Morons in Morocco!!!

The in-room heaters were positively luxurious last night - it's been a while since we've truly had a warm, cozy sleep. Unfortunately, none of the heat made it into the bathroom, which was absolutely frigid! It was a bit dangerous stepping out of the shower this morning (which had tons of hot water, thankfully), as icicles almost immediately started forming on various parts of the body (you don't want to know exactly where ...)

We dragged ourselves to the bus stop for Victoria Station - last night, Katsiaryna commented on our choice of accommodations, saying it wasn't exactly a particularly nice or popular neighbourhood. This was especially obvious during this very early hour, with the streets dark and empty - the hostel is located right along the Thames and just down from the Battersea Power Station, and we realized it was the type of area that would be perfect for disposing of a body.

Silly us - fearful of London's notorious traffic, we woke up extra early today to give us plenty of time to get to Victoria Station, and to get from there to Gatwick airport. Only when we stood waiting for the bus did we realize that it was a Saturday, so we could have slept in some more. We've gone from Morons in Morocco to Morons in the UK!!!

Arriving so early at Victoria allowed us to grab some breakfast, and also some food to later snack on. This turned out to be a great idea because surprise, surprise - another one of our flights was delayed. I think this is a record - not a single flight on this trip has been on time! But why can't there ever be a flight departing Spain that is delayed to the point where I can never leave, forever stranded in paradise? Oh, to live such a beautiful dream ...

Our time at the airport consisted of shopping, walking, eating, and bawling our eyes out at the prospect of returning home. OK, so Mary didn't bawl, only me. Is it that wrong for a man to show some emotion? To sob like a little baby who's had his candy taken away? To throw a temper tantrum in the middle of one of the world's busiest airports, bellowing at the top of his lungs "I don't wanna go home!!!!"

After airport security tranquilized me, it was a very uneventful flight back home. Some crappy food and some crappy movies, and the next you thing you know, we were back in Calgary. All in all, this was one of the strangest trips I've had the pleasure of taking, in quite some time. It was atypical in that it was nearly devoid of any introspective moments or epiphanies, those experiences that usually make travel such a deep and life-changing experience.

As much as meeting and interacting with people from different walks of life is one of the highlights of any trip, many times it is the moments of solitude that bring forth deep thought, conjuring up the most profound experiences. Moments where a certain path forward in life materializes, or where the seeds of resolution are planted and begin to grow, giving meaning to incomplete or ill-defined thoughts. Those moments offer the sensation of embarking upon a journey, and a sense of belonging, of being part of something greater, something not yet understood.

As a result, this trip was oddly unfulfilling ... my inability to cope with Morocco's assault on the senses didn't help, either. After long days in the medinas with nary a second of peace, my brain was routinely battered into a pulp. It felt like my head was going to explode, bursting at the seams with cacophonous echoes and disjointed images, vestiges of the day's earlier experiences. Many times, I wanted nothing more than a moment to myself, where a single coherent thought could be formed before it was shattered by the grating shouts of a tout or a hustler. It's surprising how much you can long for the ability to go fifteen minutes without having to see, or speak to another person. Even more surprising is how difficult it was to find those precious few moments while on this trip.

That's not to say there weren't some memorable experiences during this trip - Essaouira and Chefchaouen were definitely the highlights of Morocco, funky and charming little places perfect for respite from the madness of Moroccan medinas. Getting lost in Casablanca and getting assistance from Malika was also uber-cool, and one of those encounters that you'll always look fondly back upon, because it gave you a profound glimpse into a different culture, and some understanding of the boundaries between cultures, both real and perceived.

All travel is good, but sometimes it's a question of how much personal growth is experienced during the journey ... there wasn't as much this time, as compared to other trips. Even finishing off these blogs was a bit strange - I'm finishing this final entry over two months after we returned, despite having completed probably 70% of the work before getting back to Calgary. I just didn't feel like doing them. To be blunt, the blogs I've written for this trip have been shit, largely because there wasn't sufficient inspiration. Usually, writing these blogs are almost as enjoyable as traveling itself, but not this time. Some friends who typically follow them have even commented as such, saying that it didn't seem like I enjoyed writing them, and that it showed. I'm not arguing!

