A sense of extraordinaire surrounded her, as soon as she entered Sintra. The centuries-old castles and mansions were lying humbly upon hills, skillfully hidden by the nature. There she was at the corner coffee shop, full of thoughts and ideas. She wished she could stay longer, but instead she promised herself to do even better: She would come here again. The bill came in a hand-painted ceramic box. She left some money, and right before she closed the box, she felt an urge to check the back of the bill. 'Quinta de Regaleria' was scribbled behind. Her eyes caught the old man's gaze from a further corner back at the cafe. Without hesitation, she swiftly thrust the paper into her pocket, hid her excitement into the wrinkles her hands formed on her clothes. Apparently, there was a place she had to go before she left.
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