This note is for Jerry and Ken. I have met a man who you would both envy. He’s a semi retired marine engineer. He and his mother have driven down here from England in a big motor home and are living down in the harbour. That is where he keeps his 50 foot retired British Navy boat. He has it out of the water right now and is working on it.
He bumped into me in Modela (supermarket chain). He said sorry. I said no problem and we went on our separate paths. I could tell he wasn’t a local by his clothes. He was wearing royal blue short, an old sweater, white mid-calf sport socks, and beat up runners. No ,one from here would be wearing something that unfashionable.
We met up again in the checkout lineup. That is when it occurred to him that I had answered him in English and that my English did not have a Portuguese accent. Well hello, he said. Where are you from?
I gave him my brief outline. I am here from Canada. Renting a place from a friend in Vancouver. Blah blah blah.
Well have a good day. Hopefully we will run into each other again. He replies as he loads his groceries into bags and heads out to the parking lot.
This was the longest sustained English conversation I have had for a while so I nod and say bye.
I gathered up my groceries and headed out the parking lot to untie the Koot and start to lug our groceries back to the house.
You didn’t bring her from Canada as well did you? I stood up and looked around. There was my English man loading his groceries into a basket on his moped.
I sure did. And I have done it more than once now. I replied and made my way over to his bike. I could tell he wanted to ask me about Kootenay. She is the starter for so many conversations. And this one i will understand.
He plied me with a list of questions… How did she fly? She didn’t fly she’s a dog. Ha Ha. She sat in a crate in a plane that carried us here. Were there problems at the borders? No, despite having done a pile of research, and having the dog micro chipped, inoculated, inspected by the Official Canadian Vet, and all the paperwork to prove these steps have occurred not one person has looked at any of her paperwork. We have flown into Germany twice, Portugal twice and once back to Canada. It is amazing when you think about how we and our luggage are x-rayed, swabbed and wanded down so much that I worry about wearing an underwire bra on flights that no one seems worried about a giant fluffy dog and her enormous crate.
Then he moves onto the fun questions. What kind of dog is that? I have never seen one quite like her. She’s part poodle and part golden retriever I reply.
I have been thinking about getting a dog, he tells me. I was thinking about border collie, but I am worried about it on the boat. Before I get a chance to reply he fills me in on his life. He and his mom are down here. He keeps his boat here and then heads out all over from here. He has been to the Azores. Liked it. Sailed down to the Algarve where is sister lives. Hated it. Too many British he says, and the people in Nazare are nicer. The list goes on… Greece, Turkey, France etc. He wants to head over to Canada and the east coast of the US, but that depends on Mum. I am not sure what he means by that. Is he waiting for her to be well enough or….
His boat is a 50 footer. He bought it from the Royal Navy when it was decommissioned. Now he is researching the history of its’ war years. He keeps his moped on it so that he can explore whatever port he finds himself in. He is semi-retired so he spends six or seven months a year doing this and then heads home for the summer. Sound like a life you could live?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
They may be ugly, but...
Crocs are comfortable. They may be ugly, but they are comfy. I keep hoping they will hurt my feet. If they did I would be able to stop wearing them. I could put them on in the house like slippers and be sure that they didn’t make their way out to streets. But, instead I find myself two blocks from home, and the look on people’s faces tells me that I have bright green, comfy, foam shoes on. In Nazare these shoes stand out. People and, in particular, women dress up. There seems to be no such thing as casual Friday. Even when they are “dressing down” they are fancy folks. My always-practical Birkenstocks and comfy Crocs scream visitor/tourist.
Someone who had travelled to Nazare asked me if I had noticed the unusual number of people on crutches in town. I had noticed it, but had not really given it much thought. Now I have a few theories. First the fancy shoes and cobblestones really don’t mix. If you take high heels, smooth soles and mix in cobblestones it is a recipe for hurt. If you add moisture, navigation becomes a delicate ballet where only the seasoned survive. You are more likely to lose your dignity than maintain it. My rule on rainy days is to wear pants. If you wear a skirt make sure your underwear are clean, because you are likely to be showing them off.
Here people walking the seawall on a Sunday afternoon would look over dressed on Robson Street in Vancouver. Men are wearing dress pants with collared shirts, and if they do dress down with jeans and runner, they have tucked in cotton shirts and gold and silver lame runners. I have not seen a pair of Chucks and 501s anywhere. The women amaze me. They stroll the cobblestone walkways in delicate heels, pointy-toed high heel boots, wearing bedazzled and faux furred jackets and pants. No one seems concerned with comfort. I seem to be the only person who owns Lycra. Unlike in Vancouver, I am the only person wearing Lululemon clothing here. And I am also the only woman wearing comfortable shoes.
The cleaning lady just asked me to move my chair so she could sweep around me. I could tell she was coming up behind me by the clacking of her heeled mules on the stone floor.
Someone who had travelled to Nazare asked me if I had noticed the unusual number of people on crutches in town. I had noticed it, but had not really given it much thought. Now I have a few theories. First the fancy shoes and cobblestones really don’t mix. If you take high heels, smooth soles and mix in cobblestones it is a recipe for hurt. If you add moisture, navigation becomes a delicate ballet where only the seasoned survive. You are more likely to lose your dignity than maintain it. My rule on rainy days is to wear pants. If you wear a skirt make sure your underwear are clean, because you are likely to be showing them off.
Here people walking the seawall on a Sunday afternoon would look over dressed on Robson Street in Vancouver. Men are wearing dress pants with collared shirts, and if they do dress down with jeans and runner, they have tucked in cotton shirts and gold and silver lame runners. I have not seen a pair of Chucks and 501s anywhere. The women amaze me. They stroll the cobblestone walkways in delicate heels, pointy-toed high heel boots, wearing bedazzled and faux furred jackets and pants. No one seems concerned with comfort. I seem to be the only person who owns Lycra. Unlike in Vancouver, I am the only person wearing Lululemon clothing here. And I am also the only woman wearing comfortable shoes.
