Down into Portugal this morning, to North West Iberia’s only true international airport, outside Oporto. This was to pick up an old friend, who’d sadly chosen the first really dull and wet day in weeks on which to arrive. Perhaps autumn has finally reached this part of Spain, after our Indian summer.

And then to Braga, to take another look at the cathedral there. This city may or may not have been - many centuries ago - the capital of northern Lusitania. Some say it was and others say it wasn’t. But a couple of things are indisputable. Firstly, it’s now in Portugal. And, secondly, several – if not most – of those who Ms Meakin regards as the stars of Galicia’s First Golden Age in the 4th century were associated with this city. Of course, at that time Galicia’s southern border lay further south than it does now. Hence their inclusion in her pantheon of Galician fame. Though, I think the Portuguese lay claim to some of them.

And then to the lovely town of Ponte de Lima, for a marvellous lunch of grilled trout and vinho verde. In a restaurant where there was no TV on the wall and no screaming kids running around. So you didn’t have to contribute to the cacophony by shouting your part of the lunchtime dialogue. I probably don’t need to mention that this town is also in Portugal.

Speaking of Ms Meakin . . . Readers Ferrolano and Ointe have kindly pointed out that one can download - from here – a PDF version of her book containing the photos I mentioned yesterday.