I imagine Gropa spends his walk buried in reminiscence.  At 60, he’s a pretty old man to still be kicking around.  The last time he saw this caravan, there were different sights, different sounds, different monsters, and Merunga.  Merunga who looks no older today than she did all those years ago.  Years ago, when Gropa was seventeen, he thought of going with Merunga, of running away from a dreary village, but he did not. As he returns to Merunga for the last time, it is with 43 years of crushing regret.