Free
Verse
An
Outing in Portugal
Driving up
to Alentejo I had to travel up a long, steep road,
and since my scooter is small, I stopped a few time to
cool
its engine. On top the view was striking—ochre,
sandy yellow,
and green and I could see the far away ocean, or rather,
thought so. I took some pictures—when
I later recorded them
on my computer, the ocean was a blue hazy mountain.
Almodover, an inland town, was my goal, only because it
has such a musical name, a promise of a new exiting
life.
The wind was cold and I´m old—the
ride would take about
two hours, but I did drink a glass of water and ate a
sandwich at
the local inn—absentminded
as I am I dare not drink and drive.
Yet, the trip had done me good—once
more I saw how
beautiful real Portugal is, away from sun seekers,
sunglasses
worn at night in sleek bars, and meaningless
conversations.
Another
Journey
I
stopped a two metre snake crossed the road
in the deep narrow valley so forbidden only
the midday sun dare intrude for a little while.
Portugal is a small country but as soon as you
leave a town- not the coast- it looks deserted,
and I worried in case I had a puncture…eerie.
Yet, every so often I noticed bus stops, in this
seemingly wilderness there must be cottages
tucked away in the foliage; finally a village.
Had a coffee, asked how to get on a main road:
sempre emfrente*, so I did till I came to a fork
in the road, didn´t pick it up just carried on.
Tomorrow I´m driving to a monastery where
the monks make their own wine I will buy
a bottle and celebrate my birthday on Sunday.
*sempre emfrente—
always in front