There is always a song that neatly encapsulates the essence of each trip but this time, not really. In the past, I had specific reasons for certain trips, and sometimes the song of the trip is already defined before even leaving. Usually the song of the trip announces itself during some sort of epiphany during the travels, but occasionally it has happened at the end of the trip, after having time to digest all the things I saw, and all the things I learned. But this time ... I'm still waiting for that to happen!!! How could there be a song for the trip if I could never hear my own thoughts???

So, not wanting to break with tradition, I'll just pick one that really has no meaning in relation to the trip, only that it was a song we heard in Spain, and that I liked. "Llueve por Dentro" by Luis Fonsi, a kick-ass cheesy love song, written and sung in the language seemingly created solely for the purpose of singing cheesy love songs - Spanish! And as usual ... it sounds kinda crappy when translated into English! Of course, that could just be due to my questionable translating ...

So finally ... this blog is done, and put out of its misery! Woo hoo! I'd hold a wake for the pathetic dead bastard, but would anybody even give a shit?

Llueve por Dentro

by Luis Fonsi

Que puedo hacer (What can I do) Llueve por dentro (It rains inside) Y el corazon me duele y se deshace (And my heart hurts and falls apart) Pienso en ti (I think of you) Quiero volar y remontar esta tristeza para escaparme (I want to fly and overcome this sadness, to escape) Quiero vivir (I want to live) Por siempre junto a ti, no importa nada (Forever with you, nothing matters) Y huir este silencio que se roba mis mañanas, libera y acorrala (And escape this silence that steals my tomorrows)

Hoy llueve por dentro de mi,en mi (Today it rains inside of me, in me) Atravieso el cielo por ti (I cross the heavens for you) Se inunda el corazon mientras te pienso (My heart floods while I think of you) Cuando tu no estas llueve por dentro (When you are not it rains inside)

Que puedo hacer (What can I do) Si tu mirada se clava en mi (If your gaze remains with me) Luego me arranca el alma no hay adios (Later my soul is ripped out, there is no goodbye) Solo hay entre tu y yo una distancia (There is only a distance between you and I) Que nos separa (That separates us) Quiero reir (I want to laugh) Como lo hicimos esa madrugada (Like we smiled that dawn) Y poco a poco rescatar el sol de tus mañanas (And little by little rescue the sun in your tomorrows) Y el viento entre tus alas (And the wind between your wings)

Hoy llueve por dentro de mi,en mi (Today it rains inside of me, in me) Atravieso el cielo por ti (I cross the heavens for you) Se inunda el corazon mientras te pienso (My heart floods while I think of you) Cuando tu no estas llueve por dentro (When you are not it rains inside)

No es imposible amar de lejos, de lejos (It's not impossible to love from a distance, from a distance) Pero siento que muero si no te tengo (But I feel like I'm dying if I don't have you) Hoy llueve por dentro (Today it rains inside) Atravieso el cielo por ti (I cross the heavens for you) Se inunda el corazon mientras te pienso (My heart floods while I think of you) Cuando tu no estas llueve por dentro (When you are not it rains inside)

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The final full day of the trip - up very early to catch a flight back to London; way too early, in hindsight. La Coruna's got a pretty small airport, so there was no need to allow for too much time beforehand, as security and customs were a breeze. However, the weather was not so cooperative - it was a chilly damp morning, and the sidewalks at the airport were actually icy, and I almost bailed as I jumped from the bus to the curb, a distance of at least a foot, slipping as I landed.

I quickly yelled back to Mary, warning about the ice, but figured she wouldn't try and jump the gap like I did, since it was a bit of a leap, even for me - wrong! Next thing I know, she's doing the splits like a member of the Chinese national gymnastics team and I'm pulling her off the ground! It's definitely been a dangerous trip for her - falling off one sidewalk, doing the splits here, being eaten alive by bugs, and narrowly escaping becoming another one of Hamou's harem girls in the Sahara.

We weren't sure if we'd make it to London today, as flights scheduled to depart before ours were being canceled or diverted to the nearby Santiago airport. It seemed like our flight would depart as scheduled, as we had gone to the gate and had our passports stamped - but only minutes later, the PA came on to inform us that our flight had also been diverted to Santiago, and that we would be sent by bus to catch our flight from there. We were told that further details would follow in 30 minutes. I took this as a sign that I'm supposed to return to Santiago to find the Spanish Tina Fey.

