Cerdedo-Cotobade

The stone cross stands where three lanes meet, moss working its way into the carved folds of Christ's robe. Nobody's about, save a russet-coloured dog that lifts its head, decides you're not worth barking for, and flops back down. From this cross you can turn left towards the river, right into chestnut woods, or carry straight on to the next scattered hamlet. In Cerdedo-Cotobade, that counts as rush-hour.

Geography Lessons

Fifteen kilometres inland from Pontevedra's yacht-filled estuary, the municipality spills across 136 square kilometres of valley and ridge. Altitude ranges from 80 m beside the Río Lérez to 700 m on the Monte Castelo ridge. The difference matters: Atlantic weather hits the first set of hills, unloads its rain and leaves the coast basking while the interior drips. June can be 24 °C and hazy down in Pontevedra town; up here jumpers stay on until midday and the grass is still wet at teatime.

The road network follows water, not logic. The PO-11 twists north–south, linking a string of parishes whose names—Tenorio, Cerdedo, Cotobade—appear on brown signs long before any obvious settlement. Expect an average speed of 35 km/h even on the "main" drag. Sat-navs routinely shave off imaginary minutes; add a fifth to any estimate, more if rain is smearing the tarmac.

What You're Looking At

Forget postcard plazas. The building blocks are granite walls (many dating to the 1700s), hórreo granaries on mushroom-shaped stilts, and cruceiros every kilometre or so. The best-preserved ecclesiastical bits are the Romanesque apse of Santa María de Tenorio and the battlemented tower of San Miguel de Cerdedo—both open only when the local key-holder feels like it, so knock at the nearest house if doors are locked.

Water-powered mills appear wherever the Lérez or its tributaries drop more than a metre. Some have been patched up for show, others sag prettily under ivy. The most accessible pair sit five minutes downstream from the Ponte Taboada bridge: stone roofs intact, millstones still inside, but floors carpeted with autumn leaves and the occasional frog. Entry is free and unrestricted; watch your step, the granite gets slick after Galicia's inevitable drizzle.

Above the valleys, old sweet-chestnut plantations (soutos) turn honey-coloured in October. Locals still rake up the nuts, dry them over wood smoke and sell one-kilo sacks from front-door honesty tables—€3, coins left in a tobacco tin. If you arrive out of season, the same woods work for short circular hikes: shade in summer, earthy colour in autumn, and enough mist in winter to make any dog-walker look like a Victorian ghost.

Time It Right

Spring (mid-April to early June) brings long evenings, swollen streams and wild garlic along the riverbanks. Autumn (late September to early November) delivers colour, chestnuts and the year's clearest light. July and August are warm but rarely stifling; mid-afternoon temperatures hover around 26 °C, perfect for walking if you start early. Winter is quiet, often wet, yet atmospheric—just don't expect cafés to keep regular hours.

Monday is weekly closing day for most rural bars and the Ecogranja Atalaia, an organic smallholding that has become the area's main family draw. Plan around it or you'll find gates locked and the nearest coffee twenty minutes away.

Walking Without a Way-mark

No national park bureaucracy here. Paths are traditional corredoiras—narrow drove-roads flanked by dry-stone walls—used by farmers more than tourists. The tourist office (in Cotobade village) hands out a free A4 sketch showing three loops: 5 km, 9 km and 14 km, all starting beside the river play-area. Even the shortest passes two mills, an abandoned pazo manor and enough cowpats to remind you this is a working landscape.

Footwear matters. After rain the soil turns to sticky red clay that cakes trainers and can send walkers surfing on flat granite slabs. Proper boots also protect against brambles and the occasional feral gorse. Expect to open and close wire gates; if livestock is in the field, keep dogs on a lead and don't picnic beside the only drinking trough.

Where to Eat and Sleep

The only hotel actually inside the municipality is the two-star Hotel Chola on the edge of Cerdedo village. Rooms are plain but spotless, Wi-Fi decent, and double rates €55–€65 including garage parking. The adjacent bar serves a set menú del día for €12: soup or salad, Galician-style pollock, dessert and wine. Vegetarians can swap fish for pimientos de Padrón and chips—hardly imaginative, but nobody goes hungry.

Alternatively, rent a stone cottage. "A Cortiña" near San Miguel sleeps four, has a wood-burner and a small orchard; prices start at €90 per night with a two-night minimum. Bring slippers—granite floors are cold even in May—and stock up in Pontevedra's Carrefour before you drive up, because village shops shut by 20:30 and don't reopen on Sunday.

For a blow-out meal, drive ten minutes east to O Candil in the hamlet of Lérez. The €25 tasting menu might include scallops with Iberian bacon, beef cheek stewed in local red, and a slice of tarta de Santiago still warm from the oven. Booking is essential at weekends; phone signal permitting, they answer WhatsApp faster than calls.

Things That Catch People Out

• Transport: There is no railway. Monbus runs three daily services from Pontevedra bus station, but the last one back leaves at 19:00. Hire a car at Santiago or Porto airport; fill the tank before leaving the AP-9 because valley garages close early and all day Sunday.
• Language: Galician dominates. Basic Spanish is understood, yet menus and place-names switch between languages. "Filloa" equals crêpe, "grelos" are turnip tops, and "lacón" is salted pork shoulder—heftier than it sounds.
• Distances: The straight-line gap between Cerdedo and Cotobade villages is 6 km; the actual drive is 14 km and 25 minutes. Allow extra time if you plan to link honey farm, petroglyphs and monastery in one afternoon.
• Weather apps: Hyper-local showers aren't picked up. If the hillside opposite disappears into cloud, assume rain in ten minutes and head back to the car.

A Sensible Itinerary

Day 1: Land at Santiago mid-morning, collect car, lunch in Pontevedra's old town, then 35-minute drive to Cerdedo. Check in, stroll the 5-km Lérez loop before dinner at Hotel Chola.

Day 2: Morning visit to Ecogranja Atalaia—kids can feed goats and collect eggs; adults can buy raw-milk cheese. Continue east to the Roman bridge of Ponte Taboada for a picnic, then drive the PO-11 over the ridge to the Benedictine monastery of Aciveiro (20 min). If energy remains, take the 45-minute forest track from the monastery to the waterfall of Auga Caida. Back in time for tapas at O Candil.

Day 3: Market day in Pontevedra is Saturday. Stock up on bread, tomatoes and tetilla cheese for the journey home, or detour to Combarro's horreo-lined waterfront if coastal air is calling. From Cercedo to Santiago airport is 55 minutes on a quiet Sunday morning—no motorway toll queues, just mist lifting off the pine plantations.

The Honest Verdict

Cerdedo-Cotobade will not hand you Instagram moments on a plate. It offers instead the small satisfactions of rural Galicia: the smell of wood-smoke drifting from a farmhouse at dawn, the clack of a stone mill-wheel still turning, the quiet that descends when you switch off the engine and realise the loudest thing is a robin. Come prepared for mud, for bends in the road, for lunch hours that shrink in winter. If that sounds like effort, stay on the coast. If it sounds like conversation with a place rather than a checklist, you'll find the exchange worthwhile.