Friday, May 13 Coimbra to Mealhada

(This is an experiment to see whether I can write in Word and then transfer it to my blog. Internet connections in Portugal when it is raining are very iffy. At the moment I do not have any and yet I am able to dictate to Word. That worked; now an experiment with a picture in the text.)

 May 12 an evening in Coimbra
I inquired at several of the bars that offered Fado at 10:00 tonight; all of them indicated that no women performed Fado in Coimbra. So, I decided to attend the 7pm concert performance at Fado Centro. If I liked it, I could make a late night out and go to a bar at 10pm.

(I have set my picture. Bear with me while I try pasting onto the blog. That doesn't work. I will insert the photos later.
Last experiment for this evening: see how the copy goes in compose rather than html mode. Perfect.
You probably are asking why I didn’t find all this out before I left? Because I don’t waste my time learning things I may not find useful.)

Much of the hour was spent telling us about the history, really unknown, of Coimbra Fado.

The guitarists were good; the singers fair at best. Frankly, my memory has Ivy League and fraternity songs way ahead! Net result: I went back to my hotel, had some soup in the bar and went to bed.

Friday, May 13 walked the 15 miles from Coimbra to Mealhada
I am writing this after having had a delightful dinner in the dining room. There were 7 of us in a room with seating for 70 a la carte customers and a buffet service area in a room behind. This a testament to the terrible weather.
I delighted in the perfectly spit-roasted suckling pig, the regional specialty. (Last year when I was walking in France I went through the area where duck is the specialty.  However since I was suffering from a hiatal hernia I was unable even to try it. This time, whatever the consequences, I was not going to miss the regional specialty.) A vegetable soup and a glass of red wine almost made me stop rubbing my hands together to get warm.

"My country cottage with local character"

I walked alone the whole day; enjoying being with ME. Somehow I missed four and a half of the torrential downpours by ducking into cafes just before their unannounced presence.

The scraggly pines reminded me of our first year at Windswept

selling Charlie Brown trees for $3 a tree ( total sales $33, carefully tucked in my shoe when we went to the firehouse for dinner with Santa Claus.) The eucalyptus groves of our life today.

The path varied from 4 lane highway to a barely perceptible  path through a meadow; the only perceivably missing part being slippery clay.

The one guarantee is puddles and more puddles.

May 13 is the day that three children allegedly saw the Virgin Mary. The towns were festooned with ribbons, shops and small restaurants closed, and the supermercado busy.

Per usual weather.com is predicting ònly one more day of rain. My Dutch colleagues say it will last at least four more.

Tomorrow will be whatever  it is. Goodnight.