The Portugese seem to favour the rather florid and pretentiously heroic in their statuary.
This guy is anything but – he's under a giant Moreton Bay fig in the Jardim de Estrela and I couldn't find anyone with enough English to tell me who he is. There's no inscription anywhere – perhaps google later. But to me he's the universal and humble mover of mountains, unsung and mostly forgotten by the florid and pretentious. He is dressed like an Australian but could be any worker anywhere. No seagulls for him.
I took his photo on the 15 k walk to the dentist at Saldanha and back. Pete had a go at barber surgery on my stitch this morning and we decided that the tools at hand are not fine enough so up to the dentist again, where Dra Bruno removed it in a nanosecond.
And the new wind generator has at last revved up enough to demonstrate its efficacy so, subject to major change in the forecast, we will wait for this little SW blow to soften and leave tomorrow afternoon on the tide. Cross em again please.
For me, the usual inertia based partly on apprehension – but there will be yet another farewell coldie at the wharf Caff tomorrow and then into it. I won't really feel we're on our way until we are clear of Brazil and heading east.
Meantime, off to Pingos Doce to stock up on rather expensive snickers and mars bars. We've been a bit profligate here in the Doca. The dead fish seem to have evolved beyond the smelly stage so life is a bit easier.