Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
Another sunny morning and the joggers and walkers are out again. We decide we saw A Coruna quite closely yesterday so we drive along the sea front underneath the orange iron standards which support the tram wires and street lamps. On the way we see some of the ornate old balconies which are gradually being screened over, turning elegant baroque facades into modern glass towers.
We have good views of the sea, bright blue and green today, and the white spume crashing on the rocks as we climb away from the city into pretty woodland for a good few miles, before we leave the motorway briefly to find fuel in a garage with attendant service by a happy chappy who speaks English. The garage sells all sorts of stuff, including a magazine specialising in cannabis.
Further on the landscape starts to resemble the Yorkshire Moors and the Peak District, a big difference from all the dryness further south. We pull off the motorway into another small village, Alba, and park for lunch next to an ornate cemetery with a large wall of family tombs which, unfortunately, looks like a row of granite port-a-loos with plastic flowers on the doors.
After lunch we get our own back on Snoopy for yesterday as we travel on a brand new section of road which bridges valleys and gorges for about 12 miles, causing him to think we are driving across uncharted moorland, binging and bonging as he gets an idea then realises it won't work. Meanwhile the views are spectacular as we fly high over the old winding scenic route below and saving 45 minutes journey time.
As we near the coast and get views of the sea we have to slow to cope with the cross winds before we finally leave the motorway and head down a steep road into the port at Cudillero where we can camp in the harbour car park. There are three vans already in including one other Brit, a couple from Norfolk who arrived in Spain two days ago.
We get out and wander round the port, a large basin enclosed by high sea walls. But we can still see spray rising above them in the strong wind. Colourful fishing boats are unloading at the quay, while out on the far wall a dozen or so anglers [is the collective noun for angers 'a line'?] are dangling their rods. A few have caught a fish or two, mullet and bream, but one has 6 small mullet alongside 8 empty beer bottles, so it looks like mullet are fond of San Miguel - top tip.
We wander on into town. Apparently it is almost impossible to find accommodation in summer as the port is so popular, but today the colourful, narrow streets are almost empty. Sadly it looks like none of the restaurants are open either, so we head back to the harbour and have pasta and roast vegetables for supper. We are just dishing up when there is a knock on the door; it is Mrs Norfolk saying 'Emergency, help!' and holding a bottle of wine with a broken cork. Ali quickly opens it and everyone is happy.
After supper the full moon creates fabulous reflections on the harbour. We are all dog-tired and in bed soon after 22:00
- comments
Chris What about a dangle of anglers????? Xxxx