We saw the Tower on the waterfront, from the top deck of the Hop-On, Hop-Off bus, and rushed down the steps to alight before it continued it’s tour.
It was warm in the sun, but colder than we had expected. I’d always equated Lisbon with a much warmer climate and was a little disappointed although it was mid-November.
“The Belem Tower!” I exclaimed
“Let’s get closer and take some photos,” Helen said enthusiastically, as we strolled arm in arm across the grass.
“Don’t run, hun,” she added.
“I’m not running!”
I felt her resistance as I attempted to quicken her pace in harmony with mine.
There was a lovely wooden bridge leading to the Tower Gates and a few steps leading to the water’s edge just below. I’d get a much better perspective of the bridge and the tower from there, I thought, and started to make my way.
Helen saw where I was headed.
“Be careful,” she shouted as we separated.
There were a few shallow steps and then the ground was greenish.
‘I’d better be caref …’ I thought but I was already on the way down, feet in front, as my backside headed rapidly towards the solid stone.
I tried to stifle my exclamation, as my coccyx arrived heavily on the wet green moss, and my whole body slipped forward several centimetres. My right elbow instinctively tried it’s best to cushion the fall. The end result was a strange mix of comic and tragic.
I bravely emitted a half laugh but couldn’t spontaneously find anything appropriate to say and just sat there trying to look as if it had been the plan all along. (I wished)
Helen had seen my acrobatics and was there by the time I’d got my breath back.
“I told you …”
“Of course you did” I gritted my teeth. Why was it that each time she emitted a warning, strange things occurred? Sometimes it felt like a jinx.
I got to my feet, making sure that I didn’t make both of us fall, and we made our way slowly to the wooden bridge.
I tried to cover up an awkward silence, “This could be our Love Castle, you know; that Chick Corea song.”
She looked at me, then laughed, “except it’s from the ‘Spanish Heart’ disc.”
“Well we could always imagine a Romeo and Juliet scene from the balcony.”
“Yes, but Verona is in Italy and I’d be too afraid of you falling!” she giggled.
Still giggling she took me in her arms and kissed me softly on the cheek while placing her hand on the small of my back.
“Uh huh,” I replied, sheepishly, and added “I’ll live to fall another day.”
Helen didn’t reply, but I was sure that she’d already calculated the odds.
This is Tuneful Thursday #2 where I take a break from my weekly challenges and take inspiration from a tune that I’m fond of, to tell a tale.