The cleaning lady just asked me to move my chair so she could sweep around me. I could tell she was coming up behind me by the clacking of her heeled mules on the stone floor.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Dalmatian Dad
Your dog is very self-sufficient he said to me today. He has a beautiful Dalmatian that dearly wants to play with Kootenay. I was totally shocked. He spoke to me in perfect English. There was a pause in our conversation while my mind processed the fact that I understood him. Usually I smile nod my head and say fala English while pointing at my self.
She just really loves her ball I end up stuttering out in rely.
No. Even when you don’t have the ball she is just as happy following you down the beach with her nose to the sand. My dog is desperate for another dog to play with him. It is the only time he gets any real exercise. Replies the man who will from now forward be known as Dalmatian Dad.
She is easy to exercise. I reply. Just throw a ball and wait. She brings it back and demands that you do it again. The only drawback is the slobber stains on my shoes. I can’t figure out why I can’t come with something else to say. I seem to have lost any ability to engage in small talk. Have I been out of normal life for too long? I have really enjoyed my days of walking on the beach, reading and even fitting in a little writing. But, could this have all lead to me becoming, gasp, even more socially awkward. And, why is he walking away.
Bye I call out. What I really want to do is scream. She really only plays with dogs she knows. If Dalmatian wants to get to know her she will be happy to run in the waves with him. Then I wonder…. Is this really about K?
She just really loves her ball I end up stuttering out in rely.
No. Even when you don’t have the ball she is just as happy following you down the beach with her nose to the sand. My dog is desperate for another dog to play with him. It is the only time he gets any real exercise. Replies the man who will from now forward be known as Dalmatian Dad.
She is easy to exercise. I reply. Just throw a ball and wait. She brings it back and demands that you do it again. The only drawback is the slobber stains on my shoes. I can’t figure out why I can’t come with something else to say. I seem to have lost any ability to engage in small talk. Have I been out of normal life for too long? I have really enjoyed my days of walking on the beach, reading and even fitting in a little writing. But, could this have all lead to me becoming, gasp, even more socially awkward. And, why is he walking away.
Bye I call out. What I really want to do is scream. She really only plays with dogs she knows. If Dalmatian wants to get to know her she will be happy to run in the waves with him. Then I wonder…. Is this really about K?
Friday, January 25, 2008
Breaking Up is Hard to Do
I think my boyfriend and I broke up today. Guess I should tell you a little bit about him. Kootenay and I met him on the beach. We stand out in Nazare. People here don’t often play with their dogs. The dogs run around and then check back at their owners a few times during the day. Add the fact that I “play” with my dog and I walk around with her on leash and we stand out….
People along the seawall have become intrigued with my ball chucker.
He came up and tried to ask about it. He wanted to try it. So we stood there and “chatted”. What I mean by chatting is that we exchanged the few words I know in Portuguese and the few that he knew in English, and then we smiled and watched Kootenay run up and down the beach.
We ran into each other at the community center the next day. He started walking me home and then I would get K and we would all trek to the beach for some dog exercise time. It was nice.
But, tonight some young hussy came and took him away. He looked at me gave me a little smile and shrugged his shoulders as he left with her. I guess that is what happens when your boyfriend is 12 and he is more interested in your dog than you.
People along the seawall have become intrigued with my ball chucker.
He came up and tried to ask about it. He wanted to try it. So we stood there and “chatted”. What I mean by chatting is that we exchanged the few words I know in Portuguese and the few that he knew in English, and then we smiled and watched Kootenay run up and down the beach.
We ran into each other at the community center the next day. He started walking me home and then I would get K and we would all trek to the beach for some dog exercise time. It was nice.
But, tonight some young hussy came and took him away. He looked at me gave me a little smile and shrugged his shoulders as he left with her. I guess that is what happens when your boyfriend is 12 and he is more interested in your dog than you.
Have I Become James?
I am sitting at a small table in the Community Center / Library using there free internet. I have become a regular. It feels a little weird, because it reminds me of home. I have become the weird foreigner that comes in everyday to use the internet. We had a few at work back in Vancouver. And to top it off I don’t even speak the same language, so no one has a clue who I am or why I am here. So people here are free to make up my back-story. Hopefully it is more interesting than the truth. I am sitting here looking at People magazine on line and ichatting with my sister. But I can hear the waves hitting the shore and if I angle my computer just right I can see them as well.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Post Feminist World?
I miss my MVS, and Matt, and George… They could always be counted on to challenge me and help me hone my opinions. Matt, MVS and I worked together and spent many slow afternoons debating the state of the world. Seems crazy to miss those days when I am sitting with my dog in the sun’s warmth on a beach in a foreign country, but I do. There is no one here with enough English skills to talk to about my most recent rant.
I watched Blood Diamond and thought it was a good film. Then, because I hear so little English, and because it was a DVD and had a directors commentary on it, I watched the show again. The director impressed me at first. He talked about how filming and being in Africa deeply affected him, the crew and the stars.
Then as he was describing a scene that introduced the love interest for the main character he talked about her being a reporter in a post feminist world. He talked about female war reporters who dressed in dresses despite their surroundings and who had relationships with “inappropriate” men and used these as examples of this post feminist world. He seemed to find it odd that despite the circumstances the reporter didn’t want to lose her femininity. It was as if in his mind one must chose between feminism and femininity.
