It was the first day of my trip to Portugal. We took a traditional winding street by a beach in Cascais. It was a maze of up and down and all arounds. My sister and I didn't know where to look. Everywhere there were fruit and vegetable stands. And clothes hanging from windows to dry. All things looked so perfect, like they were meant for it. There were people walked through the winded paths, like we were. Suddenly my sister disturbed our moment. She whined "I'm hungry," I wasn't very pleased I wanted to look at the architecture and the perfectness, "You should've ate breakfast!" (102)
So we trudged along the bumpy path. Left then right then left again. Would we ever find our way back? We walked under the flying clothes, adding a different color to the sky, and past the stands selling goods you would only find in Europe. To be honest I was sort of thirsty, too. So I helped look around. Finally we found a café near a park. The colors were brilliant. You could find every color of the rainbow plus more on just one block. The pinks and blues of the houses were so different from Birmingham. I liked it. My family sat down without even looking at the table. My mom asked us "Do you guys want to pick out some ice cream?" She didn't have to remind my sister. We jumped up and chose. We both got a chocolate chip cookie-dough cup. Yum! (141)
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