Meeting the Jamanta; or why Portugal keeps on surprising me
"What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams" Werner Herzog We had slept only two hours, woke up still tipsy judging from our nonsensical blabbering in the bus which no one could understand for making up new words and verb forms such as "si je chwaziland" at the crossovers of our multiple language conversation. Nevertheless, we were tired, but happy, for what was awaiting us on the other side of our journey was worth it. Beach house was the reward : surrounded by water, Atlantic ocean in front, Ria Formosa behind, blue sky all above, what more to ask for? Time for suspending the clock, lying immobile like a lizard, suntanning till burning and shedding an old skin to finally come out as a new person. Time for diving in the fresh Atlantic embrace, feeling humble in front of its swell and releasing all kind of sorrow in its depths. Time for childish joy while getting rolled over by the waves, crashing ...