| At first glance, Arzua seemed a
rather characterless place, approached past a filling station and some
tatty workshops. I resigned myself to a dull evening and found a
clean, comfortable pension for €24. The landlady offered to do my
washing which for some inexplicable reason I refused. I wandered
further into the town and sure enough there was a square, although more or
less deserted. I sat with a cold beer, watching the world go by and
gradually became aware that the square was filling up with old and young;
grandmothers on one bench, old men on another, teenage girls on one side,
boys on the other, trendy professionals reading their papers, chatting and
sipping their drinks at the tables and a surprisingly active kindergarten
with dozens of young mothers proudly showing off their toddlers' new
clothes and keeping an eye out for all the others. If I had to
choose a place to raise a family, this might well be it! |
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