If fall in Galicia is synonymous with chestnuts, then based on the 40-some pounds of chestnuts we've collected only in the past 10 days, I can ascertain with confidence: it's fall, y'all!
I know, I know, it's been fall for over three weeks now. But around here it sure hasn't seemed like it. Lately the weather has been so warm and sunny, you'd swear we were permanently living in the end of summer. The lovely weather was probably one of the reasons San Froilán this year was an absolute success for the masses. I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that this year marked the return to normal in a post-COVID-19 Lugo. While in 2020 and 2021, the city council tried to keep the spirit alive by programming ¨safe¨ concerts, it just wasn't the same. You had to groove to the music seated, masked, and separated from other attendees. That's why this year was a splendid return to San Froilán's glory days, with hordes circulating in the streets, gathering around concerts, greeting acquaintances passing by.
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| Pulpeira behind in red |
To make up for lost time, this year we went out not once, but twice. And I wasn't even impressed with the concerts, which is normally what would draw me out to the fall festival fun. The first time was accidental, really. In Spanish terms, we were merely going to ¨tomar algo,¨ to grab a drink and check out the atmosphere. That was the night before San Froilán, a holiday only in the city of Lugo, so there were only locals around and about (except for some vacationing retirees, that is). We ended up saliendo, going out until the late hours. The other occasion was on Saturday when we met up with friends for lunch. Although we didn't make it down to the casetas (temporary restaurants specializing in octopus), octopus was still on the menu. A San Froilán without octopus is hard to fathom. And since the pandemic, restaurants have been allowed to hire a polbeira/pulpeira (almost always female octopus chef) to set up her stand outside. The one outside our restaurant had orders coming from every direction.
This year I also enjoyed checking out the rides and carnival-style games set up, even though I didn't partake. The menfolk tried their hand and darts, and do you think they came back with a prize? Of course not. But someone I know rode the Ratón Vacilón (silly name of a rollercoaster) twice. I was encouraged to go on, too. But I prefer real rollercoasters that are permanently stuck to the ground.
Thursday was the fair's final day, a ninth day rather than eight. That concludes the San Froilán experience. Cooling temperatures, chestnuts galore, and changing leaves. Magosto is upon us! In fact, some chestnuts roasting on an open fire are in order this weekend...
