My Affair with Lisbon Has Begun

I've just wrapped up DAY ONE of my 20 day trip to Lisbon. Worry not dear reader. I will not be sending out day by day descriptions of my daily activities.  How dull would that be.  I'll just summarize quickly the journey here.  And some pictures from day one...gotta have pics.

To start with, let me tell you I love my suitcase, as much as any suitcase can be loved. It's got sturdy wheels, and with its green zebra pattern, it stands out among all the black and red suitcases.  It's a great suitcase. Except that it has started to fall apart at the seams. Literally. But, I am Canadian and as such, I believe duct tape fixes everything. 

Have a deep paper cut? Duct tape it.

Light fixture falling off the ceiling? Duct tape it.

Suitcase seams coming undone?  Duct tape it.

(And pack some for the trip home)

This is not a complaint, but, 45 minutes before leaving to be at the airport, I jump into a pair of jeans. They don't fit.  They are falling off me.  No problem, I think. I put on another pair.  Same issue.  It seems I lost enough weight sometime between the May two four weekend and now, to make my pants fall off.  Again, I think no problem.  Time to get creative with the attire.  I take a scarf, link it through the belt loops, tie it good and proper and presto. Problem fixed.  I should mention that I have not owned a belt since it became obvious that wearing anything tucked inside my pants, was the wrong look--wearing blouses inside your pants with a belt around your waist or hips is an honour not a right.  The same applies to wearing spandex. Trust me on this.

So, with duct taped suitcase and a scarf securing my pants in place, I'm off to the airport.

It's a small world...

"You don't have an accent," the male voice behind me says.

"Neither do you," replies the female voice behind me.

Neither do I, but no one asked me.

"I was born here," she says.

"Me too. I live in Banff now," he says.

That's it. I can't take it anymore.  I don't have an accent. I love Banff and I want in on this conversation.  

"Excuse me," I say. "I can't help but overhear."  Lie. Lie. I probably could, or I could have ignored it.

"Alberta is so beautiful. My daughter lived out there for a few years. And she just returned from High Level yesterday." 

"Oh, that's pretty far north," he says. (It really is. Look it up if you are not familiar.)

"Yes, it is.  Her first job in Alberta was at Chateau Lake Louse."

"I worked there about 10 years ago," he says

"That's when she was there." I provide her name.

"I remember her. She and her friend hung out with Ron Wood." (Google him if you are not familiar.)

"Yup. That's her." And I think, you have noooo idea how freaked out I was!  (If you Googled Ron Wood, you'll understand why.)

Of all the people, in all of Canada, boarding the same flight as I ... it's a small world.

And now some pics:

The view from my apartment--St. George Castle

Public transit at the door

Why are pigeons so disrespectful? Why?

Canada--never far from home

I did not go here as I have have my own Portuguese/Italian kitchen at home

Woman blowing bubbles with everyone around her taking pictures. Not sure if the beer was hers.

I love all the outdoor cafes and restaurants 

Four dudes and a beer by the river

My street at night. A very typical street in Lisbon