Things Are Different Here

Coffee is a bit of an obsession in Vancouver, but it is nothing compared to here. I saw a few Starbucks in Germany, but now that I am in Portugal, I have yet to see one, although, I have seen coffee shops. Coffee and the pastries that accompany it seem to hold a very important position here. Every afternoon at about 1pm everyone leaves their jobs and goes in search of family, friends and coffee. And they find them. And they sit and talk, connect eat and drink. It may just be coincidence, because I have not seen a lot of the country, but here it seems that who visits which shop depends on where their relatives work. And here I am a tea drinker.

Central heating. Lets make some noise for that convenience. I will never take for granted the ability to turn up the thermostat. The first two days I was here were sunny and beautiful, that all ended last night. A storm steamrolled over the sun and replaced it with grey skies, clouds and thunder. The temperature in the house I am in went from snug to frosty. This morning I searched through the house for heaters to plug in. Everyone who is thinking of visiting me should wait until the spring hits. Cold undies in the AM are not fun.

Dogs here seem to have free run of the town. There seem to be no leash laws and the no dogs allowed signs are reserved for fearful tourist. I am the only person who has here their dog on a leash. When we walk out of our courtyard the dog from up the street runs down to greet us. Then as we head down to the seawall the neighbour dog follows us for a while and turns back home when he loses interest in us. During our walks we are approached by many free roaming pooches, who come up to Kootenay and sniff about us as if to commiserate with her about her lack of freedom. But, honestly she is not the most obedient of dogs. And the sea and beach here would test us too much. I am not ready to be the crazy foreign woman who had to pull off her shoes and run up and down the cold surf trying to get her dog to come back home with her.

Grass. Grass is in short supply here. This is not the west coast, with its ample rain and green grass. There are lovely winding cobblestone roads with little sidewalks. Each street seems to have it’s own bit of “old world” charm. Little stores dot the streets, each with it’s own specialty. There are places that only sell keys, or knives, tools, cheese or meats. The operator of the wine store down the street also sells rugs, but there are separate entrances and cash registers for each side of the store. All very charming for someone visiting from the land of Wal-Mart and Costco, but for a west coast dog it is confusing. How does one find just the right place to pee without grass? And what does a dog do with out a giant park to tromp about in? Kootenay is finding this very difficult. Sure we walk for miles every day, but she does this without finding that relief that comes with finding the just the right spot of grass. Hopefully the stones will one day seem welcoming or we will have some trouble. I am sure that the nieghbour will catch us using his ivy and explaining our situation in Portuguese is way beyond my vocabulary.