Going to the beach in Galicia, as always, will depend on what the sky says
A few days ago, a dolphin and a razor shellfish diver became friends in Noia. Galicia is a gray place where anything can happen . Here we grow mussels , we make wine on the walls and there are more cows than inhabitants.
Total sinister she sang "Miña terra galega, where the sky is always grey/ terra galega girl, it's hard to be away from you". Yes, it's hard, because we like to imagine ourselves here, in this wild corner . That's why we invented melancholic nostalgia and we named it . Y homesickness it became a name and a verb, and it came to belong to the whole world.
In Galicia everything is possible
It's good and bad at the same time . Here's all, well... Depends . Maybe that's why we answer with another question. Or that we are not ugly, but rich . As a way to see the glass as half full. Even having the funniest coast in the world, there will always be someone who thinks, what if it's sunny? Stay with this detail: for a Galician, summer is his favorite day of the year . But if you do too much We already miss a few drops from the sky . And do not miss leaving home with a jacket. In case it cools down, even if it's 40 degrees outside in the shade.
Galicia is like calling water in a thousand ways, and only one to light . Here time is a state of mind. With the light we bathe, we rub our faces with it, we splash and immerse ourselves in it. We observe the water as one looks at a painting, we read it as one swallows a novel. And this one teaches us that, as with the waves, out of every seven good blows, one is the one that breaks your schemes.
We cry with the burned mountains of Oliver Lax in or what burns , Y Mondays in the sun they left our fists tense from squeezing so much. We learned about the Swiss diaspora with Elizabeth White and we met Sampedro's pain through that bitter and lost look that she put on Mabel Rivera . We go out with jars to clean the sea of tar because it was one of those things worth saving.
Benedicta between ashes.
That's why nothing is what it seems. We have parties where you eat, and food exaltations where you have a party . Great inventions have been made from a garage. Here the garages are home-cooked restaurants.
We like the gargantuan meals with children fluttering around. With bread that is so dense and soft that it absorbs light. We are the fridge of the world . Crabs, peppers that are spicy or not, potatoes with a surname and calves with hair. There are as many good products as there are gastronomic festivals. In Galicia, one can eat and dine at each party in a different town throughout the year and without repeating . And there will always be a grandmother who, not happy with the result, will ask you if you want me to do an egg with potatoes on top.
An Englishwoman called him land of dreams and shipwrecks . And that Galician women were like Amazons. What Rosalia de Castro , that she sang to feelings. Y Emilia Pardo Bazan , who already believed in herself before anyone else. Y Arenal Conception , who disguised herself as a man in order to study. Now we have a Galician in the Magnum agency, and another winning an Eisner.
Rosalia de Castro
The Grand Canyon has a little brother in the Sil River . From above the women said goodbye to their husbands when they went to work, getting carried away by the current of the river.
and there is a forest on the southern border in which, for many years, couples chose their own destiny, because it was land that did not belong to anyone.
At sunset we say goodbye at the end of the world from the top of a stone , next to a lighthouse, where a pilgrimage that takes you to a cathedral that has been watching you arrive for eight centuries tired and with sores on your feet, smiling, because you have realized that the road has only just begun.
World's End? In Galicia