Portugal’s Exit-First Courtesy Saved My Crowded Crossing

On the morning the banners changed, I was already facing the right way. At my keep’s crowded eastern crossing, I held the cart back until the last rider had cleared the gate, a small Portuguese courtesy that kept three horses from bunching nose to tail, and mine was breathing hard enough already.

The impatient lords wanted their wagons through first, naturally, but an exit is a road too, and blocking it turns courtesy into mud. I have learned to let a departing traveler pass before I claim the space, whether the traveler carries a sealed chest or only a wet cloak.

Try it at your next crossing, and watch the traffic settle without a shouted order, like a tired mount finding its stride after water. I still tap a coin, click, click, before trusting a clear path, unless the road has been freshly turned.