Tuesday, August 30, 2016
A terrifying accessory.
Cool in the morning. Hot and overcast in the afternoon.
Sophie alternates between the wooden garden table and a spot on the stone floor in front of a fan.
In the neighbouring village the hotel is setting out tables for lunch.
The little pilgrimage church is empty.
Some churches are dark, mysterious places. This one is happily chaotic.
From the battlements where the chateau used to stand, before the revolution, we can look across a countryside peppered with little villages. Under the twin pressures of progress and population Britain has changed out of all recognition in the last 40 years. This view, with the exception of the new bridge, would be recognizable to any of the locals great great grandparents.
Bob spends much of the day watching Portuguese pilgrims pass along the little lane. Sometimes he stands with a soft lamb his mouth at others he stands and guards without the aid of this terrifying accessory.