Back in July we saw an odd little train parked up at the station in Pontevedra. It only had a couple of carriages and was gaily painted, letting us know that it would follow the Route of the Camellia’s Gardens (their apostrophe not mine). It didn’t seem to be going anywhere however. 
Well, on Thursday when we went to the station in Vigo to catch the 7.30 train to Pontevedra, we were directed to platform 13 and there it was, the same funny little train. I couldn’t quite believe it was the one we were intended to catch so I checked with a station employee. Yes, that was our train. I heard someone else asking about it when we stopped in Redondela so it wasn’t just me who found it odd. It was after Redondela that the train seemed to diverge from the usual route. There seemed to be rather more tunnels than usual and I suppose it was fairly picturesque but I can’t say I saw a lot of camellias. It puffed and wheezed along the track and took rather longer than usual to make the journey. But it didn’t cost any more than usual and we weren’t in a tearing hurry.
Our return journey on Friday was on a normal train. Fewer tunnels! And faster!
So we left Pontevedra preparing for the Feira Franca which we weren’t stopping to participate in. The town was being “medievalised”. Artificial fortifications were being put up with cardboard cut-out soldiers standing on top of archways. For some reason there is a belief that the streets of medieval towns were draped with lengths of blue and purple cloth but I suppose this was just an alternative to bunting. Various shops were selling or hiring medieval costumes for those who wished to take part fully in the festivities. We’ve seen it before though and so we decided not to stay. Beggars were out in force in Plaza de Verduras where we stopped for a drink with out friend Colin before making our way to the station. Some of these were amazingly well dressed, one wearing Nike sports gear. Maybe begging pays well.
Certainly, as we walked to the station we crossed paths with that same beggar, still holding out his begging pot to us but in his other hand he had his bag of shopping from the Eroski supermarket. Clearly his morning’s takings had been enough to pay for lunch.
Back in Vigo we saw not one but two neatly dressed, respectable looking people stoop and pick up cigarette ends from the street. One of them even paused to light the one he had collected. Yet they looked like perfectly normal people. I confess to being shocked!
On the other hand, our supermarket beggar, usually vociferous in her demands for “una ayuda, por Diós” in the Mercadona doorway, seems to have disappeared. Maybe she has gone on holiday on the proceeds.
Oh, I know that here are some real cases of hardship around and I have every sympathy and do give money from time to time. But some of them do seem far too plump and prosperous to be asking for my money.
Today we took a windy walk up to the Castro Park, the first time I’ve been up there in a while. It’s beginning to look a little autumnal. We must take advantage of the remaining sunny days while we can.
On the way we went past the would-be exclusive school “O Castro” or as their gateway calls it “Escuela O’Castro”. Where did that apostrophe come from? Is it not named for the Castro after all? Is it perhaps run by an Irishman called O’Castro? I was always given to understand that “o” is the Gallego definite article and, therefore that the name of the school means “The Castle”. Maybe I am mistaken. Who knows?
I have just realised that I have gone on about two apostrophes in this post. It must be time for me to stop for today.
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