Almost two hours later, another announcement was made, saying that more information would be available in 30 minutes - OK ... inquiring at the airport's information desk, we were told that instead of sending us by bus, they were trying to send the plane back to La Coruna, as weather conditions had improved significantly. I took this as a sign that I'm not supposed to return to Santiago to find the Spanish Tina Fey. I took it as a sign that I need to one day return to La Coruna to see if the lady at Pension Las Rias has a single sister.

We finally boarded after having gone through customs one more time, since the officials had voided our last stamp when we were supposed to be re-routed through Santiago. While boarding, a cute little hippie Spanish senorita was having issues getting her carry-on up into the overhead compartment, asking for my assistance. As the gentleman that I am, I of course obliged, but was later troubled to see that she was traveling all by her little lonesome, sitting in a row all by herself. I was concerned - perhaps she needed someone to sit with her and keep her company? What if she got lonely? Or scared? Or needed to retrieve something from her suitcase? I become such an altruistic man when traveling through Spain ...

Though they boarded us very quickly, there were some mechanical issues that caused us to sit in the plane for almost an hour before departing. It seemed quite silly and pointless ... but perhaps they did so just to clear the backlog of passengers waiting in the terminal.

Finally - London! Clearing customs was lightning fast and we were soon on the tube, bound for central London. Having not had much of a chance to eat anything, we considered mugging a young guy on board, who sat down across from us with a large takeout container of chips. Hoping that he thought like Hamou, I offered Mary in exchange for the chips, but he declined

We should have arrived by 10:40 AM and been checked in to the hostel and having lunch around noon, giving us lots of time to head down to Leicester Square to see which half-price tickets were available for tonight's shows, and walk around Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden. But with the delays, we didn't get to the hostel until almost 4 PM, scuttling that plan. London was cold, but not quite as bad as we had expected - there was a fair bit of snow and some ice on the sidewalks, making the walk to the hostel a bit of a pain.

Travel Joy Hostel - a bit of a risk booking here, as though it had a very good 91% rating on Hostelbookers, this was based only on seven reviews, so we had no idea if it would be any good. I figured that it couldn't be any worse than the Ace Hotel, which had declined significantly since the first time I stayed there, almost four years ago. I'd definitely say that the 91% rating is quite high, as any rating over 90% suggests a place is top notch. It's not that it was bad, it's just that there was nothing about it that stood out, and it certainly was no better than Ace, which was now rated at around 80%.

Quickly settling in, we bolted soon after, as we were to meet Katsiyarina for an early dinner, to accommodate the theatre plans we had originally wanted to make. We did have some time to walk from Trafalgar Square to the restaurant in Covent Garden, so we were able to see a bit of London tonight.

Sofra - I ate here only three weeks ago, but came back firstly because the food was good, but also because quickly putting together a plan for tonight meant picking something familiar, to make things easy. Despite having been to London numerous times before, I can`t say I know the local restaurant scene at all.

I was dying to ask Katsiyarina one thing - given that she's from Belarus, she must have experienced brutal winters like those back in Canada. How do they compare to London winters? Both Mary and I were curious - is it really that cold here, or are we just wimps? Katsiyarina confirmed it - the damp weather makes it feel extremely cold, and that being able to withstand -30 C temperatures does not guarantee being able to adequately cope with the weather here.

It's always nice to meet up with a familiar face while traveling, even if you don't know them all that well - we had stayed at the same hostel in Barcelona for a few nights this past summer so really, we only knew the basics about each other. But that's the beauty of backpacking - you tend to meet types that are eager to talk with other travelers, and who are open to meeting up again with someone they hardly know.

We all walked back towards Trafalgar Square, which is where Katsiyarina preferred to catch the tube. For us, it didn't really matter where we left from, as our bus retraced the path back from Covent Garden to Trafalgar square - but this gave us the chance to walk a bit, and to also get a few restaurant recommendations from Katsiyarina, for future reference.

Back at the hostel - a Chilean couple was in the room, and it proved that it truly is a small world. Both were from Vina del Mar, where I happened to be last December, so that was a natural ice breaker (see blog entry entitled "Foiled - Ben's Kidnapping!!!" Http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pwong/7/1231037160/tpod.html#_)

Then they asked where we were from - they were quite interested as to which city, when we told them we were Canadian. When we said Calgary, they laughed - the guy was wearing a hoodie that said "U of C", and at first, I assumed it was referring to some other university, as why would a Chilean guy attend university in Calgary?

