13 September 2019: Vigo In One Lazy Day...

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Does anybody else think Airbnb’s, hotels and apartments should have scales in the bathroom?

My approach to eating could be described as a challenge at times. I don’t care what’s on the plate, I’ll eat it. I don’t care how much they give me, I’ll eat it. And that’s not including the ‘in betweens’; the coffees, ice creams, pastries and....lollies.

I’m a chip off the old block; my dad was the same. If I could at least assess my weight at the start of the day, I might have a day off. As it stands, there are no boundaries. Yesterday , while walking around looking for a minimart , or supermarket, we passed a bright pink shop with rows of plastic trays full of lollies, or sweets to some. I sensed it before I saw it. Chocolates, chocolate coated nuts and things, sour ones, sweet ones, jubes, but I have one type I zero in on. They’re coated in red and black hundreds and thousands, and have aniseed jelly in the black ones and neutral in the red. Luckily you can’t buy them in Australia, or I’d be booked into some Betty Ford Clinic to break the chain of addiction. I know they’re available for the next 5 days and I know where to get them; there’s a man on a corner.....with a shop In Santiago. Previously, I’ve justified gorging myself with the argument that I deserve it, I just walked 800 kilometres. Train kilometres are not the same.

After breakfast in our apartment, Sue and I went to the waterfront to enquire about a boat ride to the islands just off Vigo. The queues were long and the number of boats taking a seemingly endless supply of tourists aboard, plus the many boats returning for a reload, swayed us against the visit. These are pristine pure islands, with natural walking tracks, long sandy beaches, no rubbish bins - you are expected to leave nothing on the island - and hundreds of people climbing, swimming, sun baking, and just taking it all in. I think a visit in November would be better, with winter approaching and out of holiday season. You might be closer to a Robinson Crusoe experience then.

Plan B, developed in a rush when Plan A, the only plan, collapsed, was to walk to the highest point in the city, the Castelo Do Castro., built on the steep Mount of Castro in the 17-18th centuries. It was a real endurance test for Sue and quietened me down while approaching the endless flights of unusually steep treaded stairs. Eventually I went on alone to see if it was worth Sue’s effort; it wasn’t. The views were amazing and the memorial of rusty anchors and cannons was interesting, but another 50 metres of climbing didn’t justify it to me.

We then ventured around to the display of traditional Galician stone buildings with the course thatched roofs. Again, this was closed and surrounded by a novel barrier constructed out of concrete trench mesh. If it was open it wouldn’t have been worth the effort.

I’m not complaining, but so far the day has been great exercise, with little to show for it. We did pass some novel monuments, ancient olive trees (one in a planter box that was 200 years old ), but unless I can download a few pictures for you, it’s a moot point. I tried earlier to place some photos on this blog but, despite it going through all the right motion for a successful up load, the coded photo descriptions appear, with no actual image. Twelve months ago that would have really pissed me off, but you know what, I can only control what I can, so it may be no pics today. No one will die, we’ll all survive. No worries.

The return to our district down near the waterside revealed a few surprises. As we crossed the road at the base of the park the Castle is in, we noticed a camp of mainly red tents and other flimsy material shelters, established in a barricaded area next to the large civic police compound. The inhabitants were all African from where I could see, and apparently this is a refugee camp, condoned by the authorities. These people, mainly men, are exposed to the heat, wind and rain that would belt them relentlessly on that exposed peak. These are the same individuals who sell bags, hats, trinkets and scarves, laid out neatly, down by the waters edge near the island cruise moorings. Working on consignment, lean days would be common, and this for people with no assistance. They must help each other out, or move on. They are friendly, never hassled or intimidated us, and I’d rather them than the beggars who persistently follow you after a polite refusal. I had one guy follow behind me for at least 100 metres yesterday, and my hand never left my wallet. The ladies in one of my pictures yesterday tried to sell me a small wooden owl for ‘ diez ‘, ten euros. I told her she was dreaming, offered her my change as a donation with no goods traded, and she quickly assessed the amount, shook her head in disgust, mumbled something I’m glad I never heard, and walked away.....with my change. She told me about her daughters in Senegal, offered me a blessing, anything for the 10€. I told her I had 2 sons and they don’t want her owl. But she took the change; about 4€ I think, with a mix of those pesky tiny brown coins.

The other thing we noticed as we came down a different way was the series of escalators taking people to where we had just come from. They were only built for going up, so they were still useless to us . They finished almost at the plaza near our apartment. Sorry Sue.

After some paella for lunch and a 2 scoop cone for dessert, all was forgiven, and we are taking it easy until it’s time to walk down to the harbour for sunset. Sue didn’t bother last night but is keen for a last opportunity.

I’ll give the pics another try. Otherwise see you in Santiago de Compostela.

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Photos

The Bin Of Sin: Should Be A Health Warning On These
100 percent sugar and available on the streets. I love the crunch you feel as you pass through to the soft jelly centre. I bought all of these; the cupboard is bare.

We’ve All Had Days Like This.
Vigo has some great street art and this example lies, literally, down by the waterside.

200 Year Old Olive Tree
Located at the door of Collegiata de Santa Maria, a church near us that becomes party central at night, with people of all ages gathered to drink, eat, and be merry. And it’s in a planter box.

Basket Weavers Street, Vigo
Short but interesting, people still practice the craft of weaving household items and decorations out of thin canes and straw. Probably not straw, but you know what I mean.

One For GOT Fans
Another bit of art

View of the river from the Castle
The tiny blue section of this picture turned out to be the refugee camp. Blue tents and makeshift awnings comprise the only shelter from the harsh conditions.

Castelo San Sebastián
Hilltop fortress built in 1665 during the Portuguese Restoration War, in order to hold off the English invaders

O Castro
The city’s lookout point, there is still some fragments of the old defensive walls, and the remains of Fortaleza de San Sebastián. This is set in a lush park planted with a variety of selected trees, well kept lawns and gardens, all connected by paths and many, many stairs.

O Castro
The replica Galician settlement built below the Castle. If you want to see this style of living, go to O Cebriero, Galicia. This really wasn’t worth the climb.

Paella For Late Lunch
They didn’t cook it after 4pm, so it was also early dinner.

The Escalators
Well, we found these a little too late. As we walked down the stairs, the escalators took people to where we’d just slaved away walking to.

Night Time In Vigo
The Church steps and the local plazas host nightly gatherings of peaceful fun loving people, enjoying whatever entertainment is available, but mostly just enjoying each other

The Perfect Finish To A Tiring Day
The islands off the coast of Vigo are visible here, and are a definite reason for a return visit.