Im finally leaving Fisterra, getting on my way again after such a long time off road it has taken me a day to get things together. Pilar who owns the flat has arranged for the washing-machine to be fixed or more accurately the waste connection which I have been using a bucket for having discovered the problem when I arrived and now as I am leaving the plumber has finally arrived.

Skip to the next picture if you don’t want to read about me bitching about Spanish plumbing.

This being Spain pluming is still evolving, or the people just don’t care, actually I think the people care  its the plumbers who dont give a shit. The Italians too are awful with plumbing, they manufacture beautiful fittings but the state of the plumbing in-country is shocking. What they really need is some Polish, Czech or Slovak plumbers.

The Russians and every eastern European country have great plumbing (oh how am I inviting comments here, I suspect Brad in Moscow will have something to say), typically a shower in these countries involves copious amounts of hot water at pressure from a fixed shower above you.

Getting back on course, the building having been recently constructed by Spanish builders, the original plumbing was cheap and nasty. Nothing is ever done here with a view to maintenance, if you need to fix a pipe in Spain you must completely remove the kitchen and rebuild three walls, two of them in the neighbors bedroom. I know, you think I exaggerate, so go on buy some Spanish property and weep.

As they had no decent tools to clear the blockage (chimpanzees have long mastered the use of a sharp stick), neither chemical or pressure based, they resorted to sealing the end of the pipe and fitting a proper connection to the machine. I was relieved that I left before this was tested as the original work was is so badly done, the pressure will burst a pipe or joint, the washing machine will explode, flood everyone below and require the whole row of apartments to be rebuilt – this last comment may be exaggeration, may be.

In amongst all this you can imagine the  amount of discussion, hand waving, cigarette smoking and beer that was drunk this morning and poor Pilar was continuously mopping the floors around these guys.

How the southern Europeans ever got out of the primordial slime Ill never know, I am a great admirer of the Romans, their technology; roads, aqueducts, cement, sewers etc. In the face of the modern southern European approach,in my eyes at least is even more of an achievement.

Anyway, getting away from all of this was difficult and I only began to pack at 14:00. Pilar was supposed to return around 17:00 to clean the place and I waited until 18:00, but she didn’t appear and I was forced to leave. It is only 30 something km to Muxia but its uphill down dale and was 21:30 before I arrived. Its a truly beautiful part of the world here, but I didn’t stop much to enjoy, just got on with the cycling.

MUXIABy the time I arrived at the Refugio, everyone else was in bed and I had yet to shower and eat, so there was much walking on tip toes, thankfully there were not too many ring-tones, so when those with religious walking fever left from 5am on, my earplugs and I blissfully slept through until 9am.

I had been invited the evening before to dinner but was uncertain if I would stay more than on night, but after a tour of the town decided that at least another night was in order. Accommodation particularly cheap options are not that abundant as Muxia is no where near as touristy as Fisterra and I searched for quite some time until Begonia asked me if I was looking for a room. I had passed her sign earlier with the intention of returning.

She escorted me to the house, installed me in a garden facing room and charged me 20e. I did my best to get the price down but she was having none of it. Its her home, they are a particularly calm family and go to bed early so it was ideal. I found that many of the locals in Muxia were quiet and calm in the face of the boisterous, ebullient Spanish. All the other guests were of a similar disposition and I could not have been happier. When I to return to Muxia I would stay with Begonia again, she is great though after a couple of days it does get tiring with her cleaning up after you each time you shower, wash your face, fill your water bottle etc. The garden is great too, but  she cant leave you alone to enjoy it and is always fussing around you which is a pity.

I went in search of the Pilgrims I had met the night before to join them for dinner, however the directions that the Korean girl Hye Jeong had given me were not that great and I had given up and was deciding what to do next when Hye Jeong, Min and Anika appeared.

As you can see, the exterior is rather unassuming and the interior could not be better if it had been dressed for a 1970’s play.

I sadly don’t have any pictures of Hye Jeong, I did take one with her and Anika but as I have bemoaned before my Canon snaps camera is gone and my LX1 just isn’t that great indoors.

The owner spoke German rather well so our conversations were a confusing mix of German and me trying to get her to speak Spanish so everyone could try and understand. I cant begin to describe how beautiful a soul this woman has; warm, welcoming, loving, generous and with a gentle but wicked sense of humour.

She would ask me in German how to say for example “work” in Korean, I would ask Min, he would not understand, Anika would translate and then the response would follow a similar return path. She would practice the word a couple of times, Min would approve and then she would hand him the table coverings & cutlery and say “work”!

Her daughter was of a similar nature, in a younger prettier package. Thankfully she was always escorted by a handsome young man when she was working in the bar which kept me out of jail.

The food is tremendous, its not the fancy lobster and crab that’s available on the main drag, but everything is very tasty. I had a chipirones stew that was supposed to be a soup and then at the owners encouragement the breaded chicken breast. Everything was succulent and tasty, so I returned my second night and had her version of Merluza – hake.

It was truly fabulous, utterly utterly wonderful and without compare. The Merluza Galego in Fisterra was good but this IS Ambrosia. I had tried and dismissed the table wine and had instead an excellent Ribera as my Nectar. Part of the reason I stayed a third night was to eat here again.

If you visit Muxia you MUST eat at La Sirena, accept the womans recommendations, ignore the guy who works behind the bar, he is a bit of an arse but harmless.

I went for a walk to the end of the Camino,to visit Santuario da Virxe da Barca where  some of the Holy stones that were part of a stone boat that the Virgin sailed, is there no end to the Gullibility of the religious?

This is one of the “Holy Stones”, you can see buss-loads of the devout crawling beneath this for some indeterminable reason. It took a reasonable amount of patience to get this shot without someone religious zealot crawling beneath it.

My last day was a Fiesta of which May seems to have many in Spain. Today was a special day for Galicia and this group were walking around town playing the same tune over and over and over and over and over and over again. Begonia was perplexed as to why I wasn’t that exited to follow them.

Every time a look at this picture haystacks and farmers daughters come to mind, I’ve no idea why.

The people here build into the coast, this church could not be any closer to the sea.

On my way to the church, I saw some fishermen and some Dolphins reaping the bounty of the sea, it was a wonderful sight that my camera equipment is just not capable of capturing, even with a fancy Nikon, I would have probably have needed a helicopter  to get truly good shots.

On the fourth day I tried again for a 15e concession from Begonia but it wasn’t happening so I packed and headed for Negreria. I think she was surprised I called her bluff.

In my last post I talk about the weather changing from one day to the next, well today at the coast I just didn’t notice just how intense the sun was,  but heading inland and climbing the hills of Galicia towards Negreria the sun was merciless.I drank all four liters of water, stopped and drank two fruit juices and despite wearing factor 30 was brown and “well done” by the time I arrived.

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