Well, turns out he spent a year there in 2009, and she one semester in 2006. Then the coincidences got a little weird - he was studying mechanical engineering. And ... the girl told us her name - Isabel! I chuckled a little on the inside hearing that, but then she went on to say that her full name was actually Maria Isabel - we all laughed when we told them Mary's name.

Even funnier - the guy's name was Fernando, the same name we dubbed that random security guard in Madrid a few years ago, as the man of Mary's dreams. Hmmm ... is this some sign from above? We named the security guard Fernando, because of Spanish history - if the girl I thought was the prettiest in all of Spain was named Isabel, it would stand to reason that the hottest guy in all of Spain, as Mary thought the security guard was, would have to be named Fernando. Queen Isabel and King Fernando were probably the most famous royal couple in Spanish history, after all!

Apparently this Fernando and Isabel get teased a lot about this fact by friends. I guess with two names like that, it was meant to for them to be! Perhaps it`s a signal to Mary that she needs to go find this random security guard from Madrid.

I`m always on the lookout for "signs" from above telling me to return to Spain, always as more of a joke, than anything else. For me, returning to Spain is as inevitable as the return of Spring after a long, harsh Canadian winter. But these little signs I seemingly always encounter are a good way of making up some bizarre excuse for returning to my adopted homeland, yet again. But we`ve all got to admit how funny and strange tonight`s encounter was ... perhaps one day moving to Spain really is in the stars?

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A rare treat today - sleeping in past 10! There have been a lot of early mornings on this trip, so a bit of extra sleep was quite welcome. We had breakfast close to noon at Cafe Valor, located on Praza Maria Pita. The square has been dead pretty much our entire time here in La Coruna because of the cold weather, which has been a big disappointment.

Over to the San Agustin market - had it not been so rainy and cold and had our stomachs not been bursting with churros con chocolate, we would have picked up a picnic here to take out to the Hercules Tower. It's an incredible spot for a picnic, but not with weather like today's.

The rain was coming down hard so we pushed back our plans to check out the fort, instead shopping in the pedestrian zone. Stores were packed today, since even bigger sales were starting - in Spain, the big sales after the holidays take place in two stages. With Christmas Day and the Day of Three Kings separated by just over a week, it would be like if Canada had two Boxing Days. Discounts are steeper after the Day of Three Kings, but the selection is much more picked over.

We stayed indoor as much as we could until the weather improved - by now, a few hours had passed since our massive churro gorge fest, so we decided to have lunch before heading out to see La Coruna's ocean-side attractions. That yummy kebab shop we went to in Santiago has a few branches here, so eating there again was a no-brainer. The menu at this location was a bit smaller, though they did have one addition - baklava! But at 3 Euros, it was too pricey for such a small, yet so incredibly yummy, dessert. Once again the kebabs were great, but Mary was more impressed by the guys working there ...

Off to the castle - we didn't bother going in, only taking a few pictures from the outside. After that, we had some difficulty getting to the Hercules Tower as the wind had REALLY picked up, making it difficult to walk even ten feet. It was brutal on the exposed waterfront, so we backtracked inland and caught a bus there.

It was just as bad out at the tower, so we weren't able to spend much time outside of it. The inside of the tower was nothing great, especially since the windows were sealed up for the winter, and access to the elevated outside sections was restricted. The main reason for ascending the tower is the views of the rocky coastline, so that was a bit disappointing. Though this probably was a safety measure, as given how bad it was on ground level, the wind up top probably would have blown us all the way back to Morocco.

A bit of relaxing back at the Pension, and it was time for our last tapas crawl of the trip - trying to eat early tonight just after 7 we didn't have any luck, with the first place telling us to return at 7:30, since the kitchen had yet to open. Wandering throughout the entire pedestrian zone and also Praza Maria Pita, there weren't any places with tapas available for immediate consumption, with the exception of one place that was completely packed. We eventually hit up a couple of bars for a light and early dinner.

It was another quiet Spanish night here in La Coruna, with hardly anybody out in the streets, really quite the opposite of what you would expect in Spain, and not the way you want to end a trip to this most beautiful of countries. Though the night was salvaged somewhat with a return trip to the kebab shop - the workers there were very friendly the first time and seemed shocked to see me a second time. I don't know why, given how good their kebabs are - who wouldn't want to return?

