This morning Landlady appeared well, early. When I answered the door she demanded to know why I wasn't wearing any shoes. The fact that I was in my dressing gown and brushing my teeth would have been a giveaway for some people...
Anyhoo, so began a whirlwind adventure of a day.
At some point I asked if 'orla' meant edge here (I didn't even start on flaaaange). It doesn't; Landlady said it might mean something in Lisbon, but not here.
It struck me how uncurious people are about words here. One night I was out for dinner and when the waiter brought over the pepper mill I asked him what it was called in portuguese. He had no idea.
How does that work? How do you spend your days in a room with objects and not have words for them. Even makey-uppy words, like 'the wooden pepper thingeydoobewhatzit'.