It seems to have been raining buckets all night; the street is a river and the area of fake grass below our apartment appears to have morphed into a green swimming pool. However, it manages to stop raining, though it’s incredibly dull and humid, and a glimpse of the sun tempts us out. We taper our plan to visit St Catarina, however, as the mountains are covered in cloud and we can see sheets of rain needles spearing the hillsides. We confine ourselves to wandering around the deserted streets of Moncarapacho…

 – a pleasant little town with a few cafés, a free internet zone, a house in primary yellow …

a church…

…some interesting stone work…

 and a museum that appears to be closed though the opening hours on the plaque outside would indicate otherwise…

Anyone we do meet stares at us as if we are objects of extreme curiosity, apart from one lady who stares at us, smiles and says Boa Tarde (Good afternoon).