Seize the Good Times
Boiro is a small town on the southwest coast of the province of A Coruña, facing the estuary of Arousa. There is really nothing to make it stand out. The old section of town is almost non-existant; in reality it has become a slightly sizeable town only in the last thirty or forty years, so most of it is new. It is serviced with a good number of shops and supermarkets, and is the reason I do our grocery shopping there.
It is, however, a hub for local nightlife within a radius of about forty kilometers. Or more. On Saturday nights it explodes with neon, blasts of music, adolescents, and young adults. Add to that the local festival that lasts five nights, and the hub becomes a full-blown mecca. The other evening our daughter went to Santiago to meet up with a friend she made this year at college who had come with her parents on vacation to Santiago. Because of scheduling problems, to spend some time with her, our daughter had to catch the last interurban bus down, at ten thirty. Later on she was going out to Boiro with friends.
She was probably one of only five or six passengers who weren't going directly to Boiro. A lot of people got on at Santiago just to go down to Boiro. And at every few stops the bus gathered more people. It got to be so that every seat was filled (probably just over sixty), and the aisle got filled, and everyone was happy with pre-consumed alcohol (they would add to it in Boiro). My daughter even sent us an audio message of a group singing "Happy Birthday" to someone. At the bus station in Padron about twenty young people tried to get on. However, the bus driver, seeing a possible lawsuit and jail time in his future if something went wrong, only let two new passengers aboard. The rest were left behind in swirling exhaust fumes, talking about finding taxis.
To get out at her stop, my daughter had to climb over people, trying not to step on any limb. Then she went home to change, and I had to drive her to Boiro, of course. There she disappeared into the hurley-burley surrounding the stage that thundered out music and colored strobe lights. She did find her friends, though it took her a while.
It's amazing, but the young will travel for hours if they find out a good festival is going on somewhere, or if a disco is popular enough, or if a good band is playing within a hundred kilometers. We did the same once. We would find someone with a car (generally me and one or two others) and go to the popular night spots and larger festivals. Boiro was always popular, but from Rianxo we would also travel to Noia, Santiago, Ordes, Sanxenxo, Portonovo, Negreira, A Estrada, Cambados, Caldas de Reis, and Muros. Some of our group even went down to Vigo once or twice. It was something like, "have car, will travel one hundred kilometers for a good time." (Those who don't know the area can look up the places on Google Maps and see the distances from Rianxo.)
But at one time people walked to festivals kilometers away. When I was a child on vacation here, we would walk a half hour down to the parish center where our festival is held in August. My husband once walked back from a festival in Luou, halfway to Santiago from here, about twenty kilometers. I think it took him three hours. Our parents would walk to festivals all around here. Back then it wasn't feasible to travel to festivals very far away because there were few buses and fewer cars. People walked to festivals as far away as their feet could take them. But they went. It doesn't matter which generation it is, young adults will go out of their way to join a gathering of people intent on having a good time. Carpe diem is alive and well.
It is, however, a hub for local nightlife within a radius of about forty kilometers. Or more. On Saturday nights it explodes with neon, blasts of music, adolescents, and young adults. Add to that the local festival that lasts five nights, and the hub becomes a full-blown mecca. The other evening our daughter went to Santiago to meet up with a friend she made this year at college who had come with her parents on vacation to Santiago. Because of scheduling problems, to spend some time with her, our daughter had to catch the last interurban bus down, at ten thirty. Later on she was going out to Boiro with friends.
She was probably one of only five or six passengers who weren't going directly to Boiro. A lot of people got on at Santiago just to go down to Boiro. And at every few stops the bus gathered more people. It got to be so that every seat was filled (probably just over sixty), and the aisle got filled, and everyone was happy with pre-consumed alcohol (they would add to it in Boiro). My daughter even sent us an audio message of a group singing "Happy Birthday" to someone. At the bus station in Padron about twenty young people tried to get on. However, the bus driver, seeing a possible lawsuit and jail time in his future if something went wrong, only let two new passengers aboard. The rest were left behind in swirling exhaust fumes, talking about finding taxis.
To get out at her stop, my daughter had to climb over people, trying not to step on any limb. Then she went home to change, and I had to drive her to Boiro, of course. There she disappeared into the hurley-burley surrounding the stage that thundered out music and colored strobe lights. She did find her friends, though it took her a while.
It's amazing, but the young will travel for hours if they find out a good festival is going on somewhere, or if a disco is popular enough, or if a good band is playing within a hundred kilometers. We did the same once. We would find someone with a car (generally me and one or two others) and go to the popular night spots and larger festivals. Boiro was always popular, but from Rianxo we would also travel to Noia, Santiago, Ordes, Sanxenxo, Portonovo, Negreira, A Estrada, Cambados, Caldas de Reis, and Muros. Some of our group even went down to Vigo once or twice. It was something like, "have car, will travel one hundred kilometers for a good time." (Those who don't know the area can look up the places on Google Maps and see the distances from Rianxo.)
But at one time people walked to festivals kilometers away. When I was a child on vacation here, we would walk a half hour down to the parish center where our festival is held in August. My husband once walked back from a festival in Luou, halfway to Santiago from here, about twenty kilometers. I think it took him three hours. Our parents would walk to festivals all around here. Back then it wasn't feasible to travel to festivals very far away because there were few buses and fewer cars. People walked to festivals as far away as their feet could take them. But they went. It doesn't matter which generation it is, young adults will go out of their way to join a gathering of people intent on having a good time. Carpe diem is alive and well.
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