The first impression is silence. An immense silence. Then, the horizons as far as the eye can see. The green of the crops. The ploughed or fallow fields. The grey patches of olive groves and montado. And, above this absolute and indescribable harmony, silence. Always.
Only occasionally can the bells of a flock be heard in the distance, on the other side of the dam; or a lark streaks across the warm March afternoon, soaring into the air, crazy with freedom.
Here, we feel that it is still possible to reconcile ourselves with life. To forget everything and start over. To believe that things happen in their natural order.
This wise and just balance with nature is the most lasting impression we carry in our memory.
The Vale do Gaio Hotel. Only a bird's name would be bearable in this harmony. The house is its nest. It is this domestic comfort that we feel as soon as we open its doors. At the end of the afternoon, on the terrace overlooking the dam, we watch the sun set gently. Storks fishing along the banks. Birds looking for nests to spend the night. Perhaps a jay wanders around in the night, looking for a place to roost. And we are in the jay's nest, or rather, in the Vale do Gaio Hotel, forgotten by the world.
Again the soft bleating of the rattles. It seems like a very old sound that reminds us of Jano, a shepherd from Torrão, brought to us by the pen of Bernardim Ribeiro.
In the distance, the lights of the town of Torrão come on.