In a small village en route to Santiago, Spain, we stopped because a friend knew of this blacksmith. No signs on door and not a tourist destination. Greeted by the hunchbacked smith with a warm smile who was probably in his 80's and his wife who was telling us of her worries and was very talkative (only spanish). When he dies there is no one to take his place.The animals will have to go elsewhere and his door knockers and knives will be relics.I bought a door knocker. Way too big for my US door!