West Ham in the Premiership!

They've done it, beaten Preston. All right, so I am a sunny day, weekend supporter; so it wasn't through thick & thin - what of it? (just a giggolo!). Never mind, they've done it, and I always, secretly, watched to see how they were doing in the First Division. You lot can talk; Man U, Chelsea, Arsenal! that's easy. See how the other half live, I say.

All dressed up!

Braga, at the Casa de Pasto Pregao with it's "larger, plainer menu" (Lonely Planet). The first night it was late, so we ate inside the restaurant. We had roast pork. Later in the evening, the waitresses and kitchen staff were fascinated by a climactic episode of a Brazilian novella. A baby had been stolen by a "wicked step mother" and she was about to toss it into the foaming current of Iguacu. In the end, she only threw herself in.
We returned here on Saturday night, even made a reservation. Looking at this photo, I feel so proud; "smart" and going out for dinner (wouldn't they have been proud of me?). After the meal, it was the Cafe Viana for Gallaoes, and people-watching.

Braga view from window of Hotel Francfort. That's the Cafe Viana, just beyond the fountain, where we'd have meia de leites. bollos and ice cream. That's the Torre de Menagem behind. We overlooked the Praca da Republica.

Lizard 

Market Ep 

Guimaraes 

Road side Bob 

Espigeiros

Granite "espigeiro", for storing maize and grain. There were hundreds around. It surprised me to see a few new ones, of concrete, which were obviously still in use.

Long horned cattle 

Old cottage  

National Park of Alvao

We spent a whole day in the National Park. Driving and walking. Strangely, there were no accurate maps of the area. We had to put together various peices of different maps but even then it was impossible to be sure. This little cottage was in a very old rural village and we spoke with the two old ladies who lived there. They declined to have their photo taken. There were no tourists here.

Bob the braveheart 

The silent jazz band 

Two Little Travelling Homes

Ep is well organized and can put up with a lot. But she does draw the line at some of my enthusiasms. Suffice it to be said, she is not fully convinced of the merits of the outdoor life. This was our first site. Just by the river, it was cool and shady and very close to the centre of town. Ep would have liked to have stayed another day, but I was on a mission; we'd just arrived in Portugal and had a lot of ground to cover. Amarante has a beautiful situation and specialises in a particular kind of delicious pastele, which we might have researched more thoroughly.

Festival Lights

Ep took this picture, she zoomed in, trying to catch me going over the bridge. She missed me but caught our best view of the Church at Amarante. That was our first evening, we were having our first meal, it was on the balcony overlooking the Rio Tamega. Traditional Portugese food means large quantities! It took us a whole week to find a way of getting less. It comes on a big platter with huge portions of fish or meat - enough for a family of four. The cost was around £10 each but this included starters, wine, dessert and coffee. The wine was mostly vino verde, served cold; we preferred "branco" to "tinto".

Ep 

Eel or Water snake?

Double-click the picture and you might just make out the snake. The river fascinated me. There were plaques charting the high water marks of floods (cheio) , the last, in 2002, is the highest, almost reaching the top of the arches of the bridge.

Amarante5 

Bob, explaining 

Amarante4 

Bob 

Amarante3 

Amarante2 

I like leaving the photography to Ep. For me, taking photos takes me away from the experience, I become a voyeur, a tourist. She relieves me of the duty, and, I think, does it better.

We're back!

We arrived at Stanstead round midnight. House still standing. Tom must have been watering Cedric, the sweet peas and the growbag of mixed lettuce, out the back. I phoned my work to see if they needed me. They don't, they've found a family for Mahadi, my Kurdish student. I'm sorry to lose him. The other two; Stephane and Adil (Congolese and Somali) , are now attending Springboard College. I had been hoping that more young people might have arrived - no such luck!
It means that I have time to catch up on the blog front and tell you about the holiday. First, the terrible thing that I did. When we left the camp site, at Guimaraes, I forgot to collect Ep's passport. On the last day, we had to go all the way back to pick it up. At least it gave us another chance to take a sentimental journey up the "teleferico" (sorry! no picture), it was the first cable car in Portugal and was built 10 years ago. Second, the next terrible thing, I left £150 sterling in the ashtray of the hire car. I just remembered when we were in the baggage retrieval hall in Stanstead. How could I do such a thing? I had brought the money, hoping to change it directly, but soon realised that nowadays nobody wants the hassle of currency exchange - you just use your card. I thought the ashtray was the ideal safe place. I phoned them first thing this morning - the money was still there(phew!) and they'll send it with Western Union.
I hate myself for doing such stupid things! It seems I can't go on a holiday without committing them; visiting Simon - I missed my flight to Vancouver, going to Brazil - I told Selma the wrong day so she had to wait another 24 hours in Recife to meet me, going to France - I forgot to leave the keys under the mat for Joan. This time I thought I'd been so good (with Ep's calming influence!) not a bit of it!
It's not only the problem caused by the mistake, it is the self-inflicted torture I have to endure. Then I project onto Ep the role of silently-crowing, triumphant-but-patient, adult. Then I have to start again with rebuilding the mask of cool, capable maturity that has slipped to reveal the helpless child, the true "me".
As you might judge from the photos, these hiccups could only add to the tapestry.