Even though I’ve been privileged to be able to listen to Cruel Love by Venus Aphrodite from its inception to full blown release it still gives me the shivers, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling, quivering with the first plaintive notes of VA’s voice.

The cover image with its echoes of The Birth of Venus is wonderful and comes with its own story of creation that involves a trip from Brazil to Portugal, the scattering of ashes and the visions of a beautiful mystic. That tale is best told by Venus herself!

I’ve only been to Portugal once and that was by train. Well to be truthful, boat and train. The boat from the UK to France and then the train all the way to Porto. That was many years ago. Almost forty years ago and yet I remember it like yesterday. Not for the seasickness or the railway line migraine but for the sheer magic of being there and the people.

There must be some bad people in Portugal but I didn’t meet any. Even the would be mugger finished up buying me a coffee. That’s a story in itself.

Us British have had a friendly relationship with Portugal for a long, long time. It dates back to the Middle Ages when England aided Portugal in the Reconquista. In fact Portugal and the UK have the oldest alliance between two countries in the world signed in 1337 and still in force to this day!

I love the coastal regions between Porto and Lisbon and to the North of Porto between the Douro and the Minho, the Costa Verde.

I intended to write about my time in Portugal but for the time being I’m keeping it in my head. I like it in there. If you’ve not been then consider going. It’s been too long since I was there. My ‘it feels like only yesterday’ memories need urgently updating as suddenly it feels a long time ago.

I’m listening to Venus again. Chills are multiplying up and down my spine and I’m Gilbert of Hastings, John O Gaunt, Catherine of Braganza and Eusebio.

evening shadows
we share a glass of Port
by the riverside