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I gave a talk at Espazo BenComun in Allariz, a beautiful town in Ourense (1hr10 by train from La Coruña). “Beautiful” is not an exaggeration—Allariz has actually been given the title by international agencies for revitalization and sustainable management. The population of Allariz is 7,000 (times three in the summer when tourists and people with summer houses visit). That’s about the number of people in the queue at the bank back home on Monday mornings.

My hosts own independent bookstores such as Libraria Aira das Letras, which carries their self-produced line of steampunk-themed notebooks, bookmarks and puzzles.

The Vilanova bridge over the Arnoia river dates back to the Middle Ages. (I learned that medieval bridges have a hump in the middle.)

My guides took me on a hike in Santa Mariña de Aguas Santas and the Castro in Armea, site of an archaelogical dig that has turned up a Roman hill fort.

The unfinished church is supposed to have been built over the furnace where Mariña survived burning (like Daenerys Targaryen).

The remnants of the Roman hill fort.

Afterwards, an excellent lunch at Casa Pepiñas, including breaded shrimp on skewers.

The annual international garden competition is on from May to October. The theme is Cinema. This garden replicates the house in Jacques Tati’s Mon Oncle.

If La Coruña is King’s Landing, Allariz is a prettier Winterfell without White Walkers.

Our next Reading Group Discussion will be held on Saturday, 15 June 2019, 4-6pm at Tin-Aw Art Gallery, Ground floor Somerset Olympia (across the hall from Old Swiss Inn), Makati Avenue beside the Peninsula Manila. Everyone who’s read the Bulgakov is welcome.

L-R: PJ, Jessica, Deo, Roni, Allan, Von. Recorded on 9 Feb 2019.

Part 1

Part 2

We all knew it would not be a rousing ending. Since Season 5 the series ran out of book, and without George RR Martin’s world-building imagination, the show became fan-fiction. And not even as good as your fan-fiction. Yes, Game of Thrones descended into bad writing, character inconsistencies, sloppiness (Jaime’s hand growing back, etc) and a desperate race to the finish, but on balance it was a greatish show. For ten weeks a year it gave us something to talk about outside of our own lives (We especially needed that these last three years), and it turned non-readers into fantasy fans—no small feat. (Some years ago I made a vow to myself: GoT can NOT be the high point of my year or a substitute for a life.)

This last season reminds us of a fact we’d forgotten: The books are always better than the adaptation. So if you are dissatisfied with this last season, go to the books. Don’t hound GRRM for the next volumes, write them yourselves.

All I wanted in the finale was justice for Ghost.

Here’s the spoiler-laden full closure recap. If you’ve not seen the finale, stop right here.

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The Arambillet Building (1912) in Praza de Lugo (near FNAC and the Mercado). Designed by Antonio Lopez Hernandez and Julio Galan y Gonzalez Carvajal, Chief Architect for the province of La Coruña.

Casa Rey (1911) by Julio Galan, in the Crystal City on the Avenida Marina. These glassed-in balconies used to be the backs of the buildings. The glass also traps heat, very useful on cold winters. Eyebrows flew when an apartment in the building was recently sold for one million euro. I don’t know what it looks like inside, but if I had a million euro I sure would.

The RTVE office rising like a stately cake in the Mendez Nuñez Gardens near the port. There are patches of green all over the city, which has no more room to expand so older buildings are constantly renovated (but their facades are protected).

They couldn’t just leave a facade alone, they had to embellish embellish embellish. The bourgeoisie, flush with cash from their overseas ventures, wanted to show off.

The Wonenburger foundry opened in town and produced wrought-iron balconies for the early 20th century high-rises. La Coruna is surrounded by the sea so metal rusts quickly. The solution: layers of paint.

This is just the front door of Casa Tomas Da Torre (near Zara)

Easy to miss the imposing facade of 22 Calle Real in the middle of the shopping district unless you make it a habit to look up. It’s okay because the people are polite and will not bump into you.

11 San Nicolas reminds me of a hot guy who acts like he has no idea how hot he is, which makes him even hotter.

Thanks to my extremely knowledgeable guide, Margarita Parada, for pointing out the architectural beauties I would’ve missed by looking straight ahead.

My host Yolanda Castaño, founder and director of Residencia Literaria 1863, is a major Galician poet, translator, sometime TV presenter, and tireless promoter of Galician culture. She gave a talk at the University of Santiago de Compostela, a pleasant 45-minute drive from La Coruña. I tagged along.

Yolanda’s latest book, her twelfth, is a collaboration with 40 Galician comic book artists. They interpreted her poems in their own styles, some tackling the entire piece, some focusing on a line or two. The result is beautiful to look at, though I can’t read it with my kindergarten Spanish. In the first place it is in Galician, one of the official languages of Spain, which has much in common with Portuguese.

Afterwards we walked around the medieval town, which pilgrims have converged on since the 9th century when it was believed that the remains of St. James were buried here. The earliest pilgrims walked from France across the Pyrenees to the Cathedral, a journey which took months or years. The Camino de Santiago today has many routes of various degrees of difficulty. The scallop shells embedded in the stones are the symbol of the walk—the early pilgrims took them as souvenirs, and used them for eating and drinking.

It’s easy to imagine what the town must’ve looked like in the Middle Ages, with its narrow cobblestone streets, bars, and souvenir shops selling jewelry made of jet and silver. And excellent bookstores. During our tour we ran into half a dozen writers.

The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the end of the pilgrimage, is undergoing renovation.

Visitors line up to embrace the image of Saint James behind the altar, and ask him to grant their requests.

Cold, blustery day, brief rainshowers and the possibility of you and your umbrella getting Mary Poppins-ed.