Hospitality (mfg)
We’ve passed through a lot of small villages, sometimes walking the main streets, sometimes on the edge of town.
Most of these pleasant places have blurred together. The newer homes next to decrepit structures that hold on to their shapes as best they can.
So why do I remember Zambujal specifically?
Because we were welcomed, even though we didn’t see a soul.
in addition to the plaque, one of the streets was named Rua de Santiago. It was also the only place so far where municipal signs showing the route supplement the happy shells.
I wish I’d taken a photo of the simple tile that thanked us for visiting and wished us well on our way.
I already treasure the places we’ve passed through as we’ve walked the miles, yet hold a special place in my heart for the Zambujalians.
Little kindnesses can impact big.
Bonus love: the rest stop Bill talks about in his post seems to have been an individual effort, yet maybe not a coincidence that it’s just inside the Zambujal border.