And these re snaps of some of the characters I see in and around Pontevedra when I go in for my daily coffee:-
Hat Woman: I see regularly see this lady crossing the bridge I use when I go into town. She has a large head of unusually curly hair, which is always surmounted by one of her vast collection of hats. Using subterfuge, I will try to get them all....The green straw one. The blue one. The elegant floppy red one. The red visor, sadly only from the back as yet.
Little Dracula: This gentleman also walks across the bridge most days. He is tall, elegant and always immaculately dressed. He usually carries a cane and sometimes sports a large black cape, lined in red silk. To the locals, he is known as Draculín, or Little Dracula. I'm told that he also goes by the name of Wladimir Dragossán, though his real name is a more prosaic Rafael Pintos. The general belief is that he has filed some of his teeth to points and that he drinks blood - claims he is said to have made several times on national and local TV. I keep meaning to stop him and ask him. Meanwhile, here are side and back views of our friend, in one of his superb summer outfits. It will take a while to sneak a picture from the front.
The Taffeta Duchess: This lady of advanced years walks through town daily, festooned in layers of gauze and taffeta - rather like a bewildered extra from Alice In Wonderland. Many of her outfits are in this year's fashionable pink. I say 'taffeta' but I have no real idea what this is. But what she is dressed in looks to me like what I feel taffeta should be. Like Hat Woman, she has a matching array of headgear, mostly circular and be-ribboned. Plus a collection of Alice bands. In truth, she is an up-market bag lady. So much so that she has, I'm told, awarded herself a number of honorary titles such as the Duchesa de Burgo and the Marquesa de Riestra. [PS. The Oxford English Dictionary has justified my ignorance of taffeta, saying that it used to mean a thin silk but is now used, wrongly, for a wide variety of materials].
Mr. Topless: This gentleman is in his 60s, I guess, and has a good upper body physique. I know this - indeed, we all know this - because he is invariably shirtless, regardless of the prevailing weather conditions. He strides purposefully through the town in a pair of denim jeans, always with a plastic bag in his left hand. I assume this contains his shirt [against the possibility of a snow storm] and perhaps his packed lunch. Understandably, he is very brown. Though it is very possible that he has what is called, in the UK at least, a navvy tan - nut brown torso, ivory white legs. I must tackle him on this. Meanwhile, here is a photo I managed to get during this year's fiesta. As you can see, Mr. Topless has - in honour of the festivities - chosen to don his shirt and to abandon his plastic bag. A truer picture will have to wait. By the way, I bumped into Mr Topless during the August fiesta activities and was immediately struck by who he looks like - Popeye!
Mrs. & Master Thatcher?: Down in the old quarter, there is a grocery shop which fronts for a down-at-heel bar that provides a refuge for some of the less salubrious characters of Pontevedra. But it also serves a sweet, delicious and brain-numbing raisin wine, direct from barrels. My English neighbour suggests that the owner is really Mrs Thatcher earning her keep in forced retirement. She is trailed everywhere by her son [Mark?], who may be one prawn short of a paella. But not two, as my neighbour feels he is waiting for the day he can sell their prime-site property and get out of the dropouts-refuge and raisin wine business. Here they are.....Mrs. T and son.
Mrs Mutton: This is a lady who appears to have forgotten to cut her hair for 20 - or even 30 - years. Despite the fact that she must be in her fifties, it cascades down to her waist from a sort of flat beehive on her head. Someone should tell her that only famous flamenco singers are allowed to be this out of kilter with Father Time..
My Favourite Gypsy: This is a lady who sells pegs, begs and dispenses curses to those who, like me, don't oblige. I say a bit more about her on the Pontevedra section of this site. She is waiting for a taxi to take her home so the lack of my patronage is clearly not a problem.
Less animate characters - Pontevedra Statues: In the last couple of years, we have been blessed with a number of statues in the middle of the town's ever-increasing number of roundabouts ['circles' to my American readers]. The best that can be said of these is that they brighten my day whenever I drive past them. My own theory is that they have been done by somebody's relative. Or perhaps their six year old child. Here is a representative sample:- The Poio Clown - One side. And another. And yet another, highlighting the wonderful, squiggly pipe-work.. The Poio Angels - One side. Another side. And another.
I will post more of these but I wouldn't want to leave you with the impression that all statues in Pontevedra are as, well, modern as these. Here, for example, is a glorious memorial at the start of the Alameda in Plaza España. And here is a set of modern statues which always bring a smile to my face, for the right reasons in this case..
Granite Carvings: I live next to a school for granite carvers and every day I cross their car park, en route to the forest. In the last year or so, a number of carvings have been strategically placed around this area and I believe they merit wider appreciation than that of just me and Ryan. The centre-piece is a group of 4 large features which are, as they say here, emblematic of Galician family life. Each of these has 2 things in common - 1. they are truly superb, and 2. they are unfinished. Perhaps they always will be. But there is a stack of what look like remaining bits nearby, so who can say? Anyway, here they are:- 1. The horreo. 2. The washing area 3. The well. 4. The cart and [?] coffins. 5. The residual bits. Further up the car park, there is a family group which I have had to show in two pieces. Between the figures there are a number of indentations [bas-reliefs?] which resemble concave breasts and one alto-relief[?] which looks like the real thing. If you look at the second photo hard enough, you can probably make it out. Family - left hand side. And Family - right hand side Just across from this are two pillars with small figurines on them. Or, rather, there were. The unseasonal winds of last week blew one of them down and someone has made off with the figurine. Except for the feet. As you can see, these are still attached to the fallen pillar. Ozymandias?? The figure on the pillar that is still upright is garbed in barbed-wire. My elder daughter, who doesn't like it, feels the wind got the wrong pillar. Finally, here is what may be a very modern sculpture or just bits left over from the major carvings produced by the school.
Pontevedra's Chav Cars: In this part of Galicia, the word for chav is marulo. Like chavs in the UK, these young men really do like to customise their cars - sometimes professionally and sometimes not. This is called tuning in Spain. Un tuning is a car that's received treatment of one sort or another, some of it pretty fatal. Here are a few of the examples I see on my rounds..... Your bog standard model with black windows, alloy wheels and spoilers fore and aft. A couple of pretty standard models, in the mating position. A Portuguese visiting marulo who has obligingly put the word Tuning on his rear window. A typical model, complete with marulo babe. A rather superior, upmarket model. A BMW Alpina saloon, enhanced by a tasteful, home-made rear spoiler. My current favourite - a van with 3 features which identify the owner as a gypsy:- 1. the hat on the dashboard, 2. the open window which allows us all to enjoy the constant, booming Adalucian flamenco music, and 3. the 'agricultural' rear spoiler which completely negates the professional customising of the rest of the vehicle. Another couple of cars mating, including a yellow one. I have never known yellow cars to be driven by aggressive drivers outside Spain.
Closer to home:-
Scenes from my study:-
1. To my left, the world's ugliest above-ground swimming pool, almost finished.
2. To my right, the world's ugliest bar-b-q: 1. top view 2. side view
3. Down below, the world's most impressive terrace-made-from-granite-pieces-found-in-a-forest.
![The cart and [?] coffins](images/Cart.jpg){kind=link}
