Sunday 05/06/2011 Baiona to Ría de Vigo

We had a great time in Baiona, which is a lovely place.

We went out for a meal last night and had pimientos de Padrón and other yummy tapas.

I was speaking to my mother on the phone while we were sitting outside the restaurant after finishing our meal when our conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching live music. I’m not sure I’ve ever asked someone to call back before on the basis that‘the bagpipes are too noisy’….

A group of dancers and musicians turned up in the little square we were sitting in, gave an impromptu Celtic folk performance, then walked off playing their instruments while we wondered what had just happened. I love it when we stumble upon a festival, but even better when they decide to come to us.

However, we decided that if we didn’t leave today we might get too comfortable and possibly never would, and as a result might run entirely out of cash, given the not extortionate but slightly more than welcome yacht club charges after quite a lot of unavoidable marina fees recently. So we headed to the Ria de Vigo, a few miles north, where we are now. Ria means ‘estuary’ in Spanish (you would describe the Carrick Roads as a ‘ria’ and a very fine example of one. One of the finest, I would say).

There are several of these multi-directional, anchorage laden, swell sheltered beauties between here and Finisterre, and several more after.

There’s some quite strong north wind forecast for the next couple of days, so we splashed our way into a bit of it (not too strong at this stage) until we got into the mouth of the Vigo estuary and turned right and downhill until we found a good sheltered anchorage.

We looked across the bay right at the end, which was called St Simon’s Bay, but it was gusty and a bit windsurfy in there (never a good omen for a tranquil and calm anchorage) so we turned back and headed back downstream until we found a nice looking spot a few bays on, where we are now.

When we arrived, being a sunny Sunday, the beach and the anchorage was fairly full. But by now it’s nearly sunset and there are only two other boats around and one of them is packing up and getting ready to go home.

The beach is empty, apart from one old lady sitting determinedly under her parasol until the very end, and the water is flat and the wind dying. And it’s free! Bliss.


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