Having visited the Iberian Peninsular's South-Eastern and Western coastlines, here we were now visiting Caroline's cousins on the Northern edge. Not that we saw the sea during our short stay: in our shirtsleeves, we sat about in the lovely garden, my most strenuous exercise being to pick a basketful of persimmon - a new fruit to me: from afar, they look a bit like oranges.Nothing at Muros seemed to have changed much since our last visit, in 2004. In particular, we received the same immensely warm welcome. Our washing was whisked away. I found a hole in one of my socks had been mended on its return. We were fetched from and driven to our trains, and sent off with a large bar of chocolate, which saw us through the rest of our holiday. After so much city life, it was a joy to be in such a haven of peace.
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