Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Stars.

In the good old days you booked a hotel and that was that. Now a morning is spent trying to communicate with the hotel in Lisbon about arrival times, passport numbers, pillow options and restaurant reservations. You'd think this could easily be done by e-mail but it seems nothing in Portugal is that simple. We are bombarded with messages. This whole process, a young lady at the front desk informs me, is to ' ensure a smooth and seamless guest  experience'. I bite my tongue. The young woman suggests sending a car to meet us but when told the price Angus says we'll take a cab. As an aside TAP, the Portugese airline, is to be acquired by Air France. This, for anyone who tries to make an online reservation for two seats together, cannot come a moment too soon. Their systems have a certain archaic charm.

We look up and the rain clouds have parted. There are stars to be seen ! Our walk from the car to the theatre for the evening performance completed under Mediterranean skies.


When we head back to the car afterwards the streets are wet. That parting in the clouds must have lasted for all of half an hour before the rain returned. The owner of the Italian restaurant remains hopeful that al fresco dining will become a February thing. I'm not sure that even the students are other worldly enough to try sitting outside at this time of the year.

We order an Indian take away. Take aways here are designed for the mega healthy  student appetite. One portion would happily have satisfied both of us. We briefly toy with the idea of eating in the restaurant but it's full, the noise levels are stratospherically  high and the average age of the diners is somewhere well south of twenty - all of whom are conducting conversations with friends six tables away.


A most un-Presbyterian message projected onto the wall of the old town hall.


'The Fonts' favourite store in town is having a sale. Some sales are understated affairs. This is a particularly understated affair.

Life in these northerly parts remains quiet.

7 comments:

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari Om
I can't help feeling that the pandemic didn't just try to decimate the overpopulation of the planet, but was the starting phase of an era of dystopia... Thank heavens for pockets of serenity such as reports from dark streets in a small university town on Scotland's east coast! YAM xx

Lisa in France said...

Maybe it is the lawyer in me, but I am more optimistic than the Professor. The president may be sowing the seeds of his own unmaking by moving too fast. Congress is a disaster, but the courts other than the Supreme Court are generally holding up and so is the election system (at least in Texas). He probably knows he doesn't that much time left, and he clearly has no patience, so he's tried to end run basic democratic institutions rather than taking the time to corrupt them.

Travel said...

I tend to agree with Lisa, I think he is trying to do as much as he can, knowing that he may not have all four years to act, if this year's election shifts the balance in Congress, power will shift significantly.

Diaday said...

Your stroll under a Mediterranean sky sounds delightful. We've had some lovely night skies - with 15" of snow on the ground!

Stephanie said...

Your starlit sky photo is so striking that it's possible to identify the stars: Jupiter is next to Castor and Pollux above the chimney and the constellation Auriga is at the very top of the picture.

Stephanie said...

And the Pleiades in the very upper right corner. Well done, Angus.

William said...

Hopefully, the long lines at Lisbon airport customs, are getting better.