From A Hotel Room

Travel is not what it once was. Travel is not pretty, no sir.  

 

We departed East Lansing at 6:30 AM on Saturday the 14^th of August taking the Michigan Flyer to Detroit.  In what was the fourth unilateral itinerary changes before our departure by Air Canada we had been shifted to a flight from Detroit to O’Hare Airport as the commencement of our journey.  (Our original tickets were Detroit->Toronto -> Lisboa). The aircraft we were to fly to O’Hare on kept getting smaller and smaller. By the time the day was over there would be six unilateral changes to our itinerary.  

 

Getting to the airport, the United desk had everyone but me in the computer.  Took a bit to find/create a profile for me.  (Maybe it was my old Red File gumming up the works). Eventually I was found and we were sent on to TSA.  Crowded but not too crowded.  TSA was no problem for me.  Others in my party had opted to travel in sandals.  God help who ever followed them into the hands up spinners.

 

O’Hare was a circus.  I got my daily steps in just getting from our arrival terminal to our departure terminal.  Some people learned they should not eat “Chicago Style Dogs” with that phosphorescent green relish before embarking on a puddle jumper from the windy city to Hogtown as Toronto was once known. Some of us made the wiser choice of eating a cheese and fruit plate.

 

It is important to note that the whole reason we were going Detroit to Chicago to Toronto to Lisboa was because the folks at Air Canada had changed the departure time for our flight going Toronto to Lisbon and the connection would have been too tight timewise.  Thus, it was just special to get a text, which arrived while we were flying to O’Hare, saying the Chicago to Toronto flight was being delayed two hours making the connection to Lisbon just as tight.  We made the connection but not without the grinding of teeth and the use of very many words not heard in the bible, mostly under my breath.

 

And then….

 

And then the immigration kafuffle at the Lisbon Airport.  Apparently, the SEF (Portuguese immigration service) is being disbanded because of the death of a foreign national in their custody.  The reallocation of the current SEF officers to other governmental branches and the creation of the new immigration agency is a process that is midway through the works.  As a result, the staff at immigration at the major airports are doing rolling strikes.  We spent 4+ hot, sticky, cramped hours clearing customs.  It was ugly.  It was physically and emotionally wrecking.  But eventually we made it through and after 24 hours of travelling, something that should have taken us 12-13 we arrived at our hotel.  

 

Trying to beat jet lag we stayed up and went in search of food, no fancy foods but something on a side street that was tasty and unique.  On Rua something or another we found Sr. Lisbon a kind of tapas place.  With ice cold water and cold mediocre beer (and I swear it was some of the best beer ever) we washed down a great egg dish, an octopus in some wonderful simmer sauces and some cod croquettes that for all the world reminded me of Maryland crab cakes.  With that meal and with that Superbock beer all was made right with the world.  Day two awaits us as I write this at 7 AM Lisboa time.

You Too Can Share in the Experience

After I posted yesterday, I thought about that photo of me consuming some red table wine.  No doubt I was looking kind of mellow in the shot. In actuality I was blissed and it didn’t take much. That day was filled with serendipity.  We had gotten on the wrong train, gone to the wrong town, and were just wandering around.  It was foggy but there was a pervasive smell of freshly grilled seafood. Suddenly we came upon a restaurant with a gentleman out in front grilling fish.

 

We went in and ordered based on a menu that had pictures of the food.  To wash our food down we ordered some wine. One of the great things about travelling in Portugal is that the table wine is both inexpensive and good. Most people when then think about alcohol coming from Portugal focus on the fortified port wines. But Portugal produces a number of other fine alcoholic beverages. Quite importantly they are readily available and inexpensive.

 

One that I like quite a bit is called vinho verde.  This comes from up around the Douro Valley area where the grapes used to make port come from. However, in contrast to port wine vinho verde is a very light crisp drink with a delicate to moderate fruity flavor. It is an excellent late afternoon drink, kind of a dessert after a day of arduous labors wine. You can find several quite tasty vinho verde brands in the “Spanish” wine section of Whole Paycheck Markets. For centuries Portugal fought to not be Spain but an American grocery chain has given Spain a kind of W.

 

I digress.  At restaurants red table wines are called tinto and are only a couple of euros for two full glasses and a wee bit more. In yesterday’s photo I was drinking tinto and obviously enjoying it.  Imagine my surprise yesterday when I was walking through Costo and saw this display on Sunday.  Tinto is available at the big box store. Hey maybe you cannot meet me in Portugal but at least you can share in what I am drinking. This assumes you duck in quickly to Costco.

 

As to the mechanics of the upcoming trip I spent the morning today trying to rebook my seats for my flight. Once again that have changed the equipment on the overseas flight.  Additionally, as I previously noted they have sent me to Illinois to get to Toronto.  This meant I had to rebook seats on two additional flights.  One of the flights was on another airline so I had to go to their website in addition to working with Air Canada’s. As it stands, I have seats all arranged.  I tried to call Air Canada to see if there is any possible way to go from DTW directly to Toronto.  All I got was a recording that their customer service center was so overburdened they could not take any more calls at the current time.  I will try tomorrow in the early morning hours. This is the current state of air travel.

 

Also, I spent about half an hour trying to figure out where I could get PCR tests.  Not an easy task given the time constraints the airlines and the Portuguese government put on the tests.

