Journey to Portugal by José Saramago

The traveller has a long way still to travel: if he can, he will go down to the beaches; if he can, he will have a swim. And he succeeded in doing so in Monte Gordo, in Armacão de Pêra and in Senhora da Rocha, in Olhos de Agua and in Ponta Joao de Arães. Reading this list makes it sound as if it became a way of life , but each time was barely more than a quick dip, hardly enough time to get wet. And he deserved his reward, as on these beaches he is the palest person to be seen.

There is one person paler than him, however, and that is someone who will never travel again. As the traveller was climbing up to the church in São Lourengo de Almansil, he could see groups of men in black standing chatting in the atrium and the street next to the church. Then he saw the women, all sitting on benches outside the church waiting for the Funeral Mass to start. A sign on the door said in three languages: "To visit the church, call next door". The traveller is a specialist in this kind of thing by now, but does not need to put his skills to the test on this occasion, because the church door is already open. The person they are opened for is inside, in his coffin. The traveller did not bother to find out whether it was a man or a woman, he was not really interested. There are wreaths, the priest has not yet arrived, the women are sitting there whispering to each other. What should the traveller do?