We left Santiago and checked at what time sunset would be at the end of the Earth: half and hour later than in Portugal the day before. Perfect.
The fog had lifted and Boyfriend drove slowly so that we could breathe in the new landscapes, wet and green just like in Scotland. Cows, trees, boulders covered in moss and lichens.
The little church dedicated to Mary by the side of the road in Ordoeste.
The Roman bridge in Brandomil, that sat, calm like a buddah, over a sleepy stream that gurgled quietly as it carefully flowed by.
We noticed little houses on stilts outside nearly every barn or farmhouse. We speculated that they were sanctuaries, because of the cross. But then we saw one with a door, and were newly perplexed. Finally, we found out that they are called Horreo and are granaries, in which corn and potatoes and hay are kept far from the humidity in the soil. The photo below is horrific and taken from the car because, at this point, the sun was low on the horizon and time, as we say in Italian, was becoming tighter and tighter.
Another photo taken from the car as we were driving by. This one came out better, though.
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