In the delicate burgundy of your chocolate undulates the discipline of old vineyards and imagined samurais. Among the stern landscape flows this river bearing an almond heart, blinded by the crystalline whiteness of the sun. The snow petals descend upon the hills and brighten the solitary moss. The wind, heavy, twists the stone-stiff branches of vines. On these resilient shoulders of the land, where...
Roughed by time and scorched by the sun, decayed and aged by the persistency of the everlasting tides, here lies an elderly fishing port, tired, wrinkled, punctuated by a long silver beard and grey watery eyes. For decades that its skyscraper legs and crackling torso bear the weary load of fishermen's feet, semi-shredded ropes and improvised buoys, granting the access to...
Most people think of Alentejo as a harsh, rotund desert. Where temperatures rise way above the 40oC on a mid-summer day and the ground itself has nothing to offer except dust and rock solid earth. What they can't see is that this land is one of generosity, one of grandeur in everything that it owns, one that gives all that it...