That is when I started to look at the movie a bit differently. At first it was just a buddy movie that turned conventions a little. I was happy that a movie would try to challenge the narrow view of life that Hollywood often brings us.
One point in this movie even moved outside the regular Hollywood path. The female character stepped outside the role of victim and managed to thwart a militia attack. But even this moment was cheapened when a soldier was required to say a line about her reminding him of his wife. In the director’s commentary you find out that she was originally supposed to cling to Leo the antihero, but came up with this idea instead.
The other thing that amazed me about this movie was the implied guilt meted out for women who have, or want a diamond ring. Again the lone female character is forced to defend all women while separating herself from them by declaring that “Not all women want a diamond ring” and “women wouldn’t want a diamond if the new it cost someone their arm”. It turns out that when men treat each other inhumanely, enslave each other to amass vast wealth, and rape and plunder nations it is because of outside pressures….
Okay, it was not that simple an analogy, but it feels that way today.
Where are you guys when I need to talk to you????
I watched Blood Diamond and thought it was a good film. Then, because I hear so little English, and because it was a DVD and had a directors commentary on it, I watched the show again. The director impressed me at first. He talked about how filming and being in Africa deeply affected him, the crew and the stars.
Then as he was describing a scene that introduced the love interest for the main character he talked about her being a reporter in a post feminist world. He talked about female war reporters who dressed in dresses despite their surroundings and who had relationships with “inappropriate” men and used these as examples of this post feminist world. He seemed to find it odd that despite the circumstances the reporter didn’t want to lose her femininity. It was as if in his mind one must chose between feminism and femininity.
That is when I started to look at the movie a bit differently. At first it was just a buddy movie that turned conventions a little. I was happy that a movie would try to challenge the narrow view of life that Hollywood often brings us.
One point in this movie even moved outside the regular Hollywood path. The female character stepped outside the role of victim and managed to thwart a militia attack. But even this moment was cheapened when a soldier was required to say a line about her reminding him of his wife. In the director’s commentary you find out that she was originally supposed to cling to Leo the antihero, but came up with this idea instead.
The other thing that amazed me about this movie was the implied guilt meted out for women who have, or want a diamond ring. Again the lone female character is forced to defend all women while separating herself from them by declaring that “Not all women want a diamond ring” and “women wouldn’t want a diamond if the new it cost someone their arm”. It turns out that when men treat each other inhumanely, enslave each other to amass vast wealth, and rape and plunder nations it is because of outside pressures….
Okay, it was not that simple an analogy, but it feels that way today.
Where are you guys when I need to talk to you????
Friday, January 18, 2008
Moving...
My dog changed my life. Before she came into my life I lived a nice, quiet, safe life. I had a good job. It was not my passion, but it paid a living wage and had health benefits. I bought a safe fixer up style of apartment in a nice neighbourhoood and fixed it up. I was average and glad of it. While my friends went about marrying, breaking up, and living overseas I was happy to offer them a bed when they needed it and live my quiet life.
Then came Kootenay. Soon after she came into my home the people in my building decided that she was too big to live in our building and offered me a choice. Either I had to get rid of her or move out of the building. This was a difficult time. I had made friends with many of the people in the building and then had to choose between this dog I had just adopted and the security and friendship of the people in the building I had been living in for four years. I chose the dog. It was my first moment of madness. I am not sure I would have been able to make that choice had my sister not been around. She, in her ever practical and capable way, made the choice of moving because of my new dog an easy one. “Of course you’ll move,” she said. As if selling the home I had lived in for four years for a dog I had for only four weeks was the most normal choice in the world.
So with her help and the support of all my family and friends I put my put my house up for sale and planned a future in a new neighbourhood with my new pet.
Luckily I have a friend who knows almost all of Vancouver. Michael introduced me to Tim, who took on selling my place. It was not an easy task. The strata minutes were messy. We, the building residents, had started down a path of unkindness to each other that would be hard to stop. Neighbour picking on neighbour is a difficult thing when you live in such close quarters and like all negative emotions, once you start focusing on the negative it becomes difficult to stop. As sad as I was at losing the friends I had made in the building moving was the right choice. If a dog could cause so many people to be so unhappy it was better to not live there.
So, I sold the place and started looking for a new one. This time I would have a better idea how to read strata minutes and making sure my dog was welcome would be the top concern.
Then came Kootenay. Soon after she came into my home the people in my building decided that she was too big to live in our building and offered me a choice. Either I had to get rid of her or move out of the building. This was a difficult time. I had made friends with many of the people in the building and then had to choose between this dog I had just adopted and the security and friendship of the people in the building I had been living in for four years. I chose the dog. It was my first moment of madness. I am not sure I would have been able to make that choice had my sister not been around. She, in her ever practical and capable way, made the choice of moving because of my new dog an easy one. “Of course you’ll move,” she said. As if selling the home I had lived in for four years for a dog I had for only four weeks was the most normal choice in the world.
So with her help and the support of all my family and friends I put my put my house up for sale and planned a future in a new neighbourhood with my new pet.
Luckily I have a friend who knows almost all of Vancouver. Michael introduced me to Tim, who took on selling my place. It was not an easy task. The strata minutes were messy. We, the building residents, had started down a path of unkindness to each other that would be hard to stop. Neighbour picking on neighbour is a difficult thing when you live in such close quarters and like all negative emotions, once you start focusing on the negative it becomes difficult to stop. As sad as I was at losing the friends I had made in the building moving was the right choice. If a dog could cause so many people to be so unhappy it was better to not live there.
So, I sold the place and started looking for a new one. This time I would have a better idea how to read strata minutes and making sure my dog was welcome would be the top concern.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Beach Time
I cannot imagine anyone or anything being happier than Kootenay is when she in on the beach. Each morning we get up and walk along the seawall walkway here in Nazare. Kootenay walks beside me with her head turned to the beach for the entire two kilometers of the walk. It is almost as if she is afraid it will disappear if she doesn’t keep her eyes on it.
