“These mountains scare me.†. He repeated the phrase several times, in a very loud tone, to make sure it was heard, not only by the target, but by anyone passing by on the street. A young woman, perhaps twenty years old, surrounded by other young people, on a Sunday walk through the streets of Cascais. My eldest son, who heard it, asked me quietly what monhés are, guessing the insulting intention of the term. The girl spoke to her friends, but her real recipients were two or three restaurant employees who, holding menus in their hands, tried to attract customers walking in the streets.
