Today we have decided to inject some culture into our lives, so best feet forward it’s off to the Palacio ‘La Quinta de Selgas’ which was a stone’s throw from camp. The palace was conceived and built in the 18th century by the Selgas family, predominantly by one of the brothers named Fortunata Selgas.
Looking like an homage to both the French and Spanish art it contains both original works but also a number of reproductions. The formal French garden at the frontage of the palace mimics that of the Palace at Versailles but on a less grand scale. Whilst the English garden which is at the rear of the palace, definitely has a hint of the ‘Capability Brown’ about it.
We’ve both got neck ache from looking at the many ceiling frescoes which were quite stunning. They have a separate building which houses some very old and intricate tapestries but we’re not really that keen on needlework so we glanced over these pretty swiftly and made our exit.
An ornate mirror in one of the palace boudoirs carries a bullet hole from the Spanish civil war and luckily was the only casualty of that conflict in the house.
There appear to be more staff here on duty than visitors today and we have an awkward feeling of being watched all the time. Strangely enough you are FORBIDDEN to take any photo’s inside or out and you’re not even allowed to carry your phone with you… talk about being strict and secretive.
However, himself is a ‘sneaky Pete’ and surreptitiously took some shots from the outside perimeter but we were just waiting for someone to leap from a bush and cuff him!!
Okey dokey, small crisis in the cash department, we’ve got none… EEEK. We now are in danger of having to clean the toilet block here for a month. The reason we have got ourselves in a pickle is because the campsite we are using only takes cash and the Palace has just wiped us out as they also only deal in hard currency… there’s just no trust these days is there.
Right, we now have to walk 2kms down to Cudillero on the hunt for a cashpoint. The walking route, as recommended by the campsite saw us walking sideways like a couple of crabs as the descent was practically vertical and uneven. So, as herself falls over at the drop of a hat (even when sober!) and has a penchant for breaking bones it was a slow and arduous walk down.
Made it… only to be robbed by the thieving Santander bank who charged us €5 for the privilege of using it’s shiny, money machine.. Arse!
Long story short, Cudillero village is very touristy with an abundance of restaurants all baying for your hard earned euro… maybe tomorrow guys. Long walk uphill back to the gaff and every leg muscle seems to scream “sit the bejesus down and have a rest.”
Too tired to rustle up a cordon bleu meal or even to pop over to the camp restaurant, it’s out with a tin of Pedigree Chum (cassoulet bought en France) and some bread which was all washed down with a cheeky glass or 2 of ‘Château Rossado’ hic hic.