When we are about halfway home I let her off her leash.
When the leash drops off her neck she looks at me to be sure that she is allowed to be free. Then I give her the all clear. She jumps up in the air and twists in a circle. It looks like somebody electrocuted her tail and she is trying to catch them. Then she leaps off the seawall and barrels down the beach towards the water’s edge.
With her nose down and her tail wagging she chases the waves as they stretch up onto the sand as far as they can reach. She is always surprised when they disappear and gallops down to the water’s new edge to find them.
Her other great joy is joining the kids playing soccer on the beach courts. I have had to buy a small fake soccer ball to carry with us when we go near the kids. It comes with us or I will have to once again wade into a scrum made of giggling boys, a dog and soccer ball and try to separate Kootenay from the ball and the boys from the dog.
Two boys always want her to play goalie for them. My Portuguese is not good enough to explain to them that once she gets the ball she will bite onto it and the chase will be on. I have tired pointing to her teeth and pretending to bite the ball, but I guess my charades are only good for ordering food and finding gas to heat the hot water tank. Either that or the boys just want a laugh when I try to act out the whole ball/teeth/chase scenario. To avoid the acting, we bring the doggie soccer ball. And it has a magic squeaker in it. Now when she tries to launch herself into the soccer game I just have to squeeze her soccer ball. When the squeaker goes off she comes running to me.
Today one of the soccer dad’s came over to “talk” with me. Between my dictionary and his little bit of English we came up with a description for Kootenay at the beach. We decided that she is joy personified. And, that you feel that if watch hard enough you can finally figure out what it takes to be truly happy.
We stood there and watched three 11-year-old boys play keep away with a soccer ball and a dog. The sun was shining and the waves were crashing ashore
When we are about halfway home I let her off her leash.
When the leash drops off her neck she looks at me to be sure that she is allowed to be free. Then I give her the all clear. She jumps up in the air and twists in a circle. It looks like somebody electrocuted her tail and she is trying to catch them. Then she leaps off the seawall and barrels down the beach towards the water’s edge.
With her nose down and her tail wagging she chases the waves as they stretch up onto the sand as far as they can reach. She is always surprised when they disappear and gallops down to the water’s new edge to find them.
Her other great joy is joining the kids playing soccer on the beach courts. I have had to buy a small fake soccer ball to carry with us when we go near the kids. It comes with us or I will have to once again wade into a scrum made of giggling boys, a dog and soccer ball and try to separate Kootenay from the ball and the boys from the dog.
Two boys always want her to play goalie for them. My Portuguese is not good enough to explain to them that once she gets the ball she will bite onto it and the chase will be on. I have tired pointing to her teeth and pretending to bite the ball, but I guess my charades are only good for ordering food and finding gas to heat the hot water tank. Either that or the boys just want a laugh when I try to act out the whole ball/teeth/chase scenario. To avoid the acting, we bring the doggie soccer ball. And it has a magic squeaker in it. Now when she tries to launch herself into the soccer game I just have to squeeze her soccer ball. When the squeaker goes off she comes running to me.
Today one of the soccer dad’s came over to “talk” with me. Between my dictionary and his little bit of English we came up with a description for Kootenay at the beach. We decided that she is joy personified. And, that you feel that if watch hard enough you can finally figure out what it takes to be truly happy.
We stood there and watched three 11-year-old boys play keep away with a soccer ball and a dog. The sun was shining and the waves were crashing ashore
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Does Sexy Translate?
North American movie stars engage in endorsements abroad. It is no big secret, but it is surprising when you see the ads. They promote things in other countries that they would never been seen overtly promoting back home. Coffee. Shampoo. Watches. And they sell these things with their “sex appeal.”
George Clooney sells coffee in Europe. In the ad he finds himself amazed as women walk past him to get to a good cuppa and don’t seem to notice him. Brad Pitt was selling watches in China. As we were walking down a street in Chengdu a little girl looked up at a Brad Pitt ad and ran over to stroke my nephew’s hair and point to his blue eyes excitedly. Aiden is only ten and the attention was a little overwhelming. Seeing these ads has made me watch movies a little differently. The next time I see George or Brad in a movie I will be watching to see if these products end up in the movie. Maybe they are advertising stuff back home and we don’t even notice it?
One of my most disconcerting moments with this type of ad occurred in China. Treesa and I watched a grown man in a suit stroke George Clooney’s giant lips. He pressed himself up against a billboard and went up on his toes so that he could stroke a picture of George’s lips. Now don’t get me wrong I understand the desire to touch George’s lips, but if I’m going to do it I hope it is in private. And I hope it doesn’t stop with his lips. But it was bewildering to me that a grown man in what appeared to be an expensive suit, would stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk and take time out to stroke a picture of a “star”. I felt very much a voyeur watching this moment. The other remarkable thing was that my sister and I seemed to be the only people to find the incident peculiar. And like all places in China, there were literally hundreds of people walking by. No one even slowed down.
Tonight a woman at the movie rental store wanted to rent Richard Gere. She brought back a movie that he had starred in pointed to his face and asked the clerk something that my limited Portuguese could not understand. The clerk took her over to the wall and pointed to another Richard Gere title. But, the woman wasn’t happy. She took the box of the movie she had just seen and held it up to the other movie. She pointed to the two faces that were clearly different. In the second movie Richard Gere was playing a role that required him to adopt a character. She didn’t want Richard Gere the actor she wanted Richard Gere. Luckily my immense knowledge of romantic comedies came to the rescue. I pointed out Pretty Woman and Runaway Bride to her and the clerk. The woman happily left with the two movies. The clerk smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders. She watched movies for the movie. I am pretty sure I lost a few coolness points with her for knowing those titles, that and the fact that I went home with a Ryan Reynolds romantic comedy. Oh well. She still in awe that I am from Canada, don’t speak any Portuguese, and have a bonito cachorro.
