A long weekend away.
An English summer holiday, just four days, rained every one of them. The hotel was ok. A couple in the next room shagged noisily, interrupting our tv time, but thankfully their love making was as quick as it was loud.
Food was our main entertainment and managed a sliding scale between alright and very nice.
It’s odd being a guest in your old home town. We got caught in an early morning tourist rush hour. Hoards of anoraked and brollied visitors foraging for breakfast, I remembered how irritating the city’s guests were by midsummer, how missed they were after the quiet winter.
I realise that my last umbrella related post did not show a sufficient level of respect to my couple of truly lovely brollies. I wore my best brolly (printed, vintage 1970’s, wooden handle, with a shoulder strap) like a samurai sword across my back. That amused me. We stopped scuttling from doorways to cafes to bars and wracked up some steps after Cornflake bought serious wet weather gear. Long anorak and trousers, I felt that the trouser element was excessive. However, it fulfilled his waterproof outfit vision and made him happy. He initially asked the shop assistant for a wet suit which was momentarily confusing.
It might not sound like it, but we did enjoy ourselves.
I’m really looking forward to Portugal later in the summer though.
fat tart 
Great post! It’s funny about your umbrella being strapped to your back. In this rural area (central Portugal) the villagers go round with the curly umbrella tucked into back of their collars in case of rain. Frees up both hands for holding things 🌂
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A good plan!
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