LOCOMOTION
The diligence is still the national vehicle of Galicia. It is to be
met on the high roads which run between some of the chief towns,
drawn by six or nine or more mules, ponies, or horses; and no
more picturesque sight can be imagined than that of the primitive
conveyance in a country district lumbering on its peaceful way in the
hills or valleys, crowded with men and women in peasant garb, and
the top piled high with miscellaneous goods and baggage. The jingle
of the bells gives the first warning of the carriage's approach;
then there is the thud of the hoofs and the rumble of the wheels,
and the craning of heads from doors and windows. Travellers who have
spent days and nights in them, cramped and crowded in _berlina_ and
_interior_ or _coupé_, suffering many miseries and inconveniences,
have dwelt on the perils and drawbacks of the diligence, which has an
unfriendly habit of capsizing and killing or maiming its passengers,
and whose arrival at any given place is subject to the state of road
and weather and other circumstances.
The _berlina_ is a small compartment in front, running at right
angles to the wheels, and ranks as first class; the _interior_,
second class, is behind, the seats being arranged after the fashion
of a London bus; and the _coupé_, third class, is the top of the
vehicle in front of the baggage. In the good weather, which prevails
almost throughout the year in Galicia, the _coupé_ is by far the
pleasantest and cleanest of the three classes of accommodation;
and, perched high in front of the diligence, the visitor has an
uninterrupted view of the road, and may enjoy the scenery and look
upon objects which are ceaseless in their fascination. Journeying by
diligence, despite its drawbacks and discomforts, is one of the most
convenient ways of seeing Galicia, and if the traveller understands
Spanish there is every opportunity of learning the names of places
and buildings and getting explanations of the meaning of unfamiliar
customs. The driver is seldom at a loss for words or information, and
what he does not know can be supplied by the conductor or a friendly
passenger.
Diligences, big and little, have their special names, some of which
would be impressive if the vehicles were in keeping with them. Part
of the system of Galician driving is to make an uproar from the box.
[Illustration: A DILIGENCE ON THE HIGHWAY]
[Illustration: OXEN YOKED TO A DILIGENCE]
One Sunday morning I mounted a ramshackle contrivance called El
Elegante, and took a seat beside the driver, a brigand-looking
person who was unwashed and unshaved. Perched above me, under the
canvas hood, was a small Spanish boy, bare-footed, bare-legged and
bare-headed--almost, indeed, bare-bodied, for his only clothing was
a remnant of shirt and precarious trousers, consisting mostly of
patches. He planted his feet on my shoulders to steady himself. I
would have reproved him, but he had the air of a _caballero_, and
the road saved me the trouble of requesting that he should cast his
burden on the diligence. His feet were jerked off their perch and
we were all thrown tumultuously about. Three wild-looking little
ponies were harnessed to the coach, and with a frantic shouting and
stamping the driver started them on their journey, flicking his long
whip and cursing and blessing them by turns. Each animal, like the
coach, has a name, to which it seems to be entirely unresponsive. The
ponies were in no need whatever of a fillip, yet the driver lashed
out furiously, making a great pretence of flogging them, but doing
no real hurt, and spending most of his time in disentangling the
lash from the harness. Nor was there any occasion for him to break
into frenzied shouts and lean forward in a paroxysm of affected
energy; but he did both, and, judging from his looks at the end of
the journey, he was satisfied that the success of the drive was due
to his own exertions, and was not in any way attributable to the
quadrupeds.
The railway system of Galicia is imperfect. Only three lines
exist--the West of Galicia Railway, worked by English capital,
the system which operates from Corunna, and the track which runs
along the bank of the Miño, and covers some of the most wonderful
scenery in the country. In time other systems will be finished and
in course of operation; but progress marches slowly in Galicia, and
there is no hurry in the country. An old Spanish proverb says that
by the road of By-and-by you will arrive at the town of Never; and
there is the favourite promise of _mañana_, which means that certain
things will be accomplished in the fulness of time. Amongst them
is the completion of Galician railways. Fourteen years have been
spent on one railway between Betanzos and other centres. The track
is finished, but the system is not complete, and to-day, where a
train should take you swiftly and smoothly across country, you jolt
and jostle in a diligence, or, if you are fortunate, travel in a
motor-car.
Aged engines draw Galicia's rolling-stock; yet the carriages
themselves are very comfortable. The first-class compartments, by
which alone the Booth Steamship Company's tourists travel, are
excellently adapted to the country's needs. Many of them are built on
the English plan of small compartments, but others are in the form
of little saloons capable of seating about a dozen passengers. Seats
after the manner of an ordinary English compartment are at each end
of the saloon, and seats are on each side, leaving the centre free
for the baggage which Galicians cram into every railway carriage when
they get the chance.
These small saloons are about equal in size to two English
compartments, allowing for a broader gauge rail in Spain, but there
are many of the eight-seated compartments which are common to England
and the Continent. In these coaches the ordinary Continental system
is adopted of inserting small glass panes in the partitions, so that
travellers may look from one compartment to the other. The plan has
its objections in the estimation of those who seek privacy, but it
gives comfort to the nervous and unprotected passenger.
