It has rained nearly all the time we have been in Santiago. I picked up a guide about What to do in the city when it is raining: a brief guide to arcades and other shelters, privileged places to watch the rain and give your umbrella a rest.'
It proudly claims that Santiago is the capital of rainfall,with 142 days of rain. Under this drizzle, a patina of moss embellishes the granite and provides a constant greenness to city parks.
The art of rain is reflected in shimmering patterns on the stone streets, which you can enjoy from the plentiful rounded arcades , your choice of Gothic, renaissance, baroque and neo-classical. The guide book assures me that the network of covered passageways enables me to walk a good distance safe from the rain , or to stop and watch it, smell it and listen to it without endangering my clothes. My preference is a warm cafe, with a cup of chocolate and warm crunch churros, a bit like tiny doughnuts.
However we did use the wet days to explore fascinating museums like Pligrimage Museum in Rua de San Miguel, see http://www.mdperegrinaciones.com/ and the Galician Ethnographic Museum, in Convento de San Domingos de Bonaval ,where we learnt heaps about traditional local culture, music, trades and religion. Excellent see http://www.museopobo.es/.
The Museum at the cathedral was full of visigoth coins and artifacts, as well as Roman, Moorish, Christian information and excavations. I love the layers of history that can be revealed by the turn of a spade. It is so exciting to imagine the past, from the perspective and comfort of the present!
By the time we had done museums and cafes for a few days, the sky lifted and , just as the book promised, we were rewarded by a luminous city bathed in warm clean sunshine.
Literature should have, like life itself, meteorology. Fog, wind, rain always tell us something.' so said Anxel Fole. Whoever he is, I agree.
We had rain and more rain too! It is a city that suits rain, that provides lovely warm cafes in which to find pilgrim friends, and leaves you with memories that surface at every flourish of an unbrella!
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