Returning to the Anglosphere
Tomorrow I will be flying back to London, my time here has shown me many things to like in and about Portugal. The wine, vinho verde, that my Uncle makes is so drinkable it’s disturbing. Bottles I have known, either cause hangovers, purple teeth or instant heartburn. None of this presents itself, he said, it is basically grape juice, nothing has been added, just grapes and time. Going to miss those dark violet glasses.
All of the houses, I’ve seen are cool and solid, like little mountains.
There were some sturdy, leather shoes in a market, with thick waxed thread stitches and polished nails reflecting back, from deep in the grooves of the sole. Wish I had bought them. The market has moved on and my memory of the name brand is impossible to find on-line. Has anyone heard of Sota shoes? Thought it would be clever to find all of the styles from the brand, but I can’t find the brand on-line at all.
The terrain in this area is all drama.
Driving here is like gambling. Accelerating to 80km/h for a few metres is usual, the roads have narrow, intermittent shoulders, various textures, twist like spilt wires. Seatbelts are available in the front seats and nonchalance is required. To turn into my Aunt and Uncle’s place, there is a sharp 180º turn to a cobbled road that drops around 11º and then has another wider turn in the opposite direction soon after. When I was last here as a child I threw up while in the back seat of a small white car during that turn.
I won €4 on a lotto ticket!