![IMG_7801.JPG](https://ipfs.busy.org/ipfs/QmRXCkMsDeiG1ReCojaHtVT375ruNZCHZDiDNF16DYgVaB) ##### Almost 16 years ago, I left my parents place to live on myself for the very first time. It took a while - to say the least - but it seems that I've finally found a place that I can call home. A place that will feed my creative restlessness, need for freedom, peace, nature and fresh air. My first night in my new house was a little rough. The bedroom appeared to be so dusty that I had trouble sleeping. I also had to get used to the church bells ( this town is so small that the church is probably 50 meters away ) and my mattress. I woke up several times and, around 7:25 am, the sound of a barking dog made me realize that I wasn't dreaming. I was actually in my new place. A new chapter in my life has begun. After the dog had woken me up, I dozed off again until I woke up from a loud thumping on and rattling of the front door, accompanied by the loud voice of an old man, who sounded like he had already had alcohol for breakfast. The door was rattling and the voice was clearly calling out to me, but I couldn't make sense of it. The only word I heard was: > Ricardo! <br>Now my name isn't Ricardo and I don't know any Ricardo besides my sister's boyfriend who's in The Netherlands right now. > Quem és? ( Who's that? ) <br>I said, twice in a row. As I didn't get a (clear) answer and was standing there, in my hallway, half asleep, only dressed in boxers and I really didn't feel like opening the door to a stranger, I said: >Deixame dormir, se faz favor! ( Let me sleep, please ) <br>I then walked back to my bed and the knocking stopped. Not long afterwards, I realized it might have been the guy who delivers bread to people's houses in the morning or perhaps a neighbor telling me about that. But, I guess you understand why I didn't open the door. I wasn't able to sleep anymore and kept trying to make sense of this situation. I decided it was about the bread indeed. And - two hours later - while drinking coffee at a cafe/ restaurant ( the only place in town ), where I told the owners my story, I found out that the rumor had already spread. It was indeed the neighbor telling me about the bread guy. Most of the people understood my reaction, though. Being new in town and all. Not opening my door to strangers. They also seemed to think I work nights ( being a creative with a laptop and all), so they concluded that it must have been early for me. Then, after my first coffee, the neighbor - aka the door-knocker - entered the cafe. I talked with him for a bit. He seemed almost angry with me and didn't understand why I hadn't opened the door to him. A woman, who had been talking with me before, explained the situation to him. I kind of expected an apology but didn't receive any. Not that it mattered, I hadn't opened the door to him, right? Which could be seen as rude so perhaps he wanted me to apologize. I didn't. We shook hands and I drank another coffee, happy to know that the sitation had been solved. I explained to the people that - if anyone wants to ask me something - there's no need to knock on my door in the early morning. They can just talk to me at the cafe. I will probably be there almost every single day. One day in town and I already made an impression. This is the first of many adventures to come! TO BE CONTINUED P.S. How can you not like the view from by balcony?