Tag: Costa da Morte

still coasting

The blog tag-line says (mostly) first person poetry, prose & opinion, but for the last few weeks, I seem to have written rather more about travelling in Spain; I hope the followers who have signed up during this period aren’t too disappointed when I get back on track.

No doubt I will return in the future to the many photos I have taken of the Costa da Morte and find inspiration there, but, at least for the moment, I’m expecting this to be the last of these travel blog posts.
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navigational skills

Although I am a frequent user of public transport, it’s been a long time since I travelled any distance by car. Recently, though, on a trip to Galicia’s Costa da Morte, I spent many hours as passenger – and navigator – in a rental car.

I like maps and have a reasonable sense of direction, so I don’t actually regret declining the GPS option, but it certainly wasn’t all plain sailing: much of the time was spent juggling a road map, which seemed to show nothing smaller than an A road, a trail map, which showed all the tourist routes – many of which turned out to be suitable only for walkers, and Google maps on a phone that was having trouble connecting to the local network.
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tripods, triffids and the Trinity

While travelling along Galicia’s Costa da Morte recently, I visited a number of lighthouses – of which, more in a later post, I hope. But they were not the only structures that stood tall along the coastline.

There were radio masts and towers dotted about, as well as a fair number of monumental crosses, which didn’t surprise me given Spain’s Catholic culture and the deadly fame of the coast.
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despite appearances to the contrary…

…the jovial chap in the photo below, who looks a bit like Santa Claus on his summer holidays, is in fact supposed to be Hércules en la nave de los argonautas – Hercules in (on?) the Argonauts’ ship.

I had forgotten that Hercules accompanied Jason and his merry men on the Argo, although I must have watched the 1963 film a score of times.
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coast to coast

I’ve been travelling along the rocky Galician coastline that has seen so many shipwrecks that it has earned the name of Costa da Morte – the Coast of Death.

While I was trying to capture the effects of the light on the brightly coloured boats in the harbour at Muxía, I noticed a flock of seagulls paying close attention to a chap who was busy at the water’s edge.
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