A guy juggling in front of traffic stopped at a light in the Vilahrena neighborhood of Porto. He then went down the line soliciting donations. Sorry for the distance.
I guess it’s better than walking between cars with a water spray and a squeegee in your hands.
Less than 24 hours after the sea boiled and exploded over the rocks off Porto, the surf is still high and crashing.
I haven’t seen seas like I witnessed yesterday since I was in a typhoon in the South China Sea in the spring of 1974.
This is fascinating. I took a break from tourism and spent a morning with coffee and The Blacklist.
Episode 38. The Troll Farmer. Aired Oct. 1, 2015.
A secret IT contractor that Raymond Reddington uses to set up a plethora of false postings throughout the social media world, on Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, etc.
Fake postings, altered and/or fake photos and video, all created with the intent to mislead law enforcement authorities and to manipulate public opinion.
Entertaining fiction in late 2015. Now known to be fact.
But enough with the fictions of The Blacklist. The very real, wild unPhotoshopped Atlantic shore awaits.
Without comment. Just walking to and from the Santa Apolonia train station to purchase a ticket to Porto.
While sitting on the mini-balcony of my guesthouse in Lisbon this afternoon, enjoying a Davidoff and enduring the caterwauling of a group of kids in the adjacent courtyard, my iPhone, after weeks of not accepting new emails, dinged, and I found eight new emails, among them one from the Boston Globe.
Besides a piece on the arctic deep freeze folks from the midwest to the east coast are enduring, the Globe editors noted that it was 50 years ago today that the Beatles performed live for the last time, on the roof of their Apple Studios.
From the Boston Globe:
Finally, it was fifty years ago today … that the Beatles — John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr — played together live for the last time. It was an impromptu 42-minute “concert” on the roof of Apple’s offices on Savile Row in central London, where they had been recording their album “Let It Be” in a basement studio. (A young keyboardist, Billy Preston, accompanied them.)
The Beatles played nine takes of five songs in this order:
“Get Back” (take one)
“Get Back” (take two)
“Don’t Let Me Down” (take one)
“I’ve Got a Feeling” (take one)
“One After 909”
“Dig a Pony”
“I’ve Got a Feeling” (take two)
“Don’t Let Me Down” (take two)
“Get Back” (take three)
The concert, held around lunchtime, at first confused the office workers and shoppers on the streets below. When they realized what was going on, the crowd grew, with many climbing onto adjacent rooftops for a better view. Police, concerned about traffic as well as the noise, entered the Apple building and made their way to the roof, where they ordered the music stopped.
The band still played for several more minutes; on the spot, Paul changed the lyrics of his song “Get Back” to say “You’ve been playing on the roofs again, and you know your Momma doesn’t like it, she’s gonna have you arrested!” When they finished playing, John said, “I’d like to say thank you on behalf of the group and ourselves and I hope we’ve passed the audition.”
Even though fans hoped the performance was a precursor to the band’s return to touring, which they hadn’t done since 1965, it was not to be. They recorded one more album, “Abbey Road,” which was released the year before “Let It Be,” but by September of 1969, it was pretty much over.
“But it never really ended, did it,” the Globe article concluded.
No, I thought, it didn’t. And as long as I and countless other people who experienced the joy of witnessing all the Beatles wrought remain on this earth, it won’t.
Thanks, boys. By the way, you passed the audition.
Whenever I’m in some new place, I’m always happy when I see a record store touting vinyl records. We lost something with the “progress” that resulted in vinyl becoming obsolete.
So I was pleased to see “Vinil Experience” on the main drag near my guest house in Lisbon.
With, apparently, the exception of country & western and rap, the store has every type of music recorded on vini- uh, vinyl.
Hard (rock), soul, funk, progressive, psychedelic, “garage” band, beat, pop acid, folk, jazz and “stoner,” which made me laugh, because that label could be applied to just about any type of music, I’d think.
But… kraut? I mean, German people have made a serious contribution to all sorts of music, including rock – danke, Michael Schenker – but I don’t recall ever hearing that there was a genre of music called “kraut,” unless you’re referring to people in lederhosen hopping about playing tiny accordions.
So I will be venturing inside the store tomorrow to delve into this mystery and get back to you all.
After all, Thin Lizzy. Rory Gallagher and U2 aside, there’s never been a musical classification termed “mick,” has there?
We all learned about those three maids in a tub and the three guys hanging around for what I’d guess was an obvious reason, though I missed it as a seven-year old: the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker.
Two of those three, at least in modern day corporate form, are still around in America, i.e., said butcher and baker.
But in Portugal, they have it all covered.
Lots of blathering idiots are going on and on about “making America get again.”
Portugal is just great. Whether the “making” is incredible foods, wines, or even candles. No need to talk about it. They’re too busy doing it.
The young woman attendant at the laundermat I used today. Amen.
It’s a good trip when you’ve really enjoyed a stay somewhere but are ready to leave, and have someplace else to look forward to seeing.
My 24 days in Portugal starts with three nights in Lisbon. Arrived here late this afternoon from Casablanca, and I didn’t even have to shoot any German officers to get a visa.
And just in case you might think I’m just another westerner recalling an old Humphrey Bogart classic folks in Morocco have forgotten about, check out this back lit sign behind the check out counter at the Casablanca airport duty free shop.
Getting through the Madrid airport, which I made the mistake of transiting through rather than just flying direct to Lisbon on another airline other than Iberia, like TAP, has always been at best a pain in the ass. But the approach as we landed was certainly something to see.
When I landed in Lisbon shortly before 5 pm, it was 55 degrees and had recently rained. Given Chicago’s weather, I was pleased.
A longish and not cheap taxi ride got me to my lodging around 6. Very comfortable room in a third floor walk up (I can’t seem to get away from flights of stairs) in a rather funky neighborhood that’s safe, but with lots of graffiti and bars. Down at the end of my block, I could look left and see the ocean a mile or so off.
This is very much like San Francisco, with narrower streets. Not just the steep hills but cable cars everywhere.
I couldn’t take pics, because my iPhone battery was dead when I arrived at the airport, but as best I could tell, the Cardinal who is archbishop Lisbon was on my flight, returning from World Youth Day in Panama City, Panama, after the Pope announced there that Lisbon will be the site of the next world Your Day, in July, 2022.
The cardinal’s presence would explain why there were five tactical cops waiting along the walkway from my plane. I watched them escort him away from the gate to the luggage carousels, then sat near the airport exit as a crowd of what sounded like young people on the other side of the departure area, maybe 150 feet away, chanted happily and then cheered wildly as the Cardinal appeared.
Laundry this morning after coffee and a bite, then I think I’ll find my way to one of the several oversights in Lisbon and gaze down on the city panorama.
Photos to come.
Over the Hill & Far Away 