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About Amadora

I’m picturin’ it now—soft music, candles, total chill. Then bam—“The town’s watchin’, Grace!”—Dogville paranoia hits. What if someone walks in? Angry vibes, ugh, privacy’s dead. Once saw this masseuse ad—sketchy alley, red lights. Surprised me, like, who’s goin’ there? Shady erotic-massage joints freak me out.

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Then, outta nowhere, I see this old man selling handmade trinkets. His stuff is legit! I’m talking about wooden carvings and little pottery pieces. I’m drawn in, and we start chatting. He tells me about Tavarede’s history, how it used to be a quiet fishing village. I’m all ears. It’s fascinating!