Lisbon Stories

As I mentioned earlier, here are some stories from Lisbon:

This weekend in Lisbon there is the festival of Sao Antonio, the patron saint of Lisboa. The streets of Alfama are all decorated with colorful streamers and little shrines to Sao Antonio depicted at the top of a set of stairs pouring out a jug of water that runs s\down to a little pile of treasure. The story is (well part of it anyway) the Sao Antonio helps women to find a husband. On Saturday the city will sponsor the marriage of twenty couples too poor to have their own wedding. The ceremony will take place on the steps of the cathedral (which is being set up with a temporary platform stage as we speak). The city will dress the brides in gowns and tux the men, perform the ceremony, drive the pals around in Rolls Royces and then give them some loot to set up their new life together like household appliances.

On Tuesday I got pooped on by an pigeon. Right in the eye, goggles notwithstanding. Antonio, our tour guide and chef, told me this was very good luck and alluded to a possible situation in which I might be lucky in love. And I am lucky. And I have love. And I hope I don't get some evil disease from Portuguese bird poo.

Ok, pals, the truth is I didn't do anything special in Lisbon. I just wandered around taking pictures the whole time and discussing the most important things in the universe with my new-found girlfriends from the hostel. It took me two days to figure out how to say "thank you". I ate at the hostel almost every night because I blew my budget on airfare. And it turned out that the home cooking there was much better than anything I had out at restaurants. And it felt like home, like going home to your parents' house and letting your sunburn set in while waiting for dinner. There were big soft rolls for breakfast and slices of cheese and tomato jam (which was awesome) and coffee that tasted funny, not ha ha but weird. There was sunshine, something I don't get much of in Chicago, and fresh air and internet access.

That was it. Every day was about the same, just new streets to wander. It was truly wonderful. I bought a few pieces of fruit and a couple of bottles of wine. I sent postcards for the first time in my life. I didn't have to do or be anything. I just existed.