footsteps of Saramago
Today seems like a much cooler day (24.5 ° C in the room). I am in the cloister of the former monasteiro de Jesus, now a museum of Aveiro. Pull the end of a tune that only yesterday I dared not even imagine. The museum is open on Sunday not only, but free.
I woke up well this morning: fresh and rested. I had breakfast "Continental" hotel, a hotel that has seen better days, perhaps under a dictatorship? but that still retains the charm of time. The room is all wood and creaks like the inside of a brig. The waitresses are old and for many customers of the day, their uniforms old ways obsolete. It 's a place where it is hard to imagine sitting at a table, his face torn down and turned off the Pereira Mastroianni. The eighteenth century facade but is really nice and well kept.
the streets almost deserted, I like to take some pictures. I watch people leave the function in the Church of Mercy. The façade with a portal Manueline tiles and is really nice, but it is well exposed to the sun, I do not know if the photo will be feasible. Carefully observing the faces and movements of the faithful, sense, or seems to sense that these Portuguese look like 20/25 years ago the Italians'. It 's a feeling that does not find plausible reasons, but often the impressions of the skin are also more equitable.
Then, instead of returning to campus after 5 years in the hot sunshine makes me decide to beaches.
There is a long strip of land between the sea and the lagoon (called the Costa Nova), lined with many houses designed by local architects, but there are also examples of speculative houses and fishermen, and these latter is the most features with the vertical slats of wood colored alternately white and red or green or blue or ... Back with the Mind to the previous year, Peniche, Nazaré, Figueira da Foz.
take a sample of sand, clear enough, for the collection. The beach is behind a dune, but does not prevent the sea view and is less crowded. I wash an apple under the gargoyle remained open as possible and eat it, enjoying the bitter taste. There is no need to stop, and go on to Ilhavo.
Here I should visit the naval museum but is closed for renovation and expansion. The museum of ceramics would instead open, but I can not stand the ceramic always jump the boards and display cases in museums and only think of a museum of ceramics makes me sick.
Step by Agueda almost nonstop, are attracted to the greenhouse Caramulo. The landscape is really unexpected and the smell of resin permeates the warm air. The road becomes more winding and seems to rise without end and goal. A
Caramulo there is only a few resort spa and hotel for the museum. Today is a day of museums and even at this later, perhaps because the place looks kitsch and I'm afraid the scam. The ex-sanatorium (but will it?) Is almost deserted. The time seems to run slow or slide at all, certain places seem to mountain tracks, the air is pure and peroxide.
go down precipitously, as they rose slowly, going around the maximum slope towards Tondela.
E 'a time that does not lend itself to thoughts, if I can soon get to Viseu in time to see something.
But the city is all a yard so I can not lose that. It is now late for the visits, then I try accommodation, but there is no indication and the adventure continues ... Finally I find a residencia to Moinho de Vento ***, evocative name, but not very responsive to the expectations.
E 'in room 206 that I write these lines (from the mercy of the people from the church). These are the 23 and I'm really tired and it does not have dinner. The traveler may have impressed me with his qualms about not explicit, or perhaps it was not ... In short, if I Viseu has reserved only disappointment, this should not be an appropriate and then dribbling the traveler's literary articles, direct statements that hospitality must be unknown in this land.
least the AC works tonight, the fact remains that I can not do down the thermostat below 26.5 ° C. I see TV in the synthesis of GP, the Ferrari one-two, then slept.
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