W. and I go out for a walk in the surroundings, observing the wall again and, as usual, we can’t finish our walk without being invited for lunch. This time it is M. and his son inviting us to their roof terrace. Communication is difficult this time so we only learn that all the land we can see on the other side of the road belonged to M.’s father once. He tells us this while we eat from a tiny dish of olives.