Good Boy

This chilled out hound lives in Faro, Portugal. He pretty much ignored me as I took this shot. So I inched a little closer. An inch too close, as it turned out. The hound saw me off. From cuddly pup to killer in a flash. With a telling flash of his fangs. He is indeed a good boy. He did his job. And I still had my photo, so all is well. The dog is mans best friend for a whole bunch of reasons. Security is just one of them.

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It transpired that it was quicker and cheaper to get home via Faro than by returning to Malaga. We like quick and cheap, so that’s what we did. What can I tell you about Faro? It’s small. We toured the main sites in an afternoon, marvelling at the Chapel of Bones and taking a leisurely stroll through the cobbled streets of the old town. The regional museum is not something that one would describe as one the world’s must sees. But it was still a pleasant way to spend a half hour. Mrs P and her mother took a little boat trip out into a nature reserve, which they enjoyed. I preferred to stay warm. Continue reading