Do you recall the last time you touched down in a city, region or country, found yourself completely disoriented and had to spend the better part of your first day recalibrating and trying to make sense of the new surroundings? When I decided to finally block out a few days to visit Galicia, book a flight to Santiago de Compostela and chart a little tour around the region visiting friends, I thought that it would be a pleasant little summer break but not quite so challenging in terms of first and lasting perceptions. Allow me to illustrate.
1
The approach into Santiago de Compostela’s airport was low and gentle; the pilot did a few easy turns over the gently rounded hills, dense forests, wind turbines, herds of cattle and well-maintained farms. Where were we? Was this really a stretch of Spain hugging the Atlantic or were we over Bavaria? A few minutes later the wheels were down, we hit the damp runway, rolled up to the gate and disembarked. Inside, the terminal had the same signage and iconography of any other Spanish airport; for some reason this felt reassuring, as if to confirm that we hadn’t landed in a lush part of Austria or Slovenia.
2
My friend Sagra was on hand to meet us in Santiago. She grew up in the city and, after a coffee and orange juice, she spun us around town pointing out the key sites, guiding us into cosy little shops and explaining how the Galicians clearly had a hand in creating what we now know as mass tourism with the creation of the money-spinning pilgrimage. A quick pit-stop in the Sargadelos ceramics shop was good for stocking up on gifts made in the region, while a round of beers and wine in the modernist Café Bar El Muelle felt more São Paulo than what I’d expected from Santiago. So far, so surprising.
3
We said our goodbyes to Sagra, jumped in our car and headed toward Corrubedo to visit our friends Evelyn and David. En route a flurry of text messages had us rerouting our journey and Evelyn suggested a visit to the factory of Galician fashion brand D-due. As we’d already featured the company in Konfekt, I was somewhat familiar with their silhouettes and commitment to fabric innovation but the immaculate factory, quality of the collection and fact that more than 80 per cent of the D-due’s sales are in Japan were a revelation. It was also an introductory explanation as to why Galicia also gave birth to significantly bigger players, such as Inditex and Adolfo Domínguez, and why the region is one of those corners of Europe that still has the ability to make a bit of everything – cars, ships, good beer, excellent wine, furniture and leather bags for the likes of Loewe.
4
After our factory tour, we drove into the fog bank that had enveloped Corrubedo, changed into swimming trunks and went for a long walk down the beach. Along the way, David offered a full socioeconomic, geopolitical briefing on Galicia. As the sun attempted to poke through, David explained the ambitions and opportunities for this unique corner of Europe. Was he selling me on real estate or simply outlining his hopes for this determined, autonomous part of Spain? By the time we returned to the house, I had a better fix on what made the area tick and suddenly felt that another 48 hours weren’t going to be quite enough to fully get to grips with the other main cities, let alone the interior.
5
The following morning we made our way to A Coruña, which is home to Inditex and thousands of young Spaniards who want to work in the fashion industry, while also enjoying beach life. The city has a presence and sense of scale that came as a bit of a surprise – in the most positive way.
6
I had never heard of Sanxenxo but there it was on the highway signs and GPS. Our destination was Sagra’s beach house and, as the kilometres ticked down and the road twisted along the coast, I was reminded of being in Santa Barbara, leafier suburbs north of Auckland or parts of Sydney. Sagra has one of those set-ups (dogs, kids, relatives, rosé and a rambling house) that immediately puts you at ease. The reappearance of the sun had us down on the beach within minutes of unpacking.
7
Vigo. Wow! We’d done a story in Monocle quite recently but, to be frank, we didn’t do it justice. It’s frequently ranked as the Spanish city boasting the best quality of life but also the most rainy days. I was completely taken from the moment we parked beachside for lunch and then drove into the city to marvel at the brutalist apartments, 1950s office buildings and grand boulevards. It’s one of those places that has you gazing upward to the lush balconies and wondering what these families do for a living, what their weekends look like and how you might decorate a sprawling, 300 sq m apartment from the 1960s.
Don’t be surprised if you start seeing a bit more Galicia in our pages over the coming months.