And now me and my cachorro will go curl up on our sofa and watch our romantic comedy. Hope K feels like snuggling. How’s that for sexy?
George Clooney sells coffee in Europe. In the ad he finds himself amazed as women walk past him to get to a good cuppa and don’t seem to notice him. Brad Pitt was selling watches in China. As we were walking down a street in Chengdu a little girl looked up at a Brad Pitt ad and ran over to stroke my nephew’s hair and point to his blue eyes excitedly. Aiden is only ten and the attention was a little overwhelming. Seeing these ads has made me watch movies a little differently. The next time I see George or Brad in a movie I will be watching to see if these products end up in the movie. Maybe they are advertising stuff back home and we don’t even notice it?
One of my most disconcerting moments with this type of ad occurred in China. Treesa and I watched a grown man in a suit stroke George Clooney’s giant lips. He pressed himself up against a billboard and went up on his toes so that he could stroke a picture of George’s lips. Now don’t get me wrong I understand the desire to touch George’s lips, but if I’m going to do it I hope it is in private. And I hope it doesn’t stop with his lips. But it was bewildering to me that a grown man in what appeared to be an expensive suit, would stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk and take time out to stroke a picture of a “star”. I felt very much a voyeur watching this moment. The other remarkable thing was that my sister and I seemed to be the only people to find the incident peculiar. And like all places in China, there were literally hundreds of people walking by. No one even slowed down.
Tonight a woman at the movie rental store wanted to rent Richard Gere. She brought back a movie that he had starred in pointed to his face and asked the clerk something that my limited Portuguese could not understand. The clerk took her over to the wall and pointed to another Richard Gere title. But, the woman wasn’t happy. She took the box of the movie she had just seen and held it up to the other movie. She pointed to the two faces that were clearly different. In the second movie Richard Gere was playing a role that required him to adopt a character. She didn’t want Richard Gere the actor she wanted Richard Gere. Luckily my immense knowledge of romantic comedies came to the rescue. I pointed out Pretty Woman and Runaway Bride to her and the clerk. The woman happily left with the two movies. The clerk smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders. She watched movies for the movie. I am pretty sure I lost a few coolness points with her for knowing those titles, that and the fact that I went home with a Ryan Reynolds romantic comedy. Oh well. She still in awe that I am from Canada, don’t speak any Portuguese, and have a bonito cachorro.
And now me and my cachorro will go curl up on our sofa and watch our romantic comedy. Hope K feels like snuggling. How’s that for sexy?
Monday, November 19, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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.
How Did I Get Here
I am trying to figure out what I am doing here. I was not raised to live an unstructured life. I was raised to get a job, hopefully with good benefits and hold onto it. To go to work everyday doing what I’m told and work until I retire. I’m not exactly sure when I stopped believing in anything else. Maybe I thought that, given the miracle or good luck that had me live through my teenage cancer battle that that was my miracle and to hope for more would be greedy.
When I told my dad that I wanted to travel to Europe with my dog and try and write the storey of my cancer battle he responded by telling me that artist suffer. They get jobs as waitresses or taxi drivers and write. And if they are lucky they produce something other people want to read. I am not sure that was meant to encourage or discourage me.
Of course I heard it as a subtle condemnation of this. I constantly question my decisions and this is no different. Today I had to remind myself that this was only my second day here so trying to measure my accomplishments was premature. That deciding I had failed already, was a trifle self-defeating.
It is not surprising that people live so much of their lives in cafes here. With no central heating it is cold in the houses. Last night I was ready to leave. Then I got up, had some breakfast and Kootenay and walked along the sea edge. We watched the giant waves crash onto the shore and then sat on a bench and watched all of the town walk by us. Families, friends and lovers walked up and down the seawall meeting and greeting each other. If you watched this in a movie it would seem false and scripted.
The women here wear what is called the seven petticoat dress with black wraps that also wrap their heads. Many people mention this and question why they still dress this way. The fishing wife life seems to have been chased away from this village by the Mercedes, Alfas, and Peugeuts that crawl the streets now. I can only say that given the temperature of the stone houses the older people live in I can why. While not stylish the outfit looks like it would keep you warm.
Kootenay is adjusting to having a daily routine, I think she enjoys the fact that we have unpacked. Although, I think she liked the people in Lisbon better than here. In Lisbon people stopped us to pat her and treated her like a movie star. Often people stop and talk to us and while we didn’t understand it all, inevitabily the sentence would include the phrase “Never Ending Story”. And then everyone would smile. She looks like the dog at the end of the movie. Here people are more hesitant, and often shy away from us. After being a star in Germany and Lisbon, Kootenay is finding it odd. Rather than fawning she is treated with a mixture of awe and reserve.
When I told my dad that I wanted to travel to Europe with my dog and try and write the storey of my cancer battle he responded by telling me that artist suffer. They get jobs as waitresses or taxi drivers and write. And if they are lucky they produce something other people want to read. I am not sure that was meant to encourage or discourage me.
Of course I heard it as a subtle condemnation of this. I constantly question my decisions and this is no different. Today I had to remind myself that this was only my second day here so trying to measure my accomplishments was premature. That deciding I had failed already, was a trifle self-defeating.