I grabbed one for takeaway, along with an Estrella - the guy invited me for a coffee, but I told him I couldn't tonight. When he offered tomorrow, I told him it would have to be next time in La Coruna, since we were leaving the country early in the morning. After our brief discussion, I learned one important thing about kebabs - according to him, the best kebab shops are run by Turkish people, especially ones with a Kurdish background. Next time I eat at a kebab shop, I'll have to inquire as to the ethnicity of the owner before eating!

I crammed down the kebab on the short walk back to the pension, like so many other kebabs I have eaten in Europe. Just down the street from the pension, I disposed of the trash in a dumpster and as I did so, I saw a very pretty Spanish senorita come my way. Totally checking her out, as she got closer I realized that it was the lady from the pension! She waved and said hello, probably wondering why I was skulking around a dumpster.

It was a super early night, as we need to be up just after 6 AM tomorrow, for our flight back to London. No more Spain ... sigh ...

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Up early for mass at the Cathedral - scheduled for today is a swinging of the botafumeiro, a giant incense burner that swings through the nave. It normally only happens about 25 times per year, but we are lucky that 2010 is considered a holy year, when it swings almost daily. Supposedly, the tradition of the botafumeiro started as a means of combating the smell of the pilgrims that arrived at the cathedral, its sweet smelling smoke covering up the skank of dirty backpackers! We attended mass because we weren't sure if it was necessary to do so to also witness the botafumeiro in action; we definitely didn't want to show up at 11:30 only to find the doors locked.

But before that was breakfast at the same cafe as yesterday - even deader, as we were the only two customers in the whole place, as opposed to two of maybe five yesterday morning. the coffee was so good here that it warranted a return visit, though the pastries on offer were nothing special.

The last stop along the camino before reaching Santiago is only about a two hour hike away, so we had hoped to see pilgrims arriving and gathering on Praza de Obradoiro just before the 10:00 AM mass, but there were none to be found. Perhaps it's the time of year, as hiking in such chilly and rainy conditions would make the journey even more arduous than normal. It was a shame, because I have some incredible memories from here the first time, of watching pilgrims arriving on the Praza, completely overcome with emotion.

They showed up physically broken, but you could witness an emotional and spiritual awakening as their journey finally ended, and actually see it physically manifest itself - the limps seemed to go away, and hunched postures improved. Even more powerful was when pilgrims who had arrived separately reunited with others they had met along the way, sharing hugs and laughs, and taking photos together. You can never forget seeing something like that, and it definitely makes you consider undertaking something like the Camino de Santiago. The idea entered my mind when I came here over four years ago, and crept back into my mind this time around. Perhaps one day ...

We sat through the first part of mass but partway through decided to tour the cathedral, which we later found out was a no-no during mass. It ended quickly and turned out that we didn't need to attend mass in order to see the botafumeiro at 11:30. We walked around and had a coffee before returning for the ceremony.

During mass I remember seeing the botafumeiro and thinking "It's definitely not as big as the guidebook described, and not as fancy as postcards would suggest." But they ended up replacing the simple one with a fancy one, buffed to a sheen, for the actual ceremony. The cathedral was now packed for the swinging of the botafumeiro, as opposed to the nearly empty cathedral for the earlier mass. I was a bit surprised that so few attended earlier since today was a religious holiday, and you would have expected that people would show up in droves.

Having some time to kill before our afternoon train to La Coruna we wandered around town and over to La Alameda, a nice little park offering great views of the cathedral. Getting cold and also because it was a good idea to eat something before leaving town, we popped into a kebab shop - always a good place to warm up, because those kebab ovens put out an insane amount of heat! This is normally a bad thing if you visit a kebab shop during the summertime in Spain, where you can't sit inside or you'll be sweating buckets. But in the cold winters of Santiago, it's a very pleasant experience!

Back to the hostal to pick up our bags and off to the train station - on our way, a couple of locals stopped us and asked if we were Korean. I had a flashback to all those moments in Morocco where we were addressed in a similar fashion, and was half expecting some kind of hustle. They were just curious about pilgrims that visit Santiago, because over the years they are seeing more people coming from more countries, and were wondering what our story was. I explained that we were Canadian and that we took the shortest camino possible - walking from the bus station to get to Santiago, and walking to the train station to leave! They laughed, but were probably less than impressed by our tale.

