TE19 Iberian Adventure
John Hartley
“Salazar’s favourite team,” Grandadmotioned to Pedro’s hat. They shared an encyclopaedic knowledge of European football.
“Our league is just a steppingstone,” Pedro lamented, “They’ve all got one eye on a move to the Premier League or La Liga.”
***
Leaving Maria and Judy to chat in the shade, we walked into town where a flea market was in full swing, touting all manner of local artefacts, wooden antiques, and painted ceramics. Lagos was besieged by the Romans, but Sertorius, a Roman mercenary, and seven hundred Libyans came to their aid with two thousand wineskins of water. “Sertorius and his band fought them off, despite being outnumbered three to one.” Pedro recalled. “Patriotism was more flexible in those days.” Grandad chuckled. Nearby, the nondescript St Anthony’s gives way to an extravagant interior of gold-leaf carvings; cherubs, gargoyles, scrolls, palms, and vines, what Saramago labelled “paroxysm within four walls - Everything the baroque age invested is here in some part.”
On the altar stands the statute of St Anthony and the Christ child that accompanied the local regiment to the battle.
The sceptic sees only needless extravagance and askes “Why wasn’t this sold and the money given to the poor?”
“But the one who is forgiven much, loves much,” Goes the reply. 184
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