“Yes, the cheese!” the dwarf says. I ask where to find the best.
A small town about two hours that way, they say. The lanky boy points up the mountain.
I ask what they do: “We are studying,” the leader says.
“Well you are not exactly studying,” the dwarf quips.
“Working.” The leader changes his story, “I’m in advertising,” he says.
He dispatches letters,” the dwarf says. “He goes to different buildings and leaves advertising notes behind.
The next morning, Jane and I leave Covilhã and drive through a thick fog up into the mountains. We pass a closed ski-resort, and later along steep grades, we see a number of pinnacled rocks through the soupy fog.
Little happens in this range except for shepherding. Many of the shepherd huts are made of stone and thatch. Our goal is the small settlement the boys mentioned. It lies in a wet, green valley deep in the mountains, and is known for only one thing: Queijo Serra da Estrela. One of the world’s most famous cheeses, serra cheese is also Portugal’s most renowned.
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