This part of Spain is beautiful, offering some incredible scenery; it was a shame that the ride to La Coruna is only about 45 minutes, because some parts of Galicia are straight out of a fantasy novel - lush green forest and hills, all embraced in fog. You half expect to see dragons and knights emerging from the trees. Interesting note - we paid something like 10 Euros for our train ride today, but on the internet there was an option to get a private compartment with two beds. The price? 147 Euros!!! Who the hell would want a bed for such a short journey?

Because it was a holiday buses weren't running that frequently - rather than wait 40+ minutes for the bus from the station to the centre of La Coruna, we walked the 25 minutes. I remembered how difficult it was navigating certain streets in La Coruna, because there really aren't any direct routes to get to the centre from this area, and sometimes you have to climb up or down stairs to get to the correct street.

We checked in to Pension Las Rias - I had tried booking a room here this past summer but had no luck, as they were full. I regretted that greatly upon arrival today - Spain ... and its beautiful receptionists at its hotels, hostals, and pensions ... sigh ... and unfortunately yet again, this one appeared to be taken, as I think she ran the hostal with her husband or boyfriend. But perhaps I should inquire if she has a single sister ... or cousin ... she was the quintessential Spanish senorita, so pretty that it almost makes you want to cry. Spanish beauty is always difficult to describe and is something you need to experience for yourself. There's just something so striking about how a senorita's eyes light up when she smiles ... sigh ... Spain ...

Since there was a tiny bit of sun out and the temperature had risen slightly (or perhaps it only seemed that way after meeting the receptionist ...), we popped over to the two main beaches in town, Playas Orzan and Riazor, for some pictures. Though not quite as beautiful as this past summer when it was warm and sunny, it's still nice to go and see the ocean in Galicia. It`s one of those places where the one thing more beautiful than the scenery, is witnessing the awesome power of the waves, continually pounding and receding from the coastline.

Praza Maria Pita was pretty dead as was most of the old town, a big difference from August during La Coruna's main festival season - the Praza was converted into a giant outdoor venue for numerous classical music performances. The square was always packed in the evenings with people attending the concerts, or just sitting in the restaurants and cafes along the perimeter having dinner or drinks. The surrounding streets were also bustling with people shopping, strolling, and enjoying the cafe scene.

Picking up some water at a little shop, I asked the lady why it was so quiet today, if it was because everybody was home with their families for the Day of the Three Kings. Apparently, it had nothing to do with that - it's too cold right now, so everybody is staying home. I absolutely loved it here this past summer for many reasons - the beautiful coastline, the gorgeous natural scenery of the region, the lively evenings, the friendly people, and the fact that La Coruna seems to be less touristy than other regions in Spain ... it was definitely near the top of my list for places to live in Spain if I ever decide to do so. But after experiencing the cold damp winter here, it's dropped a few spots!

Dinner on Praza Maria Pita would have been ideal tonight but it was too quiet, with none of the restaurants offering anything too enticing, so we explored the nearby streets, finding a number of seafood restaurants with a few tasty-sounding options. We chose one of the busier ones, hoping it was a good sign.

Many places offered assorted grilled seafood platters, and this one offered a good selection for 35 Euros. Turned out that the price was no longer available, as the menu inside listed it as 50 Euros. Given that Spain's food can be pretty mediocre at times we decided the platter wasn't worth the risk, and also because the table next to us had ordered a cazuela, a big clay pot used to cook seafood soups in Spain, which looked positively yummy.

After last night's good experience with the caldeirada, we decided to order that again tonight. But unfortunately, it wasn't served to us by a beautiful Spanish Tina Fey, but instead by a pretty bad waiter, who never greeted us upon entering and never provided a menu for quite some time, until the bartender asked him to do so. All in all, it was a pretty decent meal, shoddy service aside.

Spanish evenings are best enjoyed by walking around after dinner, people watching, and taking in the lively atmosphere. But tonight was too cold and dead, so our only walk was a short one back to the Pension. Unexpectedly, La Coruna was strangely quiet ...

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Though our bus departed Salamanca nearly 30 minutes late, we still arrived in Santiago de Compostela a few minutes ahead of schedule, surprisingly. Also a surprise was how cold and dark it was - it looked like the middle of the night, and the sun didn't start to brighten the sky until well after 9 AM. We made our way down to the Hostal Pazo de Agra - though we had asked for an early check-in, we figured the room wouldn't be ready so early, and decided to first have breakfast at nearby Cafe Jacobs.

