postcard from Pocinho

We’d thought we might take the Miradouro train from Pocinho to Pinhao today, our last day in Vila Nova de Foz Coa. It takes about an hour and we thought we would have lunch, then come back. But then John read that there were labour issues affecting rail service and it would be just our luck to find ourselves stranded in Pinhao, suitcases (and rental car) back in Foz Coa. So we drove out to Pocinho, on the high road, N102, with the mountains like beautiful textured quilts: vineyards turning red and gold, olive groves silvery green, almond orchards tawny. And we found the pretty little station with its huge iron scales for weighing…something. A man was checking to see if the newly- varnished bench was dry. Swallows swooped in the damp air. It was a train trip not taken, small regret riding back in the car with us to Foz Coa.

Note: I know there should be diacritics on these place names but my phone is too jumpy and temperamental for me to apply them.