I lived the life of a hermit till I left Portugal for Switzerland. A message arrived from a journalist through my lawyer to go underground ...
I lived the life of a hermit till I left Portugal for Switzerland. A message arrived from a journalist through my lawyer to go underground as I was in danger.
In spite of being emotionally crushed, I tried to keep myself occupied. Being alone was a gift. I was not responsible for anyone else. I only had to take care of myself. It was a relief.
I lived in the village of Paderneira, two kilometres from Nazare on the Atlantic coast. I did not speak Portuguese but I managed to survive. Unfortunately, no one in the village spoke English. I had bought an English-Portuguese dictionary to take care of the basic communication involved in buying eggs and bread at the local shop.
The owner of my hut rented rooms for tourists. When he had English-speaking guests, he would call upon me to translate. Not that I spoke good Portuguese. It was only with the help of my dictionary that I was able to communicate. I was known as Senora Englesa in the village.
