Of course, it's hard to be convinced after a 45 minute train ride of surburban drabbery - but after you round the corner and start walking up hill, the scenery changes and you'll find yourself agreeing with Lord Byron. Apparently King Ferdinand brought back hundreds of exotic flora to populate his paradise with, even eucalyptus trees, whose nuts we saw on the way up to the Moorish castle.
A beautiful palace can be seen from the castle, simple and elegant:
The town:
Anh enjoying sweet treats from Piriquita, the famous pastry store:
We also went to Cascais that day, and never quite figured how to pronounce it correctly, so refered to it as 'couscous', like real plebs. 'We' is Christina from Eppso, and 3 young Americans on exchange in Granada, whose names I've forgotten but will always remember as how I normally think of young Americans – naïve and polite, and 'nice as pie' (except the ones who listen to heavy metal music, dress in black and carry guns, naturally).
Bye Portugal, like a Pacman with sharp teeth who releases a bird to say I hope to see you soon...