In England smoking-carriages are labelled; in Galicia the forbidding
notice is put on the vehicle where smoking is not allowed. As a
matter of fact, you may smoke anywhere and everywhere in Galicia,
unless great pressure or sweetness is brought to bear on some
offender against the law. Yet ladies travelling on railways may
reasonably hope to escape from suffering and annoyance, for each
Galician train has a first-class compartment exclusively reserved for
them. Frequently, even in trains which were well filled, I observed
that the compartment "_Reservado para Señoras_" was empty, the
womenfolk preferring to travel with the men and the tobacco smoke.
Starting a Galician train is a serious task. Before you are allowed
to enter the station your _bona fides_ as a traveller must be
established. The carriages are shunted to the platform perhaps half
an hour before the advertised time for leaving, then at a later stage
the locomotive is backed in and coupled, and in due season, with
no unseemly haste, a man in a blouse perambulates the platform and
chants the Spanish equivalent for "Gentlemen, please embark," which
the _caballeros_ do at their leisure. The engine takes breath, as it
were, and a trumpet tootles; then the driver blows the whistle, and
if you are leave-taking you jump frantically on board, only to learn
that five minutes pass before the train begins to move. A prolonged
blast from the locomotive is the preliminary for a leisurely start--I
even heard it suggested that the signal exhausted the boiler so much
that a delay was needed to raise more steam.
Galician trains travel slowly, and there are protracted waits at the
intermediate stations--sometimes long enough to allow the passenger
to view the surrounding scenery or stroll into the adjacent town or
village, certainly to give him a chance of drinking a cup of coffee
or glass of wine or a liqueur at the refreshment-room, if one exists.
Failing that establishment, which is primitive and unattractive from
the English standpoint, a drink of water may be obtained from an old
woman who walks about the platform with an earthenware vessel. At
Filgueira station I saw an aged dame, wearing men's boots, dispensing
water to passengers; near her, on a balcony, was an unwashed but
picturesque Spaniard smoking a cigarette; and two small girls came to
the carriages selling a sweet cake, made in the shape of a ring. I
bought two for a copper, and they proved excellent eating.
Young and old people of both sexes took their duties easily, and the
platelayers went about their business leisurely, stepping off the
single track long before the warning signal of the whistle sounded,
and gazing meditatively at the passing and departing train. There is
little fear of the Galician worker on the line sustaining injuries,
because he gets out of the way long before the train reaches
him--and the train would be hard pressed to catch up even a retiring
platelayer. The speed is very limited, and once when I was travelling
by motor on a road which ran parallel with a track the chauffeur
easily outdistanced the train, and shot triumphantly across the
metals in front of the engine.
Motor-cars are not numerous in Galicia, but there are some very fine
examples in use; and despite adverse criticisms, many of the roads
in the north-west of Spain are excellent. The highways, to begin
with, are well made, but after heavy rains they become lumpy and are
neglected; but in the neighbourhood of the large towns they are well
cared for, and cars run smoothly and as fast as the driver cares to
go, for except in passing through towns and villages there is no
speed limit.
Public motor-cars, corresponding in size, power, and appearance to
the London motor-bus, run regularly between Santiago and Corunna.
The _berlina_ will seat eight persons, but not more than half a
dozen are booked as a rule. The accommodation is equal to that
of an English first-class compartment, the entrances being at the
sides, like a railway carriage. The rear and larger part of the
vehicle is given to second-class passengers, who enter at the end.
In front there is room for two or three people, and a passenger
may sit beside the driver and enjoy the air and scenery. The roof
of the conveyance is used for baggage, of which a great quantity
can be stowed. Each trunk or package carried on the roof--and care
is taken that the passenger shall not burden the interior with his
belongings--has pasted on it a yellow label bearing a written number.
These motor-buses usually cover the journey of forty miles between
Corunna and Santiago in three and a half hours. A slower service,
conducted by antique-looking steam vehicles, requires five or six
hours--about half the time occupied by the diligence, which you will
easily overtake on the highway.
Occasionally the motor-bus will break down and need slight repairs.
The passengers in that case may get out and stroll along the road,
as I did. Blackberries were plentiful in the hedges, and I gathered
and ate them, much to the astonishment of some fellow-travellers.
Spaniards will not eat the fruit, but several of them gathered
blackberries and insisted upon my acceptance. I consumed as many as
I cared to eat, and as for the rest, I left them, unobserved by the
donors, for the birds. One afternoon, near the frontier, I passed a
motor which had broken down, and to which a pair of oxen had been
yoked, to draw the crippled vehicle away.
Railway train, diligence, and motor vehicle are used by visitors
and residents in Galicia, but there are many districts, remote from
towns, where the mode of locomotion is by mule or donkey, with
occasional horse and pony. Everywhere the peasant woman may be seen
riding on a mule or ass; and sometimes a string of mules will come
along, each bearing a brightly clad, laughing woman of Galicia; or
in a remote bridle-path in the hills you have to step aside into a
field or hedge to make way for a handsome girl of the country who
is returning to her father's farm from the nearest village, sitting
contentedly on the mule which picks its way easily along the rough
ground, which may be, and often is, the stony bed of a little stream.
