I woke up this morning and cranked the shade up.

Sun again, beautiful day. I can hear Michael down stairs making coffee. Today finds us on day six of our “vacation from our vacation”. That sounds funny but that’s exactly what it is. Time for Mike to slip from behind the wheel, put Betty (the GPS) in the glove compartment, scrub the bugs off the windshield, do some laundry, write a few words and go to the beach.

Baleal is a surf Mecca around 1 hour north of Lisbon. Unbeknownst to me Portugal is a famous surfing spot because it is the western most spot on continental Europe. You won’t see Baleal in a lot of guide books unless you’re interested in Supertubos beach in near by Peniche (which you may find in the guide book). The attraction is obviously the swells and different breaks, and the weather which is sunny. Beleal is known for challenging but consistent long waves, surf camps and surfers galore. Very entertaining, did I bring out the wet suit?

No, not today, so far I’m entertained by walking the long stretches of beach and watching others struggle into their wet suits and fall ass- over- tea kettle into the surf. The beaches are home to quite a few snack stands, restaurants,

beach bars, and lots of nooks and crannies to roll out your blanket and soak up the sun. I have noticed most of the sunbathers construct a little wind break, (it does get windy here) but I had to laugh, those things would take off like a sail and poke your eye out on our beach in Mexico. Anyway to say the least we are enjoying our vacation from our vacation here in Baleal.

What is the Sound of Lace?

Is it the voices of Portuguese women laughing and talking, echoing in a stone hall? Is it the sound of a pin being stuck into a straw cushion? Is it the sound of a million knots  pulled tight? Is it the clicking of the bobbins patiently feeding the masterpiece?

Yes, it’s the clicking of the bobbins.

These are the memories I took from the Bobbin Lace Museum in Vila do Condi, Portugal. I knew before I set foot in the door my Aunt Jean would have loved this place. Aunt Jean was first a weaver and second an explorer into all the fields of all fiber art. She was a creator of projects, all threads, yarn, fabric, string and accompanying  tools found their way into her life and as a result into a little bit on mine. (I ended up with some of her bobbins.) The last time I saw Aunt Jean in 2006 she was teaching my son and I a simple bobbin weave thru a wood spool. We made a really really long scarf. It was a bit like lace making.

I thought of my aunt as I strolled thru the museum.  The history of lace making in Portugal comes naturally; from the sea. The women mended the fish nets.  Obviously they got a little sick of that and kicked it up a notch. A really big notch. Today you see Portuguese lace making in many villages and towns. But the town of
Vila do Conde and this museum  hold the Guinness Book of world records  with the largest bobbin lace piece ever made. They had a grand

festival and received the coveted plaque, the giant (and I mean giant) piece of lace adorns the entry way (left side, ceiling, and right side) to the hall where the ladies sit clicking their bobbins. (Mike was afraid to go in there).

Mike and I were contemplating tapas in a place called the Matadoriora which I tried to translate and only came up with matrimony, or slaughterhouse, I was hoping it wasn’t the latter. We were slightly stunned after a day of hiking around Santiago de Compostela. The tender of the tapas asked “Have you traveled in by foot as Pilgrims?” Mike responded, “Yes, indeed we have… in an Avis rental car” The guy almost fell over laughing.

Santiago de Compostela is the final stop on the epic Camino de Santiago pilgrimage trail. It begins in San Sebastian and ends 500 miles later here in Santiago de Compostela. The trail has strained and comforted millions over the years, today more than 250,000 make the journey each year.

The cathedral is the heart of the city and it is believed that Santiago Apostol (St James the Apostle) is buried here. The word Compostela comes from the Latin word Campus Stella (constellation) and the story attached explains a religious hermit; Pelayo being guided by the stars to rediscover the tomb in AD 820. Mike and I spent a long time in the cathedral. It’s actually the 4th church to stand on this spot. The usual, mine’s bigger than yours and a lot of repair and reconstruction brings it  to where it is today. We were again surprised with the generosity and allowance of freedom to explore the cathedral.

Up and behind the alter there is a small staircase that leads to a stature of Santiago who has watched over the cathedral since 1211, people hug and kiss it. After coming down the stairs you are allowed to go under the alter to the Cripta Apostolic where Santiago’s remains lie inside a silver casket. I have to tell you, that was pretty amazing. A special pilgrim’s mass is celebrated daily, we circled the interior several time. It was an exciting and peaceful visit.

The next day we hiked all over the city.

The more than hospitable fellows at Hotel Costa Villa where we procured a delightful room, were amazingly patient with us, drawing maps, and suggesting various routes to explore.

I think we did them all, including a visit to the local market where it seems “everyone” shops for everything. The fish lanes are always my favorite and I can’t resist taking pictures of what offerings the sea has made. We also bought a boob cheese.

The boob cheese has a long and complicated story. BUT it has something to do with a bishop being in the cathedral and seeing a statue of a woman who had very nice breasts, too nice apparently because he had them shaved down to a “decent” size.

This enraged the people of Santiago de Compostela and they began making their cheese in the form of a boob. The cheese is delicious, there is a soft version and a smoky version. We have some in the frig at this very moment.

On that note I end my memories of Santiago de Campostela an amazing city with an amazing aura.