Monday August 5th to Sunday August 11th Muros

 We left you with a promise to say more about Muros.

The resident population of ten thousand swells in summer.  Many restaurants and cafes along the sea-front, under the arches of the 14^th century hospital, and among the narrow stone alleys behind, flow out onto the pavements and town square.  This is still, however, a small fishing community  and in common with much of the coast from here northwards to Coruna, displays little wealth and some hardship. 

We explored the town on foot, but we also have bikes on board, and enjoyed three little excursions.

Our first outing took us south past Monte Louro to the lighthouse at Punta Quiexal.  At less than 250 metres, the hill isn’t high, but its flat slopes and twin peaks are distinctive and easily recognised, appearing, perhaps from a distance, like a couple of granite pyramids pushed into each other.  The southern tip of the peninsula, Punta Quiexal is flat and home to a lighthouse, which, in common with many along this coast, is built with a larger building, an earlier home to a lighthouse keeper.   

We imagined how exploring sailors from previous centuries would sketch and describe this unique feature, and how subsequent sailors would recognise Louro and Quiexal from their forebears’ descriptions.  However, with this coast notorious for mist and fog, we also understood the importance of the light positioned low and close to the water.

We met no ancient mariners, but chatted with a local wet-suited fisherman, who’d been in the water since 2am, and proudly displayed his catch of fish and an octopus. 

Our second cycle ride went north and east to Praia de Bornalle, stopping by Panaderia Rudolfo.

The hamlet, lagoon and beach at Bornalle were stunning.  This was a Horreo-lover’s paradise, with ancient stone granaries (yes, everything in Galicia is built from granite) of different shapes and sizes, mingled with fishing cottages.  

Being low tide, small fishing boats were beached on the banks of the winding narrow estuary that would later inflate to a tidal lagoon. 

We were almost alone on the 200m wide beach, with just one boat, sitting perfectly still at anchor in the bay and the shallow shore stretching a distance south into the protected Ria.  

The sun shone, we walked around the bay and tried one of Rudolfo’s Paucino de Aceites, somewhere between a large breadstick or a thin baguette, made with olive oil.  Surprisingly tasty, but as we discovered later, best eaten fresh.

Our third trip retraced steps south, past the bay of San Francisco, around the north of Monte Lauro and a little north along the Atlantic coast to the light at Punta Insua. 

On the west of the Lauro peninsula lies Laguna de Xados, and along the west-facing coast sit Praia de Lauro and Praia de Larina. 

Each beach is a kilometre long and almost empty, again underscoring the huge natural tourist potential of this area. 

The light stands north of both beaches, again with it’s own substantial building, which is now offered as an up-market hostelry.  The panoramic view along rugged coast to Finisterre, 10 miles to the north and to the south across the entrance to Ria de Muros to Cabo Corrubedo, was breathtaking. 

On a rocky headland between the two beaches rests restaurant Ancoradoiro, part of a summer chalet site, which offered it’s hungry visiting cyclists veal steaks and Santiago tart, an almond cake-like flan that we find irresistible. 

About a kilometre off the main road, north of  the restaurant, Monte Naraio offers a view over Monte Lauro, both large beaches, the light at Punta Insua and the Laguna de Xados.  A good payback for the hike to the top.

Perhaps the reader can understand how we fell in love with Muros.  A forecasted wind from the south, however, offered an opportunity to head north around Cote de Morte again.  Leaving Muros was a bittersweet moment.