Stone

My home for the past week, in Guimaraes, lies within a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Not because Gerry Hill slept here, I don't think.

And not because two packs of school children on some kind of school trip have clustered nearby and stared at me in the last few minutes. 

I saw the school children yesterday too, different ones, playing a ball game in the middle of the Placa de Santiago, the medieval centre of the city.  On the old stones, the ball bounced like crazy.  Also on the Placa: high-fashion shoppers, smokers in the doorways of cafes, city workers, university students, local residents out for a stroll, etc.--in short, everybody.

We're all within stone here in this old city.