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33 Reality Bites We were in Europe. We were in Portugal. That fact finally sank in as I stood on a windswept ledge transfixed by a starry moonless sky. Our tent, pitched overlooking the town of Mertola, with the luminous flood of artificial illumination playing on its imposing medieval castle. It was easy to imagine that in the not too distant past people lived inside the castle and barbarism was just outside its protective gates. All considering, we really hadn't come that far in five hundred years. People still barred themselves inside their castles and wild dogs and infidels still prowled outside the walls. A pack of dogs yelped incessantly; their voices carried up the hillside. I read late into the night. Just before I shoved my ear plugs in to snore blissfully away, the dogs hit a feverous wailing pitch of brotherly togetherness howling up a din to wake the dead. I heard Susan in her tent laugh and murmur, "Oh, God." |
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