Sometimes on a road trip, it’s the unplanned stops that prove the most remarkable destinations.
Whether they provide an additional excitement, a happy timing to coincide with an enjoyable event or simply show themselves to be a welcoming corner that entices a longer stay, it’s the surprises that keeps the travellers in us travelling.
We left Galicia after an enjoyable two weeks pottering along its Rias and northern coast. Our intention was to stay longer at Praia da Catedrais, huge coastal rock formations that span a wide, sandy beach in Gothic style arches.
However, what we found was an overwhelming number of coach tours disgorging hundreds of selfie-stick wielding and bad-tempered tourists, together with a heavy thunderstorm sent us on our way.
Tapia de Casariego is a pretty fishing village nestled in rocky coves, with a walled harbour, lighthouse and small marina. We clambered down to it from the campervan parking at the very top of the town, initially skirting the first of three sheltered and sandy coves busy with the after-work crowd setting up family games with children or swimming in the clear blue water.
The coastal path twisted past centuries old fisherman’s houses and little plots of land being intensely gardened as allotments. Tomatoes, sunflowers, courgettes, salad leaves, onions and pots of herbs were crammed growing, in every available sunny corner. An unlikely slope of grassed lawn was being busily mowed by a small roving mower.
The small rocky headland sported a saltwater pool carved into the rocks and previously a shellfish growing site. The charred remains of several bonfires told of the recent festivities for the ‘Noche de San Juan’. The village clearly had a party crowd! Squeezing through a narrow passageway formed of the harbourside fishing houses and the coastal rocks we heard a loud siren sound and were immediately run into by a shrieking mass of children and teenagers.
Confused and quickly separated, I headed to the harbour wall and ducked past what could only be described as a chunky chap sporting a large papier-mâché head of a pirate and whirling a rubber ball on a leash that he was aiming at the backsides of every hapless passer-by. I don’t know who was more surprised, he or me, but his momentary lapse of concentration spared me a stinging bruise and I scooted to safety behind a makeshift stage set up with a DJ and local TV crew filming the fun.
Reunited a chaotic few minutes later, we joined parents and grandparents at one of the many harbour bars and watched for an hour, the various ‘funny big heads’ attempt to terrorise the children. The masks were huge and unwieldy causing each of their wearers to put their hand in the mouth to anchor the head on. Together with the wild wheeling of the leashes and mad dancing movements it made for a slightly deranged sight, but one of high spirits and enjoyment.
As well as the pirate, there was a witch-type character whose MO seemed to be to separate individual children and charge after them screaming up the steep harbour road, and a sort of waitress who crouched on the floor and spun her leash in a circle around before piling into the nearest group of teenagers.
It was the Fiesta de San Pedro and it transpired that the noisy arrival of the ‘funny big heads’ had been the start of the evening’s celebrations!
Eventually, the siren sounded and we all stood and clapped the unmasked weary and heavily-sweating but pleased young men. Having taken a turn of the harbour square as a lap of honour they piled into a taverna where a crate of bottled beers was being uncorked by cheering friends. It was now nine o’clock and time for us to turn back and cook a meal, as it was still too early for the restaurants to serve dinner.
Tables were reserved for 10pm and collectively the harbourside eateries refused to take any earlier orders or requests for tapas. The evening was only getting started as the DJ piped up and the partying was clearly set for the early hours. It was great fun to stumble upon and we scooted up and out of the harbour calling back Buen San Pedro Tapia de Casariego!
