Harvest time here in central Portugal, with harvest festival celebrations, regional food markets and general thanking god for the harvest. Our village is no exception, with the annual harvest Mass and procession through the village at the weekend. So here we are, dressed up for once (yet un-ironed as we don't seem to bother with that anymore, in fact, Peter never did bother ironing, he told me only yesterday I didn't need an ironing board when I had a table to iron on). We decided to see the Mass, standing room only at the Mass and to be honest, thank god (no pun intended), after 30 mins I was a little bored of it. You think the priest would be a bit more engaging, but alas, alas he read from the bible without looking up, without emotion. Although top trumps gained by the waving of the incense, very cool and Gothic (well for me a non Catholic anyway). 30 mins passed and we hot-footed it outside to where all the men where (strange that the church full of women - maybe they j...