As a special treat, here's the pastelaria van.
This van is often seen going from snack bar to snack bar around the neighbourhood, delivering fresh pastries and breads. Scrummy.
But once upon a time I had a visitor; let's call them The One Who Sees Conspiracies Everywhere. I got up in the morning to find them staring out of the kitchen window, checking up and down the road. They'd seen something very strange. A van had pulled up about 7am, queer-like. A man had got out and crossed over to the place across the road. He was carrying something. The other man waited in the van. He was smoking. It was probably a drugs drop-off.
Or a pastry delivery. Cuck-koo!
Two things happened after that:
1) we happened to hear on the radio that there was a massive drug-smuggling ring whose leader lived in Portugal. Which means there is no convincing TOWSCE that the pastelaria van is innocent.
2) every time I see the nefarious pastelaria van I either start laughing, or take a photo, or both. I tried to take this one surreptitiously from my kitchen window, but they noticed me. So the end result is that I'm the one everyone thinks is bat-crazy.