It is not surprising that people live so much of their lives in cafes here. With no central heating it is cold in the houses. Last night I was ready to leave. Then I got up, had some breakfast and Kootenay and walked along the sea edge. We watched the giant waves crash onto the shore and then sat on a bench and watched all of the town walk by us. Families, friends and lovers walked up and down the seawall meeting and greeting each other. If you watched this in a movie it would seem false and scripted.
The women here wear what is called the seven petticoat dress with black wraps that also wrap their heads. Many people mention this and question why they still dress this way. The fishing wife life seems to have been chased away from this village by the Mercedes, Alfas, and Peugeuts that crawl the streets now. I can only say that given the temperature of the stone houses the older people live in I can why. While not stylish the outfit looks like it would keep you warm.
Kootenay is adjusting to having a daily routine, I think she enjoys the fact that we have unpacked. Although, I think she liked the people in Lisbon better than here. In Lisbon people stopped us to pat her and treated her like a movie star. Often people stop and talk to us and while we didn’t understand it all, inevitabily the sentence would include the phrase “Never Ending Story”. And then everyone would smile. She looks like the dog at the end of the movie. Here people are more hesitant, and often shy away from us. After being a star in Germany and Lisbon, Kootenay is finding it odd. Rather than fawning she is treated with a mixture of awe and reserve.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Strolling Lisbon
After having a little pity party I managed to organize a ride to Nazare tomorrow. Lufthansa makes me crazy. It is soooooo difficult to get around now that I am the owner of an expensive new crate that is as big as a Volkswagen bug. Every time I think about it I get mad. But, in the interest of sanity I must let go of it and trust that everyone who reads this will tell people about the story. Did I mention that I have to jump in the air to see over it when I am pushing it thru airports?
In Lisbon Kootenay and I have been staying at Residencial Florescente. Kootenay is sleeping out on the balcony now. Occasionally she stands up and surveys the street below wags her tail and lies back down. The Fado singer from the concert hall across the street comes out and sings her a song in the morning and a bedtime. At first I thought it was for me, but then we met him on one of our walks and he professed his love to K. At least I think that is what he was saying.
There was a big police bust up down the street this afternoon. We were coming back from walking along the Tejo River and were suddenly in a swarm of polica. They had three wagons and started filling them with people from the street corner and a housing complex. It was all very dramatic. This is when a better understanding of the language would have come in handy. The officer was yelling and waving at me, but I had not a clue what he wanted me to do. Luckily a little old man took pity on me and led me away down an alley. He talked to Kootenay in Portuguese as he led us down the block. I’m not sure what he was saying, but he was happy with Kootenay’s response so I just smiled and nodded.
Smiling and nodding has become my main action. People stop us pet K and tell me all sorts of things sometimes they even pull out pictures of their dogs to share with me, but mostly they stop to pat K. I think the fact that I don’t understand a word people say makes it easier for them to talk to me.
In Lisbon Kootenay and I have been staying at Residencial Florescente. Kootenay is sleeping out on the balcony now. Occasionally she stands up and surveys the street below wags her tail and lies back down. The Fado singer from the concert hall across the street comes out and sings her a song in the morning and a bedtime. At first I thought it was for me, but then we met him on one of our walks and he professed his love to K. At least I think that is what he was saying.
There was a big police bust up down the street this afternoon. We were coming back from walking along the Tejo River and were suddenly in a swarm of polica. They had three wagons and started filling them with people from the street corner and a housing complex. It was all very dramatic. This is when a better understanding of the language would have come in handy. The officer was yelling and waving at me, but I had not a clue what he wanted me to do. Luckily a little old man took pity on me and led me away down an alley. He talked to Kootenay in Portuguese as he led us down the block. I’m not sure what he was saying, but he was happy with Kootenay’s response so I just smiled and nodded.
Smiling and nodding has become my main action. People stop us pet K and tell me all sorts of things sometimes they even pull out pictures of their dogs to share with me, but mostly they stop to pat K. I think the fact that I don’t understand a word people say makes it easier for them to talk to me.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Big dog
My dog and I both have size issues. People these days seem to want dogs and people to be purse size. We are definitely not purse size, although I do have a weakness for purses. Now that we are travelling our sizes has become an issue. People are very welcoming to small dogs. They look cute and you can put them in your purse and carry them everywhere. Big dogs require a bit more room and a bit more imagination. To have a big dog in your life you have to commit to opening yourself up to their needs. Small dogs can be fit to your life. You can tote them in and out of stores unnoticed, and a five-minute walk can keep them happy. Big dogs can’t be snuck into very many places. Although, I will admit to sneaking her into a few motels, but a great deal of subterfuge was needed. Since Kootenay became part of my life I have had to face the world differently. We no longer go unnoticed by people. When we walk down the street people stop. They say hi; they want to pet her; they want to connect. I never expected this. So here we are travelling and trying to find space for ourselves in another language. We can be persuasive in English, but now we have to get by on our looks and personality.
Today we hit Portugal and had to use all our looks and personality to find a bed for ourselves. Like most people my age we have come to rely on the internet. So in preparation for Lisbon we got on the internet and researched hotels. Who allows pets? What is their policy? All good things to know before you leave. After a great deal of reading we found a place and had our travel agent book it for us and include information about the dog. The motel concept is not strong here, so I wanted to be sure upfront that we would be welcome. They took our deposit along with the pet info yeah!
Imagine my surprise when we get there and they do not accept dogs. Now we are in Lisbon with no place to stay.
