6/26/17
A Coruña to Comillas
Took the bus from the 7:55 bus from Sada, curbside
pickup in front of our house, and arrive A Coruña bus station around 8:40.
Marisol met us at departure time in Sada. Nice of her to do so and increased my
confidence regarding our marathon bus trip ahead. We bid her adieu and stored
our bags inside the bus. The bus meandered around A Coruña more than I recalled
from our trip earlier in the week. Seems like everybody exited bit finally we
made it to our destination.
We had to be at Platform #5 for the 8 hour bus trip
to Comillas. Reed insisted on finding a cup of coffee since we had some free
time. He headed off in the direction of El Corte Ingles department store and
brought a cup back for me. I just sipped a little, not sure what our bathroom
facilities would be on the trip and played it conservative on coffee
consumption. I didn’t ever notice a restroom on the bus but our driver stopped
several times, including a one hour layover at a larger station in Oviedo. Reed
noticed a vending machine with chorizo and fairly substantial food and the
Oviedo station had other decent food options as well.
Biggest upset of the day occurred at the Oviedo bus
station. Reed left his backpack on the bus and stepped off for what he thought
was a short bathroom break. The bus then took off. Reed had his iPad and a
substantial amount of cash in the backpack. He spent the next 60 minutes
wondering if the bus would return with his valuables or if the same bus would
return for the next leg of the trip. The bus did return and the backpack
remained in its position, iPad and cash safely tucked inside. Keeping track of
your stuff is a big travel challenge. I try to keep the invaluable valuables,
the essentials to my existence, on my body or in my backpack. The cellphone
felt like the highest priority item, up there with passport and credit cards
and cash. I kept the phone in my fanny pack, fashion be damned, and it served
as our navigator, communication device and connection to all events near and
far. Electronics have taken over just like Marshall McLuhan predicted. Marshall
told us money becomes information and the debit card transfers information in
the blink of an eye.
As we got closer to Comillas, the land became more
spectacular. I had no idea. Apparently some of the highest peaks in Europe lay
just 15 miles from the sea, in this part of Spain. The land extremely verdant,
made me feel good for Spain and its terrain—as if rugged mountains entitle
Spain to a position in the European continent, a kind of authenticity as a Euro
member. We arrived in San Vicente De La Barquera, an odd sounding name for the
town with the best proximity to Comillas. I had reached the province of Cantabria
for the very first time.
Comillas, discovered by Reed in the Rick Steves
literature on Spain, would be one of the top two places I never planned to see
in a lifetime but now have experienced. The other unexpected gift was Amboise,
France. Reed’s research into the North Atlantic coastline between A Coruña and
San Sebastian revealed a place called Comillas, known for El Capricho, an early
Gaudi architectural work, and beautiful seaside vistas. The town came through
on both points. Our 8 hour bus journey brought its rewards.
I picked a taxi business card labeled “Alejandro”
off the bulletin board at the San Vicente De La Barquera bus station. My
cellphone worked and I got a female voice. The pleasant surroundings, marina
with boats and ocean water and rolling hills, made for a pleasant wait. A
female driver pulled up… Alejandra? Not sure her name but she took us the 10
miles or so to Comillas, a town with appeal to Spanish tourists and a
prosperous, confident feel.
Alejandra expressed some doubts about Pasaje San
Jorge being a legitimate hotel. She was unfamiliar with the name. I worried for
a second, maybe Reed went too bohemian on his choice for housing or Rick Steves
somehow failed us. But no. There it was.. an official city street sign even…
And it stated clearly “Pasaje San Jorge” with an arrow pointing to our possibly
eccentric guest house, a whitewashed structure with red tile roofs, like every
other house, but positioned at an asymmetrical angle to the road. The building
felt like a triangle with its entrance at the apex of the triangle. As soon as
we entered I felt comfortable and immediately like the proprietor, a female
with the modest demeanor of many Spanish women we have encountered, but a
modesty with quiet strength just beneath the surface. Our accommodations were
cramped, even tighter quarters than Costa Vella Hotel in Santiago de Compostela,
but both establishments offered cleanliness and authentic hospitality. I would
recommend our two hotels, in Comillas and Santiago de Compostela, to any
visitor traversing the north of Spain.
We were tired. Eight hours on a bus, even for a
satisfying drive like that we took, beats the stamina out of you. Reed’s
anxious moment in the Oviedo bus station must have drained him for at least
that hour. The walk from Pasaje San Jorge to the beachside and over to Hotel
Josein, a restaurant with an open porch facing the sandy, conch-shaped beach
immediately refreshed us.
Our relief at having made it halfway from the
Galicia to the Basque country probably added to the sense of relaxation. The
ocean spread out before us, the town rose to our left and up behind us and the
sandy golden brown beach lay just below. The sun would set soon, though that is
not until 9:30-10:00 PM on these summer days in Spain.
Sitting on the patio, overlooking the conch-shaped
beach and got into a conversation with a couple from Toronto. He looked and
sounded Spanish, a gregarious guy with the unique vocal inflections of a
Spaniard with good command of the English language. His American wife seemed
more restrained but a very pleasant person. Reed enjoys the opportunities to
share our experiences with English speakers and get a true satisfaction from
his accounts of our forays into the Spanish places we have visited. Gives me a
chance to reflect from my fellow traveler’s POV (point-of-view). Fun to listen
to another person’s version of reality—and Reed has the talents of an Arkansas
storyteller and the fresh eyes of a first time visitor to Spain.
travel day-- 6/26/17
Labels— A
Coruña, Comillas, Galicia, Cantabria, Spain, El Capricho, Gaudí
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