Rainy Spain...Not So Rainy?

For those of you who have been to Galicia, the province that I live in here in Spain, or have ever heard me talk about it, will know that it's kind of like Seattle. It rains about 90% of the year. I know, I know...when you think of Spain you think of ...bulls, toreros, flamenco, gypsies, sangría, sun and fun...Olé!! You will, however, be sadly (or not so sadly) mistaken if you ever get the chance to visit. If you want sun...go to Seville.



Galicia is somewhat of a haven from Ireland. Rainy, green and Celtic.

So, not only is the weather different, the culture is too. Gallegos will have nothing to do with Catalanes or Madrileños or Andaluces. They even have their own language...Gallego...which is strikingly similar to Portuguese.


In Galicia, you can expect to see green rolling hills, small medival towns made of granite, brightly colored fishing boats, little old bow-legged ladies dressed in black pushing vegetable carts, wrinkled old men wearing berets gulping down red wine while playing cards in a café, as well as metropolitan cities, the latest fashion (Zara is Galician), and bohemian avant-gardes. But one thing that's constant in the rain. Whether you're a farmer or a businessman, every house has an umbrella stand at the front door and everyone buys Gortex shoes.



This time of year is usually cold and rainy already, but these last few weeks have been beautiful. Cool and sunny. No one knows what to think, but no one dares to mention it for fear they'll curse the lovely weather. Did I mention Gallegos are also very superstitious??

The effects of global warming are setting in here. Every year the winters get drier and the summers get hotter. The rain is characteristic of Galicia. It makes the old city in Santiago seem magical and mystical. It just isn't Galicia without the rain. However, I am enjoying the sun and not having to carry an umbrella around all the time. I think deep down inside most Gallegos are yearning for it to start raining again. There's just something about the gloominess of the rain that's attractive. I'll let you know when it starts to get dreary again.