Sintra afternoon

Sintra (on the Lisbon coast) is the hill of palácios where royalty would retreat to chill amidst its foggy micro-climes. Here hortensias grow the size of your face and damp weeps through all the buildings leaving a scuzzy abstract field of pinky grey and muddy yellow in its wake . Its abundant intense vegetation ranges from large palms, cacti, hortensia and mossy lichen. Old palacios are everywhere with the damp staining them pitch black and their gates a patinated greeny copper. All the street signs are hand -glazed tiles and the slim pavements have their basalt chequered between mosaic flowers still visible with odd lumps missing. Inspiration everywhere, a galaxy of mixed architechure, balconies with in wrought iron decorated in little hands, moons and other motifs.
At virtually every bend appeared an old fonte , some tiled, some very Moorish, spurting forth fresh spring water. At times the foggy, sea-soaked clounds reduce visiblity down to 10ft, adding to a magical musty air to the old palácios , with their austere spiked gates and creating a strange time-warped feel. Decay = decacdence, while chestnuts slowly roast in the square and large tourist coaches hurtle down its windy bends.