|"I'm king of the world!" he tends to say at moments like this. Some teenagers cringe.|
I'll try to describe the Galician coast without using the word "rugged," which of course I just did while pretending I'm above such an adjective. Ok, I can't. It's very rugged. At various times it reminded me of Point Reyes, California and Maine, but with old stone houses, horreos, and lots of small lots planted with what I think are grelos. I love the way every house seems to have a little garden and fruit trees, sometimes chickens, sometimes a couple of sheep. It's exactly the way I like a neighborhood to look, obviously.
|Owen, future outsider artist, does his best work in restaurant toothpicks.|
|We ate everything but a few pieces of the pulpo.|
We are, including our excellent hosts, a party of nine. In addition to the adults, there are two teenaged girls, one teenaged boy (cousin Matthew from Seattle), Owen, who is 11, and his cousin Javier, who is 10. You would think. . . well, what would you think?
All I know is that my husband and I are having a great time, and so are Owen and Javier. Owen and Javi enjoy air swordfights and long, loud conversations about video special effects and even louder made-up song cycles. You should have seen Matthew's face when he got out of the car after driving around coastal Galicia with them all day. Had Isabel been riding in that car, she would have jumped out the window.