It all began back in the Philippines before I ever set foot in Europe. My husband spent some time in front of his computer, checking out different Spanish regions. He was excited to show me the newest area he had found online. The photos were of the North: green, lush, dramatic, rugged, and charming. I remember the first time I saw them, and my husband said that it’s a lighter version of Norway. It stayed with me.
Even after we moved to Spain and explored some incredible places, including the sun-soaked southern coast, the laid-back southeastern towns, and the islands with their unique charm, the North remained elusive. Somehow, we never made it there. Life had its rhythm, and the pandemic slowed things down even further. But the dream of the North never faded. It remained in the background, quietly waiting for its moment.
Finally, after most restrictions were lifted, the opportunity came. It was time. We packed our bags and embarked on a long road trip.
Our first stop was Tordesillas in Valladolid province, where we stayed the night to break up the journey. It was a pleasant and peaceful stop, giving us time to recharge before the final leg of the trip.
The next day, we continued our drive, traveling another four hours north to the coastal town of Burela, located in the province of Lugo within the Galicia region. The moment we arrived, something shifted. There was a calmness in the air, a freshness that you don’t often find. Even the weather, stereotyped as too cold and rainy, felt just right. The breeze was cool but not biting, and the rain added a softness to the atmosphere rather than dampening our spirits. Coming from the intense heat and dust storms of southern Spain during the Calima days, this was a refreshing change.
Burela was more than a base; it became a place of transition and renewal. We rented an affordable and cozy flat for a month from a kind lady who welcomed us into her home and her network. She introduced me to a fantastic driving instructor, who was a great help as I prepared for my practical driving exams. I managed to pass it. Nature, the sea, and warm-hearted people surround the area. I was able to focus and feel supported in a way I hadn’t expected.
It’s still primarily a Galician-Spanish town, but it has a mix of different nationalities that adds to its character. The people were friendly and warm, nothing like the distant stereotype often associated with the North. There was an unspoken ease in the air, a genuine hospitality that made us feel instantly at home.
One of the most emotional parts of the trip for me was the food. Galicia is known for its rich gastronomy, and it didn’t disappoint. But what truly surprised me was how many of the dishes reminded me of my parents’ cooking back in the Philippines. The flavors, the ingredients, the way things were prepared—it was uncanny. At one point, I found myself with tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by the familiar taste of something I didn’t know I missed so deeply.
It made me wonder if the Spanish colonizers who brought their influence to the Philippine shores so many centuries ago came from this region. It wouldn’t surprise me.
During our stay, we explored the nearby towns, reaching the border of Asturias. Each place added a new layer to the experience: coastal walks, peaceful drives, fresh seafood, and scenic overlooks that made us pause and take a deep breath.
Though we planned to return home via the Portuguese border towns, an urgent matter redirected us through the province of Toledo instead. Eventually, we returned to the South, where we were still residing. But not for long.
Because the North had done something to us, it had quietly claimed a part of us, and eventually, we went back. This time, to settle for some years.
The lush landscapes, kind people, and sense of ease were too compelling to ignore. We felt rooted without feeling trapped. For now, it is home. However, like many things in our lives, it won’t last forever.
This year, we plan to begin another adventure: a return to the Philippines. And who knows where the road will take us after that? Maybe we’ll find ourselves in yet another unexpected corner of the world, or perhaps we’ll end up where I originally came from, completing a circle I didn’t know I had drawn.
One thing I know for sure: when I go back to Spain one day, the road to the North will still be there. Winding through forests, hugging the coast, lined with stone walls and hydrangeas. Perhaps it will be open to receive someone like me again, someone with a solitary soul, constantly analyzing, always planning, but yearning for spaces that don’t demand an explanation—places where my thoughts can echo without interruption because they’re already loud enough to hear.
In the North, I felt that quiet. I didn’t need to think harder. I just needed to be.
What an unforgettable trip, and what a memorable beginning.
Featured image and page photos © Eldar Einarson, Gracela Einarson
