My new friends and I spent the next while chatting, joking, and teaching each other the most-important phrases in English, Spanish, and Gallego (the language of Galicia.) It had gotten dark, and I was really enjoying myself, as they were all very friendly. I was also, it appeared, becoming quite drunk.
As the stars began to twinkle in the sky, Delfi got a twinkle in her eye and asked me, in English, “Do you want to go to an Infinity Party?”
Do you want to go to an Infinity Party?
I stumbled into the tiny village of Campobocerros a short while later, unsure if I’d hung my hopes on yet another town with no inhabitants. But I found a bar that was open, and asked inside if there were any rooms. “No,” they told me, “but go over there, allá, they should have rooms.”
I walked into what must’ve been the happening spot in town, if you could call it that.
Another Bustling Metropolis
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.
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