When I told people I was visiting the northwest Spanish province Galicia, the response was basically the same: Galicians are in a different world than everybody else.

My friends and I had chosen Galicia on a whim – other plans had fallen through, and the northwest was one of the few areas we didn’t have planned for later.

What we did know about Galicia sounded charming and distinctive – the incessant rain provides green hills and flowering plants all year long, while a Celtic influence has formed legends about magic and witches lurking in the forests. It sounded like a nice contrast to the flamenco-infested, bull-crazed south; its very lack of tourism was part of its appeal.

However, we quickly learned that there isn’t a lot of tourism in Galicia because the people who live there don’t want any, and the only witches we encountered were unfriendly store owners and waitresses who didn’t want anything to do with us.

I nervously walked by several walls with graffiti saying “no tourists,” and I tried to keep my speaking in public to a minimum since both my English and non-fluent Spanish had the tendency to get more stares or glares than I’ve gotten anywhere in Spain.

Every city we went to had an underlying anti-tourist sentiment and a very internal attitude. But if I were a native of Galicia, I wouldn’t exactly be whipping out my bagpipes and singing a folk tune to welcome foreigners, either. Throughout Spain, Galicia is known for being a bit behind everybody else. At a family reunion, Galicia would be the weird cousin that nobody wants to understand or even tries to understand. The other parts of Spain look at Galicia as being extremely rural and underdeveloped.

Throughout the province, there’s a small group of separatist supporters. Some want to separate from Spain, some want to join Portugal, and some just want more Galician unity. Native Galicians may be pissed off that their heritage and background is being exploited to encourage tourists who really don’t appreciate them, but the region does have the potential to be a tourist mecca.

Santiago de Compostela and its cathedral are the last stop on a Christian pilgrimage. Also, there is a plethora of sandy white beaches that line the ocean shores and ruins dotting the countryside. It even has built-in tourist shows with traditional Galician folk music. And city and government officials are doing whatever they can to bring in the foreigners and their money.

In the city of La Coru¤a, my friend Emily and I were walking in the pouring rain from an oceanside castle to a famous lighthouse tower/tourist beacon. Along the way, we saw a cluster of prehistoric-looking rocks on a green hill overlooking the sea. We had no idea what they were, but we were dreaming of seeing some kind of Spanish ruins.

We went out of our way to see them because we were apparently being stupid, gullible tourists that day. When we got to them, we found out that our ancient ruins were actually a part of a modern sculpture garden that has been built between two of La Coru¤a’s biggest tourist traps. The stone sculptures were apparently there to give the city some type of extra heritage. I wanted to knock them over, but the new antique-looking rocks are heavy and relatively well-constructed. That experience left us feeling duped and used.

Galicia does have a few natural sights, though. In the middle of Galicia, there is the stone foundation of a Celtic village that is perched on a rocky hill next to the ocean. Just to get there is a two-hour bus ride from any major city, and then it’s about a 15-minute walk through a muddy rock-filled path.

Just one sign indicates that the amazing ruins lie beyond, and the little caf‚ at the top of the path isn’t even open. That one site is a more appropriate indication of the true Galicia, not postcards of a cathedral or tacky gift shops.

Other Spaniards are right when they say Galicia isn’t like the rest of Spain. It has an independence and an inward focus that can only be found in a few areas of Spain.

Although it was hard to be the outsider, for Galicia’s sake, I hope its citizens are successful in keeping the visitors and conformity to a minimum.

Amie Van Overmeer is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Rock Rapids.