We checked into our hostal shortly after, and I dropped off some laundry - incredibly expensive, at 18 Euros! Even though I only had one large load they charged for two, because of mixed colours. I explained that I didn't care if the colours and whites were mixed up, but I guess that's not how they did it there.

Off to sightsee - first was the Museum of the Galician People, describing the way of life of the people of the region. Everything was in Galician, but that didn't matter as a lot of things were somewhat self-explanatory. The museum is located inside of a convent, with very peaceful cloisters.

Next door is the Galician Contemporary Art Museum and as is typical of contemporary art for me, I couldn't make much sense of any of it. One interesting item was entitled "Instant Narrative", and was unique because as you entered the main gallery, there was a woman typing away on a laptop, and whatever she was typing was projected on a screen on the far end of the gallery. She was describing what she was seeing, which meant writing about the people walking through the gallery. We thought it was pretty entertaining, especially when we were described as "The guy and girl with the oriental features." It's a good thing the museum wasn't very busy today, otherwise her commentary would have read "The guy with the oriental features checks out a beautiful Spanish girl. He wipes the drool off his chin. He quickly snaps his head around to check out another one. Seemingly in pain, he rubs his neck after the whiplash."

The auditorium was exhibiting a number of stop-motion short movies, one reminiscent of "The Nightmare Before Christmas". It was actually very dark, and I suspect that most of the kids in attendance would be having nightmares about it that night. The movie we watched was actually rather engrossing, despite its strange themes.

It's been almost five years since I was first in Santiago and honestly, I don't remember a whole lot about it other than its famous cathedral. But as we walked around town, much of it started coming back to me, and I recognized many buildings and streets. We wandered through the central market before stopping for lunch at Cre-Cotte. A recent trend continued, where workers at restaurants and hotels end up looking like famous people - one of the waiters had a shaved head and looked like somebody, though we couldn't quite put our fingers on who. Overall, it was a decent meal which was nice, as there have been a few good ones in a row, something I'm unaccustomed to while traveling through Spain.

Back to the hostal for a short siesta (the lack of sleep last night was really hitting us both), before heading over to the Museum of Pilgrimages, which described not only Santiago's famous pilgrimage, but also some in other countries. There was a particularly interesting section on some of the more notable pilgrims over the years, and the story of a guy named Guillaume Manier struck a chord withe me - after completing his camino, his writings about the journey included comments on the beauty of women! So even several hundred years ago, male travelers knew that Spain had a lot to offer, in that regard!

There was a very interesting photo exhibit by Sabine Weiss, entitled "Man and His Beliefs", spanning several years of her work, showing people in settings that reflect their beliefs, generally in a religious context. The museum was good, but there was a bit too much information to digest in one session.

After picking up our very expensive laundry the streets were filled with people, for a parade celebrating the Day of the Kings. I would have enjoyed it more, had I not been bogged down with two big bags of laundry we just picked up, but it was still neat to see.

Unfortunately for us, the cathedral was closed tonight but no matter, since we planned on being there in the morning for mass. There was some special exhibit at city hall as part of today's celebrations, but the lineup for entry was far too long, and we didn't feel much like waiting outside in the cold for it.

After much deliberation, we ended up at Restaurant San Jaime for dinner, where the meal was good, but the service was even better - the waitress looked like a Spanish Tina Fey. I must admit that I have a thing for Tina Fey, and the Spanish version took that to a whole new level, especially since the Spanish version was wearing some pretty funky glasses.

She gave us a bit of info on the Day of Kings, which I believe celebrates the journey of the Three Kings to Bethlehem, and is like a second Christmas Day for Spaniards and South Americans. Gifts are also exchanged on this day, and people gather with their families for big meals. Spanish Tina Fey did seem put off by me, perhaps thinking Mary and I were together and thinking "What an ass! This guy keeps hitting on me even though his girlfriend is right next to him!|

There was a nice view from the second floor of the restaurant - straight into a restaurant across the street, to a table of lovely senoritas! After a bit more of drooling over them and Spanish Tina Fey, it was time for a walk around town before we got too cold, and headed back to the hostal. A bit of TV time, watching some Spanish reality show about dancing, and it was off to bed, with visions of Spanish Tina Feys dancing through my head!

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