Finally! We committed ourselves to staying put while we’re taking our Portuguese language class, so the only jaunts we’ve taken have been squeezed in during holidays or else came up as an emergency and not so much of a good time. However, our classes this week were canceled for Carnival, which lined up perfectly with an exhibition Lisa has been eyeing hungrily. In 2017, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York curated “Irving Penn: Centennial” and has since sent it around the globe. It landed on the Iberian Peninsula in A Coruña in the far northwest of Spain. Well darn, if only cars could go that f-oh wait, they totally do! We made arrangements and, Tuesday morning, set off for a new part of Spain.
Quick note: apparently down in the weeds of Spanish internecine arguing there are debates about what the English name of this town even is. It says “A Coruña” on the maps, we’ll stick with that.
The trip was novel for us almost from the outset. First, we were guided to a different route than we were used to, presumably avoiding traffic. Cool, seeing new parts of the countryside! The next novelty was a little more embarrassing. Apparently, Portugal and Spain are in different time zones. Isn’t Portugal surrounded by Spain everywhere there isn’t water? Why yes it is! We don’t know why, probably because Portugal says “up” whenever Spain says “down”, but there ya go. So, since we were as innocent of this knowledge as Adam and Eve in the Garden, we watched out phones click over an hour and immediately throw our lunch reservations into disarray. Oops. Other than having to rearrange a few plans on the fly, though, it was actually a very pleasant ride up – nice scenery, good roads, the whole shebang.
The drive lasted 2.5 hours (or 3.5 if you count the time change, ahem) so we hit town at a little past 3pm. Fortunately, the restaurant our search engine redirected us to was open until 4 pm, so all was well. We found great parking that’s underground directly beneath a central plaza (a lot like Braga, actually) so we popped our heads up into fresh air with plenty of time to spare. In fact, we’ve learned that the parking is fan-freaking-tastic, just a few minutes from basically everywhere we want to go.
UN-fortunately, the search engine (you know, it’s the one beginning with G) had not been accurately updated for Carnival hours and the place we had been assured was green and open, was in fact closed up tight. We’re not usually fans of absolute blind darts thrown at restaurants, but needs must when our hunger drives. Happily, Meson La Rueda turned out to be a lovely, locals-only kinda place where, despite the fact that neither our command of English nor our plaintive requests of Portuguese did us any good, we ordered and consumed plates of langoustines (grilled shrimp), stuffed mussels, and a soft white cheese. All of this was accompanied by a chewy crusty bread and appropriate beverages (cola for himself, and the house white — an Albariño — for her).
Happily stuffed, we found our digs at Noro Plaza which, despite some peculiarities with their fancy new technologies has been an incredibly comfortable stay as of this writing. For about $105/ night, we scored a one-bedroom with a terrace that felt a lot more like a suite. A long hallway to a 2nd door was lined with plenty of rack space and room for suitcases to be unpacked. Two full baths. The sofa pulled into a bed, making this a perfect room for a family. On the terrace, a table for six would be perfect in warm weather for pre-dinner snacks, or breakfast, and there were a couple of chairs inviting us to sit in the dusk and read.
Smeg appliances — toaster, juicer, and electric kettle — added to the luxurious feeling of a well-considered kitchen area. Not much in the way of cookware, but a good (American-style) breakfast could be cooked. Noro Plaza was one of the best places we’ve stayed at in several years. (Easily in the top ten of all travels since 2007.)
A wander through the streets a bit after dark revealed masses of people in costumes — mostly cute, with a strong thread of cross-dressed men (usually fathers or family men) — out to celebrate Carnival. Nothing like the grand spectacle of Venice, but fun to see. Closing the doors to our terrace also shut out the noise from the nearby “rock” concert, and we were able to drift into a sound sleep.
Tomorrow is the real show, when we check out an international touring exhibition in a customized space (inside a converted silo complex) and then settle down to the tasting menu at really, really great restaurant.
