In my capacity as amateur tourist guide to such of our friends and relations who choose to come and visit us, I set out today to take my friend Heidy to the Islas Cíes. She has been following this blog and has seen the extra photos on Facebook and already knew that she wanted to go to the islands before ever she arrived in Vigo.

Imagine our disappointment then when we joined the queue only to discover one of the company’s employees marching up and down telling people that “Todos los barcos para hoy están completos”. With no boat places available we had to rethink our plans. There we were with towels and swimsuits, sun cream and reading material. We were in beach mode and, what’s more, boat trip mode. But first we had to ascertain whether tickets would be available for tomorrow and could we buy them now. Yes, fine, so we stayed in the queue and purchased our tickets – committed now, all we need to do is get to the boat on time. Then we joined a much shorter queue and bought tickets for Moaña and some 15 minutes later were in a boat heading across the estuary.

It was cool and breezy on the boat but baking hot as we walked through the town, stopping for refreshments on the way to the beach at the Meira district of Moaña. Less spectacular than the beach at the Islas Cíes, it would have to do for today.

Just behind the far end of the beach is a small wooded area, perfect for cooling off after a hot walk and before heading down to the beach. The Spanish ability to organise tasteful picnics was again in evidence: there were the tablecloths once more!. In the trees were a number of noisy birds which looked and sounded for all the world like budgerigars or small parrokeets – anyone lost any pets lately?!

Cooled off, changed into our swimsuits, slathered with high factor sun cream we set off for the beach. The tide was far out and all along the tide line were people, mostly women, bent over raking the sand, collecting shellfish and putting them in buckets. We were relaxing; these people were hard at work and back-breaking work it looked too! At that stage of the day, there were definitely more workers than tourists on the beach.

We splashed out into the water, through extensive shallows until we came to water deep enough to swim in. The shallows were already warming. The deeper water was cool. Fish were everywhere. The tide was on the way in so we left the water after a while to move our belongings to “higher ground”, i.e. further up the beach. By now the shallows were bathtub wallowing warm. The cockle pickers (or whichever shellfish they were collecting) were leaving the beach, one with his bucket balanced perfectly on his head.

Three times we repeated that sequence of moves: wade out to sea, swim around in circles for a while like the dormouse in Alice in Wonderland, paddle back to shore and move our stuff. Out in the water and lower down the beach it was pleasantly and bearably hot, not burning down as it had on the road through town. On the last occasion of moving our belongings we confirmed that it was definitely hotter the higher up the beach you went. It was time to up-sticks and head for the trees, surprised to discover that it was almost five o’ clock.

So we washed the sand off at the shower at the start of the boardwalk, changed out of our swimsuits and packed up to leave. We agreed that our unplanned trip to Moaña had been a great success and we would cheerfully recommend Meira beach. Others clearly agreed with us for as we left people were arriving in droves. The beach which has been almost empty was now filling up. Had we started a trend?

We caught the six o’ clock boat back and stopped for a drink in the Café Maracaibo on the Plaza de Compostela. There I found a familiar sight. The “Torres de la Alhambra” sculptures which I had last seen in Santiago de Compostela just over a week ago had followed me to Vigo. I knew the place was irresistible – there’s the proof!