Many who visit Guarda, a city close to the Portuguese-Spanish border, will come away impressed by its history as one of many cities and small towns in Beira Alta which harboured Jewish communities for centuries and also, sadly, persecuted them when the Spanish Inquisition eventually crossed the border.
They might also be impressed by its Gothic, Manueline, and Renaissance architecture, elements of which can all be found
in the cathedral
which hulks above the
old city’s warren of narrow streets
Or perhaps they would be drawn to the ruins which signal the city’s economic history of the 20th century
or find themselves entranced by small wonders such as this dragon or phoenix-like lantern-holder
or impressed by the thickness of its historic walls, curious about the labour that erected them.
They might drive away regretting the limited luggage space that prevented them from carrying home such pretties as these soaps daintily packaged and artfully displayed in a window . . I admit I’m re-thinking my whole carry-on approach, strictly on the basis of these lovelies. . .
But very few will be so puerile as to leave this honourable old city laughing their, let’s be polite and say heads, off at this menu (where we in fact enjoyed a very filling and tasty lunch) whose English translation was represented as follows
Do look closely at the second item from the bottom of the non-fish meats, above. I compared it to the French translation to realize that the pointed element in question is not, thank goodness, what had us in convulsions, but rather was an attempt to signal a brochette. So no matter how often you may have thought a certain prick in your circle deserved to be laid on the coals, that doesn’t really happen here. But the anxieties surrounding certain body parts certainly sharpens the effect of the humour here, and my man can still summon tears today if I remind him what was on the ementa at Guarda.
Now tell me, did this live up to its billing as funniest mis-translation ever? Or can you top me? And by the way, this might be a good time to mention that I do read and appreciate all of your comments as they’re forwarded to my e-mail. I’m trying to limit internet time here in deference to what’s materially present, rather than virtually, so I’m not always answering comments as I usually do. But I’m very pleased to see them — thank you!
Oh, I concede the match right here and now:). And am charmed, completely, by the lantern holder too.
I so enjoyed these pictures of the architecture, and amazing details.
And that menu! (snort!) Reminds me of an old joke with the punch line, "what part of the dog did YOU get?" But what I really want to know is what are "streaky rashes"? Sounds like a condition better avoided!
Lisa: I especially love the association of the phoenix with the lamp being lit and extinguished and re-lit and . . .
Pseu: I think of the streaky bacon the Two Fat Ladies (and their Motorcycle — did you ever watch that British cooking show?) recommended larding everything with — and, of course, "rashers of bacon"– somehow these got confused, I'm guessing, into a thoroughly unappetizing offering!
It is great when they get the translation wrong, I enjoyed the fact that it was quite an expensive dish and rue that we do not live closer so Emin can't get grilled too!
Mater, thanks for these, they are as close to Portugal as I'm ever going to get! You look fantastic, and quite slender, even more so lately. Enjoy!
I may have seen the same thing in Gaurda; or maybe I am thinking of something else. IT is just the kind of thing we love to laugh about (and G loves to photograph).
All your photos make me long for another trip to Portugal.