disappearing indigenous architecture…

Galicia is about as far away from the hot and dusty flamenco dancing stereotype of Spain as it is possible to be.

For a start its origins are Celtic, you will find lots of blue eyes and red hair and pale skin (my late granny Aurora for example) and gaitas (bagpipes) form the basis for all the folk music round these parts. It has an impenetrable coastline known as the “Costa de la Morte” the coast of death (historically and still to this day a smugglers paradise due to the difficulty of patrolling it).

It has mountains and a strange creeping fog that appears and disappears at will. It is green, verdant and lush…and very very wet. Winters are hard and summers can be very hot but also rainy, but it is so very beautiful. I am particularly in love with the old stone architecture of the rural houses, kind of disappearing am afraid, crumbling away or being completely covered by creeping weeds and brambles…or maybe even worse being over “restored” into a kitsch abonination of their original selves…

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