Back to the internet. Fatima, the hotel consierge manned the phone and I trolled the internet for places that might take us in. We phoned every place we could find and things looked bleak. I was almost glad for the giant cage the German ground crew forces on us, as I could picture Kootenay and I comfortably sleeping in it. It is almost as big as my apartment back home. Then I pulled out the Rick Steeves guide to Portugal. We would read the guide for hotels that seemed to have personality and then contact would ensue. I would look on the internet for the hotel pet policy and Fatima would phone them. Finally we found a bed. Thank you Residencial Florescente. People on Expeida and Travelocity may complain about the carpets or the smell, but we are happy to put our heads down here. And we actually appreciate the 1800’s character of the building. Our Juliet balcony makes us both very happy
Today we hit Portugal and had to use all our looks and personality to find a bed for ourselves. Like most people my age we have come to rely on the internet. So in preparation for Lisbon we got on the internet and researched hotels. Who allows pets? What is their policy? All good things to know before you leave. After a great deal of reading we found a place and had our travel agent book it for us and include information about the dog. The motel concept is not strong here, so I wanted to be sure upfront that we would be welcome. They took our deposit along with the pet info yeah!
Imagine my surprise when we get there and they do not accept dogs. Now we are in Lisbon with no place to stay.
Back to the internet. Fatima, the hotel consierge manned the phone and I trolled the internet for places that might take us in. We phoned every place we could find and things looked bleak. I was almost glad for the giant cage the German ground crew forces on us, as I could picture Kootenay and I comfortably sleeping in it. It is almost as big as my apartment back home. Then I pulled out the Rick Steeves guide to Portugal. We would read the guide for hotels that seemed to have personality and then contact would ensue. I would look on the internet for the hotel pet policy and Fatima would phone them. Finally we found a bed. Thank you Residencial Florescente. People on Expeida and Travelocity may complain about the carpets or the smell, but we are happy to put our heads down here. And we actually appreciate the 1800’s character of the building. Our Juliet balcony makes us both very happy
Leaving Frankfurt
Frankfurt.
When I started to write this note last night it was going to be a love story. The city was friendly and Kootenay and I walked all over it and enjoyed every minute. Then we flew out and that is where the love affair ended abruptly. When we got to the airport the ground crew refused to transport K in her crate. They claimed it was not big enough, and just so handily happened to have a place there where I could purchase a new crate, at a grossly inflated sum. Only then would they put her on the plane. The only crate they would accept was enormous. So despite the fact that my crate was approved for the size and weight of my dog, and the fact that she had just travelled from Canada in it we had to shell out for the new crate. The crate should have cost about 180 dollars, but they wanted 300 euros. So I am warning all people with pets who plan to travel through Frankfurt DO NOT. The city is great, but it is too costly to be at the whim of the airport ground crew.
When I started to write this note last night it was going to be a love story. The city was friendly and Kootenay and I walked all over it and enjoyed every minute. Then we flew out and that is where the love affair ended abruptly. When we got to the airport the ground crew refused to transport K in her crate. They claimed it was not big enough, and just so handily happened to have a place there where I could purchase a new crate, at a grossly inflated sum. Only then would they put her on the plane. The only crate they would accept was enormous. So despite the fact that my crate was approved for the size and weight of my dog, and the fact that she had just travelled from Canada in it we had to shell out for the new crate. The crate should have cost about 180 dollars, but they wanted 300 euros. So I am warning all people with pets who plan to travel through Frankfurt DO NOT. The city is great, but it is too costly to be at the whim of the airport ground crew.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
day one
Getting on the plane was filled with excitement. When Kootenay and I
got to the airport it turned out that our instructions for getting the
dog to Germany were messed up. She had been booked as cargo, but she
was supposed to go on the plane as checked baggage with me. Luckily
after three or four frantic calls we were able to get her on the
flight with me.
got to the airport it turned out that our instructions for getting the
dog to Germany were messed up. She had been booked as cargo, but she
was supposed to go on the plane as checked baggage with me. Luckily
after three or four frantic calls we were able to get her on the
flight with me.
Thank goodness that dad took me to the airport. And thank goodness
for his cell phone.
Travelling with the dog seems so complicated, but it seems to be
easier that one would think. She is kinda like a roomie who eats your
food, doesn't pay her rent, and thinks her personality and love should
be enough for you to keep her around.
So after 8 hours in the air, we landed in Frankfurt. This was where I
thought we would have the biggest problems. I was concerned with the
papers for the dog, and as her microchip had never been scanned I was
nervous about it working. All the potential problems were playing out
in my mind. Included in my concerns were the difficulties of
travelling in a country where you don't know a word of the country's
language.
These concerns turned out to be for nothing. There she was in special
baggage sitting in her crate waiting for me to claim her. The
security supervisor went in search of a Vet to do her inspection.
While he was searching for the Vet I went and got the rest of my
luggage and came back. The supervisor couldn't find a vet so he took
a cursory look at our papers and send us on our way. It was
disturbingly easy. I guess that it was just to give me a break
because the hard work was just about to start.
Now I had the dog, two heavy suitcases, a carryon bag, and my computer
and camera bag, as well as the dog kennel to get to my hotel. The
first two cabs dismissed me with a sneer. There was an odd man smoking
a cigarette offered to take us in some sort of non-cab cab. We
stuffed all my crap in his Golf and he programmed my hotel into his
navigation system and off we went.
When we got to the hotel he evened helped me take everything up to our
hotel room. Kootenay hung out with the hotel staff, behind their
reception desk during this. So in the end I pay 35 euros for a 10
euro cab ride and was happy with the return on the "dollar".
Especially as it was about 4am by my body clock and I had only slept
fitfully on the plane.
Here we were the first leg of the journey completed.
Now we just need to go for a walk, have a nap and find food. How hard
could that be?
--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Fun Facts
Luftansa Airline November 9th... 10:30 for Koot and 3:15 for me...
