Suspended on a wooden floor in the upper chamber of a sailless windmill, wind swaddled the tower in a sinewy vortex.
We’re on the first high point inland from Praia Guincho, one of Europe’s wildest surf beaches. The wind is awe inspiring.
Our walls are at least two feet thick, the tower shaped like a squat pepper grinder. No sense of danger. Outside, though, the palms and pines are strafed and raked, their fronds and needles shriek.