Lost in Evora
On the other side we found a nice restaurant. We had some cheese. We thought we'd go back to the car by cutting around the hillside. Here is how we conceived it:
An hour and a half later we were defeated, back at the restaurant. We retraced our steps over the hill. Thus it was in Evora that we finally learned that there are only two forms of locomotion: Move Blindly Forward and Retrace Your Steps.
In that nice restaurant Craig had pork Alentejana (with clams) and I had a beef dish, and we had a fine red wine, served in hot water. Later we concurred that it was not clear whether this was the local custom, to serve red wine in hot water, or whether we had said something to indicate that we strangers from a strange land liked our red wine hot. It wasn't bad that way, and we all smiled and bobbed and parted friends.
In the night it stormed. We decided Craig had driven far enough. Instead of continuing on to Coimbra, we would head for Lisbon, cutting our circuit a bit short.
A couple of near-misses. At left, this is almost a picture of me. At right: the Temple of Diana.
