The Come-Back, Day 30. Stretching my Legs.
I am late in writing today because I have been out and about. In part, because I wanted to ground myself for upcoming scenes I've been thinking about for my book. In another part because we are finally free to move around. Even though it's still only possible within the autonomous region.
Long ago, I heard the saying, "a book whose sale's forbidden all men rush to see, and prohibition turns one reader into three." That is so true. Tell me I can't leave my house, and I want to leave my house. Tell me I can't leave my province, and I want to leave my province. It doesn't matter if the reason for the prohibition is good, prohibition of something makes you want it. So, I've been aching to go out, to see where I'm going to place my characters, and to change my own vistas.
After leaving lunch ready for my husband, I went down to Pontevedra, first. It doesn't seem to have changed much. Some businesses are still closed, I don't know if forever or until the coming weeks. But it did seem like there were more For Sale and For Rent signs than the last time I visited.
I went down to Tui after eating a quick cold pasta salad. It was not yet three
when I arrived, and the first thing I noticed was that there was nowhere to park in the old town. In fact, the spot I had found back in January was no more. I had to drive just outside to an area with streets in grid that looked like a suburb of any other Spanish city. When the tourists start hitting, I suppose people will have to park in the surrounding villages and hike into town.
There were no people. Since it was just after lunch, most places were closed. No, not most. Just about every single place had the shutters down, even almost all the cafés. Normally, the cafés are open most of the day, even though there might be dead hours. But except for two, all the others were closed.
The most interesting thing was that, though we are in the month of June, I think there were more tourists back in January. I saw five people that looked like they were not from the area. Everyone else, even an older couple that were just walking around, seemed to be dwellers of the city. I'm sure most people that saw me walking around with my camera, peering up and down certain streets, also thought I was a tourist. Some might even have cursed inwardly, "Damned madrileña!"
The saddest part of the trip, to me, was the closed border. The main road that leads into Tui ends at the international bridge, where it crosses over the Miño river, and into Valença on the Portuguese side. There is a building where the Guardia Civil used to control people entering and leaving. Since borders were deleted, it was just another road, with a large blue sign with yellow stars surrounding the name of the country travellers were entering.
Now, there are concrete barriers set up at the entrance to the bridge, tape all over the place, preventing pedestrians from crossing, and even railings. There are a couple of cars from the Portuguese Garda Republicana at the station building, probably comparing notes with their Spanish counterparts. They crossed over at the highway bridge, which is the only one kept open. But only trucks carrying merchandise can cross it, or people who live in one country and work in the other. The virus has been even stricter than Franco.
As always, my mask was around my neck or on my wrist as I wandered around, easily avoiding people. I went a couple of times into buildings, such as the marketplace in Pontevedra, and a supermarket in Tui. While I was eating at the marketplace (the stall that served the pasta salad was one of only two food stalls open), my mask was down. But there was no problem. The only other person sitting at a table was on the other side of the hall. Down by the fishmongers, and the grocers, I wore it correctly. But each time I had to wear it, I finished my business as quickly as possible.
Not everyone was wearing a mask. Some had theirs down, like I did. Others simply didn't have one. But the government today has decreed that masks are here to stay until either a vaccine has been developed, or an effective treatment implemented. Research scientists, work fast!
Life continues.
Long ago, I heard the saying, "a book whose sale's forbidden all men rush to see, and prohibition turns one reader into three." That is so true. Tell me I can't leave my house, and I want to leave my house. Tell me I can't leave my province, and I want to leave my province. It doesn't matter if the reason for the prohibition is good, prohibition of something makes you want it. So, I've been aching to go out, to see where I'm going to place my characters, and to change my own vistas.
After leaving lunch ready for my husband, I went down to Pontevedra, first. It doesn't seem to have changed much. Some businesses are still closed, I don't know if forever or until the coming weeks. But it did seem like there were more For Sale and For Rent signs than the last time I visited.
I went down to Tui after eating a quick cold pasta salad. It was not yet three when I arrived, and the first thing I noticed was that there was nowhere to park in the old town. In fact, the spot I had found back in January was no more. I had to drive just outside to an area with streets in grid that looked like a suburb of any other Spanish city. When the tourists start hitting, I suppose people will have to park in the surrounding villages and hike into town.
There were no people. Since it was just after lunch, most places were closed. No, not most. Just about every single place had the shutters down, even almost all the cafés. Normally, the cafés are open most of the day, even though there might be dead hours. But except for two, all the others were closed.
The most interesting thing was that, though we are in the month of June, I think there were more tourists back in January. I saw five people that looked like they were not from the area. Everyone else, even an older couple that were just walking around, seemed to be dwellers of the city. I'm sure most people that saw me walking around with my camera, peering up and down certain streets, also thought I was a tourist. Some might even have cursed inwardly, "Damned madrileña!"
Now, there are concrete barriers set up at the entrance to the bridge, tape all over the place, preventing pedestrians from crossing, and even railings. There are a couple of cars from the Portuguese Garda Republicana at the station building, probably comparing notes with their Spanish counterparts. They crossed over at the highway bridge, which is the only one kept open. But only trucks carrying merchandise can cross it, or people who live in one country and work in the other. The virus has been even stricter than Franco.
As always, my mask was around my neck or on my wrist as I wandered around, easily avoiding people. I went a couple of times into buildings, such as the marketplace in Pontevedra, and a supermarket in Tui. While I was eating at the marketplace (the stall that served the pasta salad was one of only two food stalls open), my mask was down. But there was no problem. The only other person sitting at a table was on the other side of the hall. Down by the fishmongers, and the grocers, I wore it correctly. But each time I had to wear it, I finished my business as quickly as possible.
Not everyone was wearing a mask. Some had theirs down, like I did. Others simply didn't have one. But the government today has decreed that masks are here to stay until either a vaccine has been developed, or an effective treatment implemented. Research scientists, work fast!
Life continues.
Comments
Post a Comment