Galicia is gorgeous, and somewhat deserted. The scenery was breathtaking, the towns nigh empty.
Galicia is a Postcard Incarnate
In an ancient, falling-down town made entirely of cobblestones, I met an old woman I could barely understand, who gave me water and oranges before beckoning me to come sit, take a load off for a moment to chat with her and her equally elderly husband in their cool, stone house inundated with flies.
This is Town.
Pretty much all of it.
keep on reading!
Today was a pretty fantastic, if arduous, walk: starting in the valley floor, then up, up, up along the side of a pretty big hill to the top, where windmills awaited far in the distance. Watching them slowly get closer was pretty amazing. The terrain totally changed: Welcome to Galicia!
If I recall correctly, at the top of this hill is where I met a man with binoculars, who offered me some water. I asked if he was looking at birds.
“No,” he replied, “cows.”
“You’re cow-watching…?” I asked, skeptical.
“Well, they are my cows. I’m seeing where they are and how they are doing,” he explained. He said he loved his life: spending the days in nature, watching over his free-range, happy cows. “A relaxing life,” he said.
It didn’t seem so bad at all.