Time has come for Kootenay and I to leave the country. We (and by we i mean she) has been shot tagged and inspected until no one could find any reason to deny her access to their country. That isn't entirely true, England would still have problems agreeing to let her in, but who need to leave rain and travel to rain? Not us. Our first stop is Frankfurt Germany. For anyone who is concerned we will be staying at the Best Western Plaza.
I have been shocked by the small amout of information out there about Frankfurt. Frommers guide doesn't even mention it. So Koot and I will be exporing the city for three days with photocopied sheets of city information. Weird that so few people write about it when it has one of the biggest airports in Europe. Apprently there is a grocery store at the airport. That is one way to keep people from exploring the city.
From there we are heading to Lisbon. Here we are hoping to stay at Hotel Mirapaque. It is in the center of town which can be expensive, but apprently if you don't mind staying somewhere with wood paneled lounges and simulated brown leather seating they are happy to have you and your dog. We are going to stay here until the 17th of November. Then we are off to Nazare.
My address in Nazare will be:
Rua Dr Jose Caborinho
Marques Da Silveira
Vila Mafra
10 Andar Dto
Letra C
Nazare
Not sure what the postal code is, but i will keep you posted... (get it? posted? ha ha)
Fr
Time has come for Kootenay and I to leave the country. We (and by we i mean she) has been shot tagged and inspected until no one could find any reason to deny her access to their country. That isn't entirely true, England would still have problems agreeing to let her in, but who need to leave rain and travel to rain? Not us. Our first stop is Frankfurt Germany. For anyone who is concerned we will be staying at the Best Western Plaza.
I have been shocked by the small amout of information out there about Frankfurt. Frommers guide doesn't even mention it. So Koot and I will be exporing the city for three days with photocopied sheets of city information. Weird that so few people write about it when it has one of the biggest airports in Europe. Apprently there is a grocery store at the airport. That is one way to keep people from exploring the city.
From there we are heading to Lisbon. Here we are hoping to stay at Hotel Mirapaque. It is in the center of town which can be expensive, but apprently if you don't mind staying somewhere with wood paneled lounges and simulated brown leather seating they are happy to have you and your dog. We are going to stay here until the 17th of November. Then we are off to Nazare.
My address in Nazare will be:
Rua Dr Jose Caborinho
Marques Da Silveira
Vila Mafra
10 Andar Dto
Letra C
Nazare
Not sure what the postal code is, but i will keep you posted... (get it? posted? ha ha)
Fr
Sunday, August 19, 2007
homeward bound
I don`t seem to be able to type without this keyboard reverting to Japanese so forgive me if the message is brief and messed up. We just left Hangzhou and now are in Japan. Luckily the typhoon was hitting the town a few hours after we left. When we got up this morning it was beautiful sunny and 36 degrees. By the time we left at 10.30 the winds and rains had started. We flew threw some of the storm on our way to Narita.
I am not sure if it was time to leave so i was losing my patience or i was losing my patience so it was time to leave. Yesterday dad and i were sitting enjoying a cup of tea when a "gentleman" beside our table decided to clear both his nostrils and his throat and deposit all the muckus on the carpeted floor beside us. Turned out I was done with my tea at that point. Then this morning it was all i could do not to stand on the table and shout at everyone "That`s right i am white, a little large, and not as stylish as you thought i should be, so please stop staring and just eat your stinkin` breakfast." So probably best if i come home before starting an international incident.
See you all soon.
t
Thursday, August 16, 2007
nobody puts baby in the corner
We cruised down the yangtze for three days. it was a little like dirty dancing only without the dancing part. we had an odd cruise director named Christof. He came to here from Germany 27 years ago and never left. He is about 5 feet tall and has a nice little mole on his nose. And, he loved Aiden, who got to go meet the captain privately and see the wheel house.
Early morning starts with afternoon naps and mai tais at four make it the most relaxing three days of our journey. Plus they did all our meals for us so we didn't have to try to decipher any menus.
We cruised thru the locks from the Three Gorges Dam. Man, do they need the power. When you see the country you can understand why they are doing the project. Shanghai needs most of the power they generate just to keep their neon working. Got some great shots. Seems like it is daylight in the night there are so many lights. The temperature gauge in the town square didn't dip below 29 for our entire time. We thought it might be broken, because with the humidity it didn't seem hotter than 35 or 37.
Drove the Hangzhoug and found a Starbuck right by our hotel. Must be closer to home. We all gave a little cheer when we noticed it, because they have nice potties as well as great smoothies.
see you all on sunday.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
chongqing
We are off to a new place tomorrow. Kunming was cool, but we did as much in three days as we could. Treesa, Jerry and I went out to buy some toothpaste for Kathy last night and promptly got lost. We ended up walking along a great river bank and had a lot of locals amazed. I don't think white tourists end up at local markets very often.
Today we went to a Minority Village. If you can imagine a bastard child of Epcot and It's A Small World you will be able to picture what we saw. Only we got to see Bai Nazi and a few other local minorities. It was neat to see the dress and find out a bit of the culture, but the "minorities" didn't seem all that happy there today.
One minority that got a lot of looks was the large white family. We had so many people trying to take our pictures and talk to us that our guide finally started to move us on every time he noticed someone noticing us. Jerry figures we will be sold in the night market on DVD tonight. Not many of us make it up here so we stand out especially when we group together.
Saw Diachi(spelling wrong) Lake today. It was a colour that does not occur in nature. I have never seen anything so polluted in my life. As we drove by Aiden asked "who cut the cheese?" very polite. Our pour guide thought he was serious and started to tell us that there was no cheese for lunch. Not all english translates. We will be out of touch for the next four days. We head down the Yangtzee. Looking forward to seeing it.
You cannot believe how many people there are here. It boggles the mind. Every inch of space is used for something. There are either growing something in the land or building something on it.
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