I asked a friend from Sarria about the Romanesque features in this region and he gave me an old pamphlet on the Camino de Santiago from the nineties titled: ‘EL ROMÁNICO DESDE SARRIA’ [THE ROMANESQUE OF SARRIA].
Last night we left Vilalba and spent the weekend at the Hotel Alfonso IX after having tried the famous Celtic pork stew.

This morning we all got up early, and my wife, who’s a much better driver than me and isn’t a fan of wine, got behind the wheel. We took the Portomarín road and after 2 km, turned south until reaching the Barbadelo church. Barbadelo is supreme, there’s a reason why it became a National Monument in the eighties. We carried on until we came across Mercado da Serra, where for three houses there are three bars. Perhaps this is what the Codex Calixtinus is referring to when it states Barbadelo fairs were attended by Compostela hoteliers, Jews, money changers and even prostitutes. In one of these taverns on the Camino – where Arantxa served us our second coffee of the day – they were slaughtering a pig. We continued south until reaching the church of Santo André de Paradela, who, it turns out, wasn’t from Paradela but from the Concello de Sarria.

We carried on a little further south along that provincial road and arrived at the lagoon and the Pazo do Tumbiadoiro, where, under its three shields, carved in the voussoirs of the gate, you can read ‘PARA POBRES ESTÉ SIEMPRE ABIERTA’ [ALWAYS STAY OPEN FOR THE POOR].
We returned to the road parallel to the Camino de Santiago and reached Belante, with its two sensational Romanesque portals. From there to Biville, where a local man let us in and we climbed with the children up a curious spiral stone staircase to the belfry. Later, in the municipality of Paradela, we went to the church in Vilaragunte, where the parish priest showed us the fantastic silver parish cross.

Then north, to Mirallos, or Ferreiros, or whatever it’s called, where next to the church, with its enormous portal with three archivolts – so similar to San Pedro de Portomarín!!! – and lion heads on both tie columns, we had a cup of broth served by Natalia from the Mesón O Manuel.
We went down to the river Loio and along a winding road, and then up to the capital of Paradela to see the outstanding stone cross of its Romanesque church. From there to the church of Suar, next to a house with a coat of arms. We took a detour in O Castro to San Facundo de Ribas de Miño, another National Monument, where Gothic, Romanesque and even Flemish style frescoes are equal in number. There is a beautiful hiking route here but we’ll leave that for another day.

We passed by Portomarín on the left, as we’ve already been there, and after 2 km, now in the Concello do Páramo, we turned north towards the Miño where we saw the remains of the ancient church of Santiago de Ribas de Miño. It was going to be engulfed by the reservoir, although in the end the water didn’t reach such a level. The priest was there placing some stones and told us about the very interesting seated Saint James that is now in the new church, and he also recommended we detour towards the mountain to see the three jewels of the Romanesque architecture in O Páramo, each with a Romanesque portal. I told my María that if we did the Grallás-Vileiriz-Friolfe triad, as the priest suggested, in exchange we’d have to have three more tapas in the O Páramo fair.
‘Fine,’ she said.
While my ‘chauffeuress’ was looking for Romanesque features, I kept my eye out for bars to try the ‘young wine’ from Paradela and O Páramo, which although not included in the Ribeira Sacra D.O. (Designation of Origin), are smooth country wines from this bank of the Father Miño. The bars in these villages are sometimes only noticeable because of the stack of bottle crates outside as they rarely have signs, and that’s how we came across the Cendoi bar. To accompany the wine, the landlady cut us some pieces of bacon empanada, as big as a cartwheel, the kind that when you stop eating you cry tears of grease because you can’t gobble down anymore, as my great-grandfather would say.
We went up the mountain by car and the iconic Grallás appeared before us, then Vileiriz and finally Friolfe – wonderful with its atrium from where you can see Lugo, with an interesting west portal with reliefs of the cross of Saint James, the stars of the Fonseca family and Jacobean symbols.
Near the O Páramo fairgrounds, just a little tripe with a coupage of Mencía red and local Garnacha wine, before heading towards the municipality of Láncara.
The apse of Neira de Cabaleiros, although half covered with ivy, is truly harmonious. These rural churches are not the ‘cathedrals’ to be found in the Ribeira Sacra or in Castilla, but my kids, who have never before seen these old stones, were amazed to discover all kinds of fierce animals, monsters and other mythological beings carved in the very hard granite of the capitals, tie columns and corbels of these churches.
‘Papa!!! Is that a winged lion? What is a mermaid doing on that shield? Which do you say is a griffin? What’s a griffin? Why are those lions eating each other on that capital? Isn’t it true that corbel is a bull and not a cow?’
We passed by the church of Bande where, we were told, there are no capitals on the portal because they are in the cloister of the Provincial Museum of Lugo; however, they can be seen on the very high triumphal arch.
A must-stop at the Vilaleo bar for a tapa of octopus cooked on a wood-burning stove.
We went down to the river Neira and begin to climb to San Xoán de Muro. This region is hilly, not like our Terra Chá, and eucalyptus trees have barely reached here. All these valleys of the Sarria region are covered with oaks, chestnut trees, elms, alders and a hundred other types of trees that Unamuno mentioned when he described these lands in his wanderings through Galicia. And one of the largest is the one in Láncara.
We ate well at the Taberna Airexe. Fresh chorizos with cachelo potatoes for us and the kids preferred fried chorizo with their potatoes. We saw the small sundial of what must have been the rectory and then the beautiful church with its strange man with a rope around his neck in the tympanum and its fine animal capitals of the main arch.

From there to the church of Oleiros, where there are also emblazoned houses. And back in the municipality of Sarria, we arrive at the Lousadela church, which my wife says is one of the best in these lands because of the large number of fine corbels, its portal but above all, the little studied capitals of the two arches of its presbytery: musicians, priests, lions, etc. While the children say that the corbels of Santo Estevo de Lousadela are some filthy Kamasutra types, María explains to them that what looks like an onanist may be a yogi.
Next to Sarria is the modest Romanesque chapel of Requeixo with an attached emblazoned house. From there to Corvelle, with its stone bull heads that are much better preserved than the ones in Muro.
And to finish off the day, after 97 kilometres, 20 Romanesque churches and barely a dozen bars, our last stop is the battered but authentic chequered apse of Vilar de Sarria, which is worth seeing both inside and out. Wow, is it worth it!!

Tomorrow we’ll go to see the other Romanesque churches, one made of slate, not granite, in Samos and the marble church in O Incio.
This route is like the symbol of infinity as indicated by the map we were given at the Hotel Alfonso IX. Slightly shorter than 200 kilometres but if you stop at all the bars in the Sarria region – and I love the local young wine, ‘viño novo’ – it’s better to give yourself two more days than the Xacobean Route has allowed for in this area, because alongside every church there’s almost always an old bar that hides the secrets of this gastronomy of deep Galicia.

And later relaxing on the terrace of the Hotel Alfonso IX, with a brandy from Portomarín, while my wonderful ‘chauffeuress’ talks about everything we’ve seen in these old granite ashlars, I comment about the other gastronomic route and everything that I talked about with my countrymen:
– ‘𝑴𝒂𝒓í𝒂, 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒑𝒊𝒆. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒔. 𝑨𝒔 𝑰 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒐, 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝑬𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒂í𝒏̃𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔. 𝑯𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒐𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺. 𝑷𝒆𝒅𝒓𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝑳𝒂́𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒑𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒊 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒆𝒅𝒓𝒐́𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆. 𝑯𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒊 𝒅𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒕.’
– ‘𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏, 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒍 … 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?’
Accommodation, dinners and buffet breakfasts for two for two weekend nights.