The atmosphere of religiosity is tangible: the fine old manor, lost among fields of maize and wooded glades, was built by a member of the Inquisition in 1672. Later it became the school that José attended as a boy; now he and his son Carlos have one of the friendliest and most authentic family-run hotels in this corner of Galicia. The house is dimly lit and labyrinthine, full of stuffed animals and antiques; the vast sitting room has a ‘lareira’ (inglenook) and chunky chestnut beams, the dining room is lovely, with a gallery; lighting is subdued and the bar is deliciously cosy. Some bedrooms are on the ground floor; a granite staircase leads to more above. Those on the first floor have classic Spanish beds and a certain decadent flair, some with hydromassage baths, but the simplest and sweetest, reached by a winding wooden stair, are in the attic. Tito’s wife is chef; eggs come from the hens, fresh fish from Malpica, and the locals like to dine here. Fine views from the daisy-filled lawn, a new tennis court and pool, bikes to borrow and all the rugged beauty of the north coast.