 

This Stuff is Getting Real.

 

Today marks three weeks and six days before I set off on an all-day journey that will take me to Portugal.  Tomorrow I will have to spend some time in the morning sorting out seats on the first two legs that that outbound flight.  Because of Covid the flight time for the YYZ to LIS segment has changed three times.  The last change made it an impossible connection.  So now instead of going DTW (Detroit) to YYZ (Toronto) and then on to Lisbon I am going DTW to O’Hare and then O’Hare to YYZ and then on to Lisbon.  With ground transport and layovers and TSA and customs you might as well figure my 14^th of August which bleeds into the 15^th will be a 24-hour deal.

 

In the past couple of days, I have been juggling stuff around.  Turns out I will in all likelihood be meeting one of my nephews in Lisbon. Then I will catch up with some good friends in the Algarve. A little later I will probably meet another Michigan friend in Lisbon.  If anyone else is going to be in Portugal in September or October let me know, I have some open slots on my dance card. But to make these connections work I have had to change some reservations. Grrr, but not really.  I mean that is the thing about travel, flexibility is crucial.

 

Got lots of books here on Portugal.  However, their approaches are vastly different.  One group is for the hostel oriented.  Another group is for the landed gentry.  Me, I clearly fall in between these two groups.  Thus, I picked up the above travel guide today.  It is sort of a Cliff’s Notes for all the travel guides I have.  The first two pages of each region’s entry are the equivalent of bullet points that say here is the must-see stuff and if you got time, here are the deep cuts.  Trust me I plan to allow for serendipity and I want to dig into those deep cuts.

 

Watch this space.  I will keep posting about the planning for the trip and the adventure itself.  There should be lots of pictures. Feel free to ask questions in the comments section. The shot below is of me in a seafood restaurant in Espino a couple years back.  A little table wine and some white fish can take you to places of delight.

A Banged Up 12 Inch Square Cardboard Box with Grease Stains

 

5 June 2021

 

Barely 8 AM.  70-degree Fahrenheit and I have already walked two miles in 36 minutes.  Breakfast before heading out was a single scrambled egg with a crumbled-up piece of thick Wright’s bacon wrapped in a flour tortilla. Topped it with medium Whole Foods 365 salsa.  Had to get fed and out before the heat of the day came on in force.  

 

While on my path I saw dog walkers.  Six dogs were out being exercised, dewatered and having their bowels evacuated.  Glad I don’t own a dog, I really never want to be carrying those plastic bags either before or after. Two fairly large dogs were accompanied by moms with kids in strollers.  Two hounds were leading people dressed in spandex on a morning run (okay not technically “walking”.) Two were accompanied by people just as diffuse in focus as the shaggy canines they held on leashes. They shuffled from side to side, the dogs sniffing everything and the leash holders gazing at smartphones.

 

Walked west first.  Then did a serpentine north/south pattern staying on the east side of the street.  This pattern allowed the majority of my walk to be in the shade.  Oh, how the maples have filled out with their broad leaves.  Many a lawn sprinkler was working.  We had a number of water and gas lines worked on in the neighborhood over the past six months.  Most folks have been watering the reseeded areas above these lines on the regular.

 

Squirrels were working overtime.  Kind of fun to watch them dash up trees and hang virtually upside down as they observed me go by.  Flowers were exploding everywhere with bright colors.  Reds and yellows, with some pinks and purples were visible in yard after yard.  The most visually attractive were the flowers posted along with this writing.

 

As I walked the Jay Todd station on Apple music kicked out a pretty good stream of songs.  It began with Richard Thompson’s The Storm Won’t Come moving into Dave Alvin’s Don’t Make Promises followed by John Gorka’s Riverside. Having a good stream of songs makes the walk go by so much faster and imbues it with a warm gentle smile. John Gorka sang “Every little day can make a difference” and I believed him. 

We must celebrate gorgeous mornings.  We must embrace the bright palette of colors summer flowers offer us. We must sing along as we walk on a beautiful day with the ear worms we hear.

 

As I was walking, I was thinking my body with all its faults is akin to a cardboard box, one that has been stored in the attic of the garage.  The brown fiber tape that held it closed has lost any adhesive quality and hangs loosely.  The sides of the box have some gouges where it has been pushed against the sharp corners of harder objects when the storage space has been rearranged from time to time over the years.  And there are grease stains within and without from stuff that has leaked onto and into its six sides. 

 

Right now, the box is still roughly sound but it is showing its age. Over time it has contained many things, but most now it contains remnants of the past. Crammed insider are old scraps of newsprint (probably the Penn’s Grove Record) and bundles of forgotten post cards received from distant places.  There are also mysteriously shaped and unidentifiable things that were once part of bigger things. Here they have come to rest; hey they might still belong to something of value. For now, the box is still allowed to remain on the shelf, but who knows for how much longer.

 

One should not walk too long for stray thoughts can quickly turn from pondering flowers below to thinking about flowers above. Hey the sun is out so I moved onto the next song and began humming along to Warren Zevon singing about Woodrow Wilson’s guns pounding Veracruz.  (Have to look that up when I get a moment). All in all there is no question I want to stuff a few more items into the box over the next couple of years.