Out on the streets.

Once again I was woken by rain in the small hours of the morning. It’s happened quite often in the last week. The patio that opens off the living room in the bijou residence is covered over with a sort of semi-transparent plastic roof. The sound of rain on there is what woke me in the night. At other times of the day we hear pigeons landing on it and then clattering about. 

By the time I went out to run around the Castro Park the rain had almost stopped but the grey clouds were still around. From then on the day kept on improving: a little bit of sun when I went out to buy milk from the supermarket and full sunshine by the time we sallied forth in the late afternoon the take a look at the book fair down in the alameda. 

 

Today it seems as though everyone is out on the streets. Once again, the same as a few weeks ago, the local shops had set up stalls on the streets selling their usual ware as well as a little bit extra. Who does buy knitted and crocheted rabbits and dogs? I wonder! It was rather like having the primary school summer fête come out onto the streets of Vigo. 

At Puerta del Sol a stage had been set up. As we approached we could already hear the wail of the gaita so we had an idea of what was going on. A group of rather severe looking folk dancers were performing on stage, severe at first glance anyway because they were all dressed in black and white. Once they started to dance though they seemed to enjoy themselves. The Morris dancers who perform at home in Saddleworth are much more colourful. However, they are also more sexist as they are strictly Morris MEN while the Gallego dancers are clearly a mixed bunch. 

 

We were also treated to the sight of the local madman putting on a performance of his own in front of the stage. He seemed to be having a good time.

There was also a craft fair going on there, probably the same one I saw in Sanxenxo. Certainly the huge boots had made their way to Vigo. 

Down in the Alameda we found that the book fair didn’t open until six but we managed to occupy ourselves, getting a little exercise into the bargain. Eventually the stalls opened and we took a look. As we have found before, the Vigo book fair is really just all the book shops of the city setting up a stall to try to sell some more books. I had somehow imagined that there might be visiting publishers selling stuff but this was not the case. I wonder how much they pay to have a stall there and if they sell enough extra books to make it worth their while. Lots of people were wandering up and down and looking but I am not sure that many were buying. 

 

There were lots of books in Gallego, possibly more than in other years but I have no statistics to back that up. It was odd the see children’s books like Maurice Sendak’s “Where the Wild Things Are” in a Gallego version. 

Another stall displayed ancient religious tomes (but not the “Códice”) all beautifully illustrated, and probably equally ancient books about plants and herbal remedies. 

So we have visited the festival of local colour once again. Rather more sedate than the bull running which is going on in Pamplona where the Sanfermines are in full swing. I never did find out who San Fermín was and why bulls are run in his honour. 

Tomorrow we need to find a cafe with a TV set showing the Wimbledon final as we would like to see whether Murray can actually pull off a victory. It would be nice to keep the Wimbledon trophy at home for once.