mist. John spent some time talking to 'Patricia of the pants', and it transpired, the small world that it is, that she used to teach at a school in Thame, a town just ten minutes away from where we live. Small world. 

Our main job today was to find a ferretaria, no not a ferret shop, but a hardware store, as we were a little worried about our camping gas situation. So after some research on the internet, we drove to nearby Ortigueira, where there were two such shops. After some searching and enquiring we found them, and result, we are now fully replenished with a spare cylinder, and it was cheaper than we pay in France. Win, win.

Afterwards, we found a nice spot by the harbour to have our lunch, and thought we may stay there overnight.

But after a walk around the town, which was a little run down, we decided against it. But before we left, John spotted that the disabled toilet behind us had a wet room, which had just be cleaned. Since we have been in Spain, we have been impressed at just how clean the facilities are kept.

So, as it was our shower day, we indulged ourselves. The trouble is, we will want more of the same on Friday, fingers crossed. 

Having become used to nights spent by the sea, we headed a few miles west to Pantin Beach, where we are now parked above the beach. Our view, a wide expanse of cream sand, with the green, blue Sea nibbling at its edges. We are once again in surf land. Their is a nice mix of people here. Young surfers, alongside us older, adventurous people.

There is a Welsh man and his two sons in front of us, in a very interesting Mercedes van, caravan conversion. The man, John, asked us if we'd like to join him surfing at eight thirty in the morning. We made our excuses, but thanked him.  Also here, are a Dutch couple that we got talking to two days ago at Foz.

This evening, we walked down to the waters edge, there were still a few surfers in the water, making the most of the last of the day light. The wind was strong, but not cold, but walking on the soft sand was hard going, a work out in itself. Now, darkness has fallen, and the beach and sea area is a dark abyss.

The lights from the nearby village punctuate the hillside, and look very pretty. As the wind rocks Marge, we can hear the waves breaking on the shore. After so many perfect night stops, the pressure is on to find another one tomorrow. 

San Cibrao

This morning a grey sea mist shrouded the town.

On the quayside, a market was setting up, selling mostly clothes, along side fruit, cheese, salt fish, ham, pork and sausages. After a walk around it, we set off to tonight's stop at San Cibrao, less than twenty miles away. Before our lunch, we walked along the coast, taking in the beach, then up to the lighthouse.

From the lighthouse we could see the aluminium refinery across the bay, and the oil tankers anchored out to sea. Oil prices are rising, so they may well have been told to stay there for a while.

We are now in the Galicia region, with its wild Atlantic coast. The aire is on the edge of town, above a rocky, sandy cove.

After lunch, we walked out again down to the park, taking in an interesting water feature at the entrance, then through the newer part of the town and back along by the cove, past a fantastic ultra modern house, where in the garden a white rabbit lay in the sun enjoying the siesta.

Even though we are only moving on a few miles each day, we are enjoying the chance to explore, walk, read our guide book, and novels, and in John's case fish.

We do not need to be in southern Portugal until the first week of October, so we have plenty of time to travel around the coastline. Tonight on the aire, there is another English couple, in a small VW transporter van. Because of the restrictive size of their van, they have only a porta potti and no shower, so are having to book onto campsites very few days. Luckily for us, Marge is everything we need, so we can park up pretty much anywhere, as we are self sufficient. The other couple have the luxury of a washing machine on the campsite, but we're used to hand washing daily. Saying that, there is a pair of ladies pants hanging drying from the rear view mirror of their van, with wording across them, which although faded seemed to read as Patricia!

After too much spaghetti bolognese, we felt the need to set off out again, in to the town and around by the museum. It was a good call, as we noticed a hardware shop, where according to the internet we should be able to buy a cylinder of camping gas, which is quite important as we are down to our last one, and they only last four weeks. So in the morning we will go back in to town to hopefully purchase one, and if we can't we are sure someone in the shop will direct us to somewhere we can. In France, you can just buy the cylinders in the supermarket, but not here. On our return to Marge, we could see the piercing white light of the lighthouse, imperative to the shipping along this coast.

The road alongside the sea wall, was illuminated with a soft orange glow, it seemed almost timeless, as you very rarely see streetlights this colour these days, now lighting is leaning more towards LED.

We have not yet decided on our destination for tomorrow. We do know however, that the weather will be unsettled for a few days at the end of the week, but hopefully not very much, we have been very lucky with it so far, but whatever it throws at us, we'll take. After all, we're in Spain!