Girls in their glittery shoes.

Saturday night in Figueira da Foz. After the chess player had drawn yet another lengthy game, we waited around until our friend Kevin had also drawn an even lengthier game and then went for a couple of beers. As we left the casino we saw the streets were full of young people. Well, relatively full. If this were Manchester you would wonder why there was still room to walk along so freely and how it was that you could still find somewhere to sit and talk. But compared with other evenings, even Friday evening, the place was heaving. 

Of course, it might also have been heaving late on Friday evening but we had headed back to the hotel at an earlier time, around 9.30 and it's quite likely that the beautiful young things didn't come out until later. But where had they all come from? Our best guess was that the majority of them were university students, probably resident in Coimbra, the nearest big university town and, incidentally, once capital of Portugal, during the week. Like many university students all over the world, they tend to come home for the weekend so that Mum can do their washing, feed them well and send them back on Monday laden with clean clothes and provisions for the week. 

The young men, apart from the odd over the top hairdo, were dressed much as young men always do. I imagine they wore clean clothes but they did not appear to have made any special effort. Ah, but the girls! Well, they made up for it, as you might expect. Girls have to dress up, after all. Lots of short skirts in a variety of colours. 

Most remarkable, though, were the shoes. Such a range was quite revelation. Most came with platforms - two or three centimetres high was usual. And, oh, those killer heels!!! If you take into account the platforms, then the heels are probably not all that high but with the platforms they look like stilts. And some of them were truly impressive. Even more impressive was their ability to walk in such footwear on the white cobbles of the Figueira pavements, especially as they were just a little slick with the light rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. 

The prize goes to the girl with the white shoes. Tall and slim, she was showing off her long legs, made to appear even longer by her heels that must have been about five inches high, spiky stilettos that she balanced on surprisingly well. The platforms were a good inch high as well. Now, these shoes were white and sparkly, possibly with some sort of diamanté coating. Not ideal for a late November evening. Goodness knows how much such footwear costs but I suspect that shoes like that don't come cheap. And she wore them as if she were in the catwalk. Such a lot of effort but she spent part of the evening sitting on a doorstep opposite the bar, talking to her friends. I have to say that I was impressed, in a way! 

The legs may have been on display but in general I would say that the Portuguese girls seem to be more sensible than their Manchester counterparts. None of the legs were bare and everyone had a jacket of some sort. There were no bare arms and shoulders on display, possible because a good deal of the socialising took place in the street. I suppose they may have gone on to a disco later. And maybe Portuguese discos still have cloakrooms, which I understand have disappears from English clubs, explaining the lack of coats and jackets among the lovelies who go there. 

 And that's the end of Figueira da Foz for this year. Maybe we'll return next year. For now we are back in Vigo. All good!