Therapy

The therapy Once I drove from the south to the North of Portugal with a sojourn into Spain, long enough to see how different the two countries are made me anti-unipolar. I was driving around before the creation of motorways and mobile phones made driving into a dull discourse. A puncture in the middle of nowhere caused a problem I had a puncture but was saved by a man on his tractor saved me from utter failure. I had the dog with me on the journey dogs are patient don’t fiddle with the radio and want to stop for coffee nor do they suggest another, better route to take. A dog waits till you stop at a nice place, woods for it to run around smelling things, and back in the car they sleep. Villages made of the landscape hewn from stones and forgotten are strewn around some on top of a hill. Others are deep in a valley; flowers by every door make houses look prettier. The villages also have in common a café/bar/shop were a traveller can get a beer, a bit to eat and rooms to let if not officially (tax) best of all, people like you. After a week of driving around overcoming a failed love an affair, cured, and the dog and I went home.