The Adjusted Normal, 35. Year of the Caravan.

This afternoon, the weather was fine, not too hot and not too cool, so we went for a drive down the coast past Vilagarcía.

We went down the coastal roads and streets to Vilaxoán, and Vilanova, past the popular beaches that dot the seaside. During the winter the very same drive is solitary, with clear views to the waves smashing on the beaches. In summer, what you see is a sea of parasols before noticing the water.

It's a good thing we hadn't wanted to go to the beach anywhere around there this afternoon, because we would have had to park a half hour's walk from the sands. Not that there was much room on the sands, either. It was just after high tide, and people were very obviously not following social distancing. There were a couple of small beaches with few people, but because they were smack in the middle of town, and without amenities of any kind, right in front of a cannery. 

Some were wearing masks, but the majority were not. No, there weren't any police officers doing the rounds, and I think that since the lockdown finished, not many have bothered to fine people for not wearing them. At least, not in these small towns. 

The most obvious tourists were those in caravans. This is the year of the house on wheels. Caravans sales and rentals are booming. People seem to prefer them to a hotel, not just because of the freedom, but also because they control who enters, and the disinfection. In fact, the lot of hotels along the coast had very few open windows. Most of the national tourists seem to have arrived with their hotel rooms on wheels. Aside from those, the majority of tourists we're seeing are those who have a vacation home around here. 

Quite a few nice homes along the coast are shuttered and forlorn in the winter months. Now, you can see blinds pulled up, doors opened, and cars parked in the driveway. Some buildings of flats that seem abandoned the rest of the year are also teeming with life now, such as folding chairs and bicycles resting on balconies, and a folding clothes line unfolded, beach towels drying in the sun. 

There were plenty of cars along the way, mostly coming off the Illa de Arousa, an island connected to the mainland by a long bridge, built over forty years ago. The Illa is famous for its beaches, and we could tell, as all the lanes leading down to the sea were occupied by cars. The fog drifting in was starting to push people out, though. One large parking lot was wall to wall caravans. If someone sneezed in one, someone in the next one would probably call the police to report a person who sneaked off to vacation while infected. That's how close together they were. On the other hand, after dark I bet some very juicy conversations can be overheard. Better entertainment than television.

As we drove, my husband and I talked about the possibility of some day either buying or renting a small caravan. It's a beautiful idea, dreaming of driving off after we've retired. wandering across Europe. Sigh. It would be absolutely beautiful if that dream could come true. But only without a pandemic. 

Life continues.