A BREATH OF PORTUGAL
After reaching the top of the cliff I find my self looking down at a massive shoreline. To the south, giant rock formations flanking the coast as far as I can see. To the north a series of small bays and beaches fill my view. The salty air blows my mind and the mist does the rest.
Swell trains march in and I picture an endless view over the sea. Off shore wind outlines the crest of the waves.
Morning light illuminates a flag of Portugal just right in front of a perfect a frame and I can not stop Alessandro from paddling out. He surfs until his arms feel like they’re going to fall off.
A white facade of an old house in this pleasant town captures my attention. Actually I’m fascinated by every single details of this architecture. Santa Cruz faces the ocean since the dawn of time with its terraces and gardens. Its narrow streets covered with white bricks lead me behind another corner.
We stop for a moment after the surf session watching the sun go down. A deep breath of pure salt before dark.