The Ghost of Mação

It was an early autumn morning in 2004. An old lady was walking through the cobble-stoned street, near her home in Mação. As was usual for the place and time, the road was silent and deserted. It was then that she came face to face with the ghost.

The ghost was very dark and wore a white tunic and was walking towards her. Then it spoke. She ran inside her house slamming the door behind. The petrified lady later told the mayor of the town that the ghost tried to follow her inside and in fact knocked at her door.

Mação...

Ten o’clock in the morning. The sun shines a bright yellow, The air is a strange mixture of warmth and chill. The cobblestone streets cut neatly through the white and yellow houses. The church bell rings out the time. Then there is only the sound of my footsteps…

This is Mação, a little town in the heart of Portugal; nested among the hillocks and in the valley of Tejo. From the nearest hill, Macao is a cluster of bright red rooftops, set in the green and yellow landscape. Autumn is slowly giving way to winter. When you are alone in the street you think you are walking inside a painting.