Nowhere

There was a straightfoward intention: to go and have tea in Sintra, that jewel of a town that bewitched Byron and found a pedestal as UNESCO's World Site. But, on taking the road less travelled, one needs to be open to the joys of the ride.

It was Nowhere where we found a river swollen by the rains of the last days. A bridge of manholes added to the sense that the current was strong and the river determined to make its brave way to wherever it wanted to make its brave way. We had no idea where we were.

But, on looking further, we found out that the street leading to the river and the bridge of manholes goes by the extravagant name of Street of the Half Orange. No one can say the Portuguese lack imagination for toponyms!

Eventually we got to Sintra, where the delights of local traditional pastry were waiting for us. We went for the "Travesseiros", literally cushions of puffed pastry with an egg custard filling that are simply to die for...

Utterly impossible to eat just one.