Golden Hour in Sintra: Wine, Tiles, and the Art of Sitting Still
Golden hour on the tiled steps of Sintra village with a glass of Colares wine and nowhere to be. A…
journeydiaries
sofia costa The tiles on this fountain are cold through my dress
The buses leave at six, more or less. By six thirty Sintra belongs to someone else, and that someone else…
The fog hasn’t lifted
Sintra at eight in the morning, and the fog has decided to stay. It sits low in the pines, thick…