I’d wanted to visit Galicia—and Spain in general—for a long, long time. Ever since I was captivated by the Copa 90 Derby Days Galician episode about seven years ago. It had been in the back of my mind, obviously things got in the way, but it was ever present.
Ever since watching that Documentary, I had always kept an eye out for Celta de Vigo, claiming them as my favourite team from Spain. But again, I never actually got my act together to say ‘right, I’m booking myself a trip and I’m going.’
Until May of this year.
I landed in Madrid on a hot Tuesday afternoon, tired and sweaty. I’m not going to write about Madrid as it wouldn’t be fair, I only saw the neighbourhood of Barajas—which was very pleasant by all accounts—but I couldn’t give an overall opinion on the city for not having explored more.
Early the next morning, I took off for Galicia via train. And although Spain’s national railway service RENFE gets a bad wrap, I thoroughly enjoyed my four hour journey.
Whether I was sitting in my seat or standing up in the on-board cafe, I was completely mesmerised by the beauty of the Spanish countryside, the vastness of it was enchanting.
And, the further north we got, the greener and lusher became the landscape.
We steamed through long, mountain tunnels at 170 km/h to then be greeted by miles and miles of dark green forest covering the rolling hills. It was almost as if some author had written up Galicia in a fairytale. It was beautiful.
Arriving in Vigo may have been the most contrasting experience on earth. From lush, tranquil pastures, to a bustling, noisy city. I had an interesting first impression.
As I was walking down from the train station (which is in a shopping centre), to the centre of the city, I heard shouting, loud bangs, and police sirens. I thought to myself ‘what on earth have I got myself into here?’.
The closer to the centre I got, the louder the commotion became. Until finally I was met by a large metal works protest marching down the street, it was decently peaceful and everything seemed to be under control. I watched for maybe two minutes and then set off to see O Sereo (A massive merman sculpture).
One big thing for me was trying as much food as possible. I had heard on good authority that there were three things I had to try in Vigo: the octopus, the Emapandillas, and the tortilla. Luckily for me one place served up two out of the three.
Bar Carballo is everything that represents Vigo in my eyes. It’s busy, it’s straightforward, and it’s full of hard-working locals. You go in, take a seat, and wait for the waitress to come up to you. You can order small portions by themselves or get pretty much anything in Bocadillo (sandwich) form. It’s all very cheap, it’s all very fresh, it’s all very good.
The food comes out to you pretty much instantly, and that might cause concern as to how good it might be, but honestly, with the first bite all of your doubts fly out the window.
Firstly, las empanadillas. Very different to what I was used to in Argentina, but equally as amazing. Meat filled pocket, fried empanadas that had a very nice lightness to them, they weren’t greasy or stodgy, they were just right.
After that, the Tortilla. You get a very generous slice of it, which is cooked to perfection. The one thing that I noticed was the real potato taste. I’ve had quite a few tortillas before but this one stood head and shoulders above the rest. It was genuinely really tasty.
Also, big shout out to the Bocadillo de calamares, whoever thought of putting calamari in a sandwich was a genius.
As I was only there for two days, I had to make the most of my time in Vigo. So I took off for the beach and more specifically Playa de Samil. After what can only be described as a grueling 1 hour 30 minute walk up, over, and down to the beach, I was greeted by one of the best beaches I’d seen, especially considering I was in a city.
It stretched for about a mile, had golden sand, and beautifully clear water. Maybe it’s because I went on a random Wednesday afternoon, but the beach was nearly empty. I dipped my feet in, bought a bocadillo from the local supermarket and enjoyed the views—whilst guarding my food from onlooking seagulls.
If you go to Vigo, there’s two things you can’t escape: Estrella Galicia and Celta Vigo.
Starting with the most popular Galician beer brand. If you walk into any bar in Vigo you’ll find one thing for certain: Estrella Galicia. The beer is more of a symbol than a brand, it’s beautifully galician, something that locals love, it’s a staple of Vigo and Galicia, and a beer that they should be proud of. For me personally, it’s up there with the best in the world.
The second point of pride in Vigo is their football team: Real Club Celta de Vigo. Anyone that knows me knows that I love football clubs who are—for the large part—fairly short on silverware, but for what they lack in the trophy cabinet, they make up for in hardcore, ever-present support. That’s why I took so kindly to Celta.
Walking through Vigo, you’d easily lose count of the amount of people you see rocking Celta Vigo club merchandise, whether it’s a top, hat, scarf, jacket, or pair of shorts, the people of Vigo represent their club with the utmost pride. As they should.
My second day in Vigo was again, full of walking. This time it was directed in an even more vertical manner, all the way up the hill to La Fortaleza de O Castro.
The 17th century fort gives visitors probably the best panoramic view of the city, it’s the perfect place to go and relax whilst staring towards the atlantic ocean. Obviously, like most good things, it can take a lot of effort just to reach, but the views are stunning on a clear day.
Unfortunately for me, my trip to Vigo was short, too short. There is so much more to discover and try in Galicia, and hopefully I’ll get the chance to return with more time. It’s a genuinely lovely place, and one that should be viewed as such by all.
Albert's Travel Companion 
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