Evora´s best cultural offering was the famous (or should I say infamous) "osso do capela" . . . a huge, ancient cavernous chapel constructed of over 5000 skeletons. Rows of skulls formed the arches, ulnas and tibias the walls, and pelvises the window casings. 
Completing the decor were two desiccated corpses hanging from the rafters, one of which was a baby´s. Ewwww . . .
Completing the decor were two desiccated corpses hanging from the rafters, one of which was a baby´s. Ewwww . . .We are still in Tavira, Portugal, psyching ourselves up for the tripping to and trekking in Morocco. There is something to be said for sleeping in late, going to the beach, drinking beer while composing e-mails and eating your brains out.
We are EVEN MORE TAN, although we are also COVERED in various types of new bug bites, numerous scars from old bug bites . . . and I still have that damn "prickly heat" rash, although 
it´s now concentrated on my legs instead of my chest and arms, so I can only hope it´s working it´s way through my body before we hit a country where it´s REALLY hot. I won´t go into the details of Eli´s rash other than two words: Sand, shorts.
We are staying in the private home of a quaint and ancient couple who speak zero English. The woman agreed to do our laundry for us today ... although I think our pantomiming of a "smallish" load (a lie, even if we did speak Portuguese) was different than her idea. Hopefully, she´s not out in the river somewhere pounding it on a rock. The only somewhat offputting aspect of their home is that there is a large and shadowy room filled with LOTS of naked and semi-dressed baby dolls with abnormally-large seeming heads. Sometimes the door to this room is completely closed, sometimes just ajar. I´m not sure I want to know WHY they´re there. Sometimes you just don´t need to know.
it´s now concentrated on my legs instead of my chest and arms, so I can only hope it´s working it´s way through my body before we hit a country where it´s REALLY hot. I won´t go into the details of Eli´s rash other than two words: Sand, shorts.We are staying in the private home of a quaint and ancient couple who speak zero English. The woman agreed to do our laundry for us today ... although I think our pantomiming of a "smallish" load (a lie, even if we did speak Portuguese) was different than her idea. Hopefully, she´s not out in the river somewhere pounding it on a rock. The only somewhat offputting aspect of their home is that there is a large and shadowy room filled with LOTS of naked and semi-dressed baby dolls with abnormally-large seeming heads. Sometimes the door to this room is completely closed, sometimes just ajar. I´m not sure I want to know WHY they´re there. Sometimes you just don´t need to know.
All for now . . .
Stormi
Stormi
