Sara

As a tourist, you see what seems like an endless stream of new people in a given day, and it is always a shock when you begin to recognize one person. While it seems like an unlikely phenomenon, in reality, it happens, and in that instant you are rushed with dueling feels of paranoia, competition, and allegiance. Paranoia for the sense that someone is following you; competition because first come first serve mentality takes over when facing busy attractions; and intrigue for in that instance you begin to have a history with said other person(s). For me, a majority of the time, it is usually at least sighting three before there is much intrigue. By that point fate has come into play.

As Eric and I climbed to the top of the Castelo dos Mouros last Thursday, the ocean dampness enclosed the air around the castle and scattered our view of the Palacio, causing us to remain atop longer than would be the norm as we hope for dissipation. Although the fog never cleared, I think it was a divine cosmos that placed it there for in our waiting we made a new friend – Sara.

Sara was traveling alone and as such I offered to take a picture of her at the top of the Castelo for even with the splotchy fog there were still some stunning views to be had. Realizing we both spoke English, Sara declined as she had no camera but that was enough to spark discussion. While short-lived at first, we would encounter Sara later (sighting #3 – intrigue) during our descent back into the town. Amazingly we would learn that Sara came from Malmo, Sweden, my ancestral home and Eric’s often destination as his boss is located in Malmo. Of all the places in the world for the three of us to meet, it would be in Portugal interim destination for all.

It is always nice to make a friend, especially an interesting one. Sara was likely in her thirties, a curly blond that showed signs of Swedish heritage. She was a gardener by trade but was in the process of retraining to be a dance instructor. She was in Portugal to study African dance, and she had spent many previous months traveling abroad on the same endeavors in Africa and even Brazil. We spent but an hour or so together, exchanging stories of home and present over a coffee before she headed back to Lisbon on the train. Sara was on the last leg of a journey that seemed to have strengthened roots to a home and a place which she had been away from for a long time. Soon she would return to Sweden and to Malmo where she hopes to open the city’s first dance school.

Eric and I snapped a photo for Sara so that she would be able to remember her day in Sintra, and perhaps yet this week we will meet for coffee again or one day in Malmo.