Gouveia, the 2star town: check your bed linen

The way to Gouveia was easy. It was not exactly dark, the scenery was once again extremely nice, it was not raining and it was nearly full moon. Once again I felt great, having overcome my fears about night-driving. This kind of driving seemed like peanuts compared to night driving in certain places in Greece, for example. And so I connected the iPhone with my cheap plastic speakers, sat back on my seat and pretended I could hear my music, until about an hour and a half later I saw the lights of Gouveia. I felt almost like Henry Fonda in "Easy rider": I was the  Easy driver! But the feeling was short-lived.

Gouveia is, how can I say it? kind of an anti-climax. A two star town. The contemporary equivalent of the town that Lucky Luck would arrive at dusk when looking for the Daltons. It is cut in squares and is pretty straightforward and thankfully flat! And I soon realized that this out-of-schedule town had nothing to do with the rest of the historical towns I had seen or was going to see. This was the real thing. This is where normal Brazilians live. Girls were coming out from their gyms, men were looking at them, families were having together-time  at the local ice cream parlour and a religious event was taking place in the central place.
All seemed normal, but for the nice rooms. The only hotel that could be having one was called Chapéu de sol (Hotel Sunhat). It was plainly ugly, full of meta-modern, yet outdated and unnecessary aluminum decorations ready to fall on the outside and kill somebody, and plastic flowers and neon lights inside.
But the thing is, I may be very tolerant to kitsch, but I am totally intolerant to dirty linen. Bed sheet of different colors, with foreign hair on it, not freshly ironed, are a no-no for me. That much for the "nice rooms", I thought.
After a long discussion, the manager gave up and gave to me around 20-piece of fresh sheets, all of different colors and with holes the size of cigarette butts, to choose from. The sink was clogged with hair of the previous guests, and suddenly all thoughts of glory and freedom and Easy rider abandoned me, and I felt more like The fugitive.
The manager recommended a restaurant just across the street. Pais e filhos, Parents and children. E muito bom!
Family food! I thought. Let's eat my sorrows away!
It turned something in between a local restaurant but without family food and a pizzeria with strange looking, "mussarella" pizzas and no pizzaiolo.
The digestive walk did not unveil much more. Stray dogs and curious people staring the stray tourist, me.
I turned in early. That's life, I thought, and kissed Henry Fonda goodnight.

Highlights of the day: Hmmm, let me think…. Maybe driving there?
Downsides: Bed sheets dirtier than my underwear.

The Postcards

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