Puerto de Vigo

On my last day we start pretty late. We drive to Vigo to buy a funny hat for E. and some sweets for my love. There is not much market going on, so we walk to the port. I try to strike up a conversation with the security guard and ask about the name of the fish trailer behind him, confident in my spanish. Without missing a beat, that this is called a ship. Ok, my Spanish is no bueno agora, mais in the end at least makes for funny mistakes. I LOVE BOATS. The absurd size differences, the feeling of freedom, loneliness and disconnectedness from the world. the connections to world politics, environments, oceanography, wind platforms, capitalism, colonial history and present, drug and modern slavery crime, the patriarchy of the seamen world, the rich man's yacht dick... Much to think about, much to connect, but also, they are so aesthetic. We catch the perfect sundown in the port, the place that put Vigo on a map.