TE19 Iberian Adventure

Passing Time in Portugal

“Hello you old fool.” Rodrick was waiting at the practice range.

My Grandfather introduced me to a jocular Scot peeking out from underneath a tatty tennis visor.

“He injuredhisbacktrying toliftpavingslabs.”Grandadexplained, “Stupid fool.”

“He’s a nice chap,” Grandad later explained, “but very eccentric. He just wants to perfect his swing.”

Intruth itwasmoreof aconversationthanagolf lesson, theywould sooner retire to the clubhouse bar to enjoy a beer overlooking the verdant links. “Salazar opened up Portugal to foreigners – Look at it now.” Rodrick gestured to the High-rise hotels, “white whales beached upon the sandy shores!”

With Portugal’s Faustian pact on our mind we headed back. ***

Fridaywasmusic night at theTavern. LocalswatchedTVat the bar and initiated expats chatted on long tables. The local wine; cheap and wonderfully well-structured, flowed like a river. Entradas appeared; olives, breads, chouriço and hard cheese. Grandfather resented the fact that he could not order a steak.

“My teeth aren’t up to it anymore.” He complained, “But the Duck is fantastic.”

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