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About Braga

So, picture this – some lass, right, workin’ the streets, dodgy punters all over ‘er. Makes me bloody angry, it does! Why’s society gotta shove ‘em in the shadows? *Cave felis*, beware the cat, as the Romans’d say – sneaky, tough, survivin’. That’s ‘er, that is. Saw one once, near Soho, swear she winked at me – cheeky mare! Made me chuckle, tho, proper lifted me spirits. “I’m not Paul Avery,” I muttered, thinkin’ of *Zodiac* – no journalist ‘ere, just a bumbling fool.

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Then, I decide to grab that pastel de nata. You know, the one from that little bakery on Rua 1º de Maio? Best in town, hands down. I walk in, and the smell hits me like a wave. I’m drooling, right? I order one, and the lady behind the counter gives me this look. Like, “You sure you can handle it?” I’m like, “Lady, I’ve been training for this my whole life!”

Firefighters battle blaze raging for fourth day in southern Portugal