Getting to the village of Gondramaz with the van was a challenge, not only because it is right on top of the mountain, but also because there was a big fog and wet weather.
This village dresses in Schist, from head to toe. It’s not too big, but enough to take us into a fantasy world. The little windows with flowers, the figures of art that are found everywhere, the shale on the walls, on the floor, everywhere.
When we arrived at the village we have a poem by Miguel Torga, who greeted us with sweet words: “Life is made of swamps: Of great mountains, waiting for movement, Searas waved by the wind. signs, Of nests that formerly were in the Beiras, Of dust, of the shadow of a fig tree, to see this marvel: my father to erect a vine, like a mother who braids her daughter “