The village is quite small, no more than a few dozen houses and buildings. A small pier contains a number of brightly colored rowboats currently moored. The houses are of an architectural style that feels somewhat antiquated but they all appear well kept. There are a few folks about, dressed in clothing, much like their buildings, that seems a bit from the past. They nod or wave to you, seemingly nonplussed by your foreign attire. A tiny open air market in the center of the village hosts a number of stalls selling fruits and vegetables and baked goods. Sitting on a couple of barrels down by the pier, a gathering of young folk play soft melodies on simple instruments; a flute, a small drum, a hand lyre. There is a pastoral calmness to the whole place. A myriad of seabirds loop around the village, their cries joining with the improvised music. A single cobblestone road leads away from the settlement, following the coast eastward.
Still not quite believing what I'm seeing, I decide it would be best to try for some casual conversation before exploring a little more. Hoping I have the right currency, I head for the market to buy some fruit from a seller and ask them if they can recommend a place to stay for a stranger passing through.