The wedding crasher.
November 10th 2006 For my last few days in the country, things in Portugal have gone entirely Portuguese. A transit strike shuts down Lisbon during the morning rush, and Sete Rios - the main bus hub out of the city - suddenly feels as good as half-way to Madrid. Traffic snarl-ups have knotted the streets of Lapa. I’m caught in their slow, peristaltic push as I make my way to the station - my knapsack packed for a
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