It is well to be prepared for minor shocks in travelling. Your train
may have left a station at night, and you are dozing in the dimly
lit compartment. Suddenly you are fully awake, and by the light of
the oil-lamp see a figure outlined--a man in corduroys standing
almost menacingly over you. He is not a brigand nor a hold-up; he is
merely the inspector wishing to see your ticket. He has clambered
to the door by way of the footboard, and has opened it and entered
unseen. When he has done his task he leaves by the same way, and
proceeds to startle some other unsuspecting and unready traveller.
At other times a man in semi-uniform, with a cap bearing a small
metal locomotive as a badge of office, will fall upon you for the
same purpose, and then depart. At wayside stations you will see him
leaning from the door of a first-class compartment, smoking a cigar
or cigarette, and preparing to resume his footboard tricks when the
train is again under way. But though the descent is as unexpected
as the same performances in American trains, yet there is an entire
absence of that aggressive, domineering attitude which in some of
the United States railway officials is so offensive. The Galician
ticket-examiner doubtless believes that, being a _caballero_, he is
quite as good as you are, just as the American official does--except
when he wishes you to know that he is better--but he has a gentler
way of showing it than his compeer on the other side of the Atlantic.
In departing from a railway station, too, at night, you may be
startled by the sudden opening of the door of the hotel bus, and
the bursting in upon you of a man with a lantern. He is merely an
_octroi_ official, and his purpose is to see that you have not
hidden upon or about you such dutiable goods as fowls and other
eatables. The _octroi_ man may be seen in all parts of Galicia, his
headquarters usually being some strange little abode on the roadside,
roughly built of stones.
Probably no men in Galicia feel more acutely the slowness and
inconvenience of the locomotion of the country than the commercial
travellers, most of whose time is spent in getting from place
to place, and not in the actual transaction of business. That
remark applies, of course, to the commercials of England and the
enterprising "drummers" of America; but the business representative
in Galicia has to endure many hardships to which his foreign brethren
are strangers.
Late one night I entered an hotel in the company of some travellers,
and watched them as they took their final meal. They were preparing
to make a night of it, and on asking the reason for the dissipation
I was told that one of the commercials had to leave by a train which
started at 2.45 A.M., that he had resolved to sit up for it, and that
his comrades, in a spirit of compassion and conviviality, had agreed
to keep him company until he left the hotel. One or two of them had
to start at six o'clock--and these were quite usual hours for men on
the road.
Time after time I met the same commercials in trains, diligences,
motor-buses, and hotels, and on each occasion noticed that they
had long ago acquired the art of making themselves comfortable in
adverse circumstances, and had cultivated a fine disregard of the
feelings of others. There is something in locomotion in North-West
Spain which seems to bring out the worst qualities in travellers,
and I found nothing more disagreeable and exasperating than to be
wedged into a sort of diligence for conveyance to and from stations.
In the darkness of an early morning I was packed in the corner of
an aged conveyance and jostled over the lumpy road without so much
as a chance of escape, for the very doorway and outside platform
were crammed with fellow-creatures, and the interior was packed with
people who were mostly corpulent and unattractive. Once or twice it
seemed as if the vehicle would capsize, and it was a disquieting
spectacle to see a wall of feminine flesh bending forward as if with
the sinister purpose of extinguishing me. In the gloom of one corner
was a stout man, wearing a linen uniform and smoking. I assumed that
he was a workman, perhaps a bill-poster, until, later, he was seated
opposite to me in a first-class compartment, and I discovered that he
was an officer.
It may be that you have your cycle with you, in which case you may
pedal in peace, but unless you know the region well you must keep an
ever-watchful eye ahead, for many of the roads zigzag dangerously
along the mountain sides, and an uncontrolled machine would bring
about a swift disaster. Brakes both good and strong, and at least two
of them, are necessary for the cyclist's safety and his peace of mind
in Galicia. That precaution would apply especially to the ordinary
visitor, man or woman. There are those in the cycling world who, even
in risky and unknown neighbourhoods, neglect precautions and scoff at
danger. In many parts of Galicia the scoffing may be followed by a
catastrophe the victim of which would scoff no more.
I saw only two or three cycles in Galicia, and one of these was a
freak made of wood. The wheels were solid discs, after the fashion
of the wheels of a bullock-cart, and the whole of the frame and
fittings seemed to be of the same material, unpainted, as if the
masterpiece had been just finished and was undergoing its trials. The
work was excellently done, and was a high tribute to the patience
and ingenuity of the producer, who had clearly taken as his model an
ordinary safety. The machine was being ridden by a peasant lad in a
country village. When I first saw him he was ahead, coasting slowly
down the steep road; but he observed the motor-car approach, and by
the time I passed him he had dismounted and dragged his cherished
possession up the hedge side out of harm's way. As to cycling
generally in Galicia, it is quite feasible, for many of the roads are
suitable, but in most places the steep, rough thoroughfares make the
comfortable use of one's machine impracticable.
[Illustration: THE HILLS OF MONDARIZ]
[Illustration: MONDARIZ]