sábado, setembro 08, 2007

Quinta do Lago 3

O Sol já se pôs na Ria Formosa. As férias chegaram ao fim. Comemos no Gigi mais uma vez, agora com os amigos. Pedimos um Pregado (um peixe) para seis. Vemos depois na factura que pesava 2.38 Kg. Custou-nos 185 euros, só o peixe! As gaivotas sobrevoam a praia e deixam toda a gente a olhar para o céu. Passam os aviões já com o trem de aterragem, vão aqui para perto, para Faro, onde chegam turistas todos os dias. Continuamos rodeados de ingleses. São agora mais barulhentos. Talvez porque tenham bebido. Jogamos Trivial em grupo e aproveitamos todos os momentos para mais um cartão. Rimo-nos com as respostas e elogiamos a cultura de cada um. Há coisas fantásticas. Na piscina tomamos banho ao fim do dia. A água está morna e só temos frio à saída. Voltamos a jogar. Saímos quando o sistema de rega nos dá outro banho e as melgas saem de casa para nos vir morder. Estamos todos picados e não comprámos Fenistil. São as férias de Verão. Bebemos sangria e vinho tinto. Eu não, fico-me pela coca-cola com gelo e limão. E bebo um galão antes do jantar. As osgas acumulam-se na parede da casa. Branca. Contámos 10. Pequenas e grandes, imóveis. Já não me assustam. As baratas desapareceram. As dores de cabeça é que não. Consumimos um House atrás do outro, mesmo os repetidos. Deitamo-nos tarde e só saímos da cama quando a SIC Notícias anuncia o Jornal do Meio-Dia. Kate e Gerry McCann foram constituídos arguidos. Pavarotti morreu. Estamos no Algarve dos ricos. Mas tenho saudades de casa.

2 comentários:

joshua disse...

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Cerejinha disse...

O Algarve daqueles que podem, não daqueles que querem. :-)
Onde o estacionamento custa €7,00 (revertidos para caridade), onde o café é ao preço do petróleo e onde, em casa, parecemos estrangeiros.