Hello again,

 

I know I've made the odd promise of updating my blog more frequently and I really have intended to, but always seem to get thwarted by the tempremental internet connection situation. Well fingers crossed, it's back for the long term (asking for trouble?!). Not so much out of the usual routine to report, been teaching quite a bit and rewarding myself a bit too. A bit too much on Thursday night, Tequilla hangovers are a completely different kettle of fish, náo é? (I could do a whole lesson on these kinda sayings)  I acquired it in OKA bar, a small friendly Brazilian bar in Bairro, with guys playing guitars and singing traditional songs (that everyone knows the words to except me, perhaps I need to visit more frequently?), I make up for it by joining in with gusto on the obligatory Bob Marley numbers! Just time for a couple more Tequillas with Amy and Maddy, a beer, a caipirinha, stumble to Harry's bar, and a pao com churico and my watch said it was 6am, not that I knew, I'm just assuming - well unless it's new owner has altered the time I guess. Ignorance is bliss, discuss.

 So, it was gone 7am by the time we, erm I went to bed - good prepartion for the weekend I think!

Fortunately, I didn't receive any last minute requests for my monster control services, not that I'd have accepted them, but still saved me pretending I was in the cinema or something equally lame. Fortunately the headache had just about lifted by midnight, so I met Jorge for a few Imperial's, visiting 2 new bars along the way, 'Frenetis' (?!) and 'Purex' - isn't that a type of glass they make kitchenware out of, odd?, before calling it a day.

I thought of the basis of a poem in Portuguese on the way home - I swear, Superbock is good stuff. I'm not usually one for writing poetry. Perhaps Fernando Pessoa is rubbing off on me. Can't he get arrested for that? (Rather Ironically there's a bronze statue of him ouside the Cafe Brasiliera with a worn shiney patch, where tourists return the favour, sitting on his lap to get their picture taken. Unlike Simon Quinlag, I've never seen the appeal of brass rubbing - weak lemon drink anyone? I put pen to paper this morning and finished my poem, would you like to read it, oh okay then if you insist;

Eu fui roubado, no sabado passado,   [I was robbed, on saturday past,]

Não sei o tempo,                               [I don't know what time,] 

Porque eles tem meu relogio,             [Because they have my watch,]

Sozinho no escuro,                            [Alone in the dark,]

Sem lua,                                           [Without light, ]

Sem dinheiro,                                    [Wihout money, ]

Tudo é negro, ainda meu olho             [Everything is black, even my eye ]

 

If you were waiting for the punchline, there ain't one*. I was walking home in the early hours of Sunday morning, just heading towards a small set of stairs that cut through to my place and the next thing I remember is being on the floor with a guy sat on my chest, one holding my arms and another holding my legs, I tried to free myself and got a punch in the face for it (*I lied - it's a kinda punchline I guess), then I felt one of them go into my pockets, so I struggled again with the same result, and a few kicks and blows to my body to boot. As I tried to keep my watch I got another few - you think I'd have learnt by now, must have been the shock or something. Then they left me, having taken my mobile, watch and money from my wallet, throwing my empty wallet back at me as they went (nice touch - it could have been worse!) I picked myself up and walked home a little dazed and confused, battered and bruised - and collapsed into bed.

 Woke up the next morning with a nice black eye and on further inspection a bruise on the back of my head, I think they must have hit me from behind as I can't remember seeing them before I was on the floor. It's all a bit cliché, but everything was a bit of a blur, I couldn't really remember what they looked like other than a basic description, but reported it to the police anyway. Portugal is generally regarded as one of the safer places, but Lisbon seems to be on a par with most other big cities around Europe from the number of people who told me of similar incidents - maybe it's just PR work.

 Funnily enough I was feeling a bit sorry for myself for the next couple of days, not helped by my bruises and pulling a muscle in my back trying to free myself - I couldn't help but replay what happened in my mind and try to think how I could have got out of the situation. I guess having to explain my black eye in every class, didn't help either. But it is just one of those things, I've never really worried about being mugged, I've always assumed I could run away or avoid dodgy people late at night, but if you don't see 'em in the first place it's a bit tricky. I'm pretty sure I'll be a bit more careful in future, and possibly avoid dark alleyway shortcuts when alone! Hmmm, in hindsight....

 Done quite a bit of teaching this week with a personal best of 7.5 hours in one day on Wed, that's more than I've done in some weeks. Think I got a bit too bold yesterday as I agreed to sub for a teacher, without checking what it was - turned out to be a class of 20 year 3's (9ish I think). 45 minutes with them and the mugging seemed like a walk in the park, it was an interesting intellectual challenge, trying to maintain any kind of order and just keep them in their seats, shouting, pleading in either language wasn't proving so successful - stern looks and a firm voice close up seemed to do the trick with individuals - but while I was dealing with one little rascal, all the ones behind me were off their chairs, throwing paper balls all around the classroom and various other misdemeanours. It felt more like a learning cliff than a curve, and I’d forgot my climbing gear and had a hangover.

 Out and about – I went to a Drum and Bass night last Friday with Wendy as she wanted to go. I was a bit unsure about it, but thought maybe I had just heard bad stuff or didn’t really get it. I’m no longer undecided, I hate it and I’m convinced there’s nothing to understand about it. Every track was exactly the same format. First 10-20 seconds, which were my favourite, some semblance of atmosphere, with a bit of keys or strings (ooh this doesn’t sound too bad), then in comes the drum and bass – “ooh that surprised me, just like the other 47 tracks you’ve just played” drowning out the only part that made it sound different to any of the other tracks, and this continues to the end of the record, repeat process. If all else fails I’m gonna sell my soul and become a drum and bass DJ - talk about money for nothing. Fans of Drum and bass, feel free to place counter-arguments as comments I want to know what I’m missing.

A remedy was soon at hand however as I went to Estado Liquido last night to see Slope place which was excellent and free too. It’s a really nice place, a bar / sushi lounge in Santos – the website’s pretty cool too. Til next time...

 

http://www.estadoliquido.com/website/index.html

 

http://www.clubemercado.blogspot.com/ (and club Mercado too - a favourite haunt)

 

http://www.oxigenio.fm/ (my favourite Radio station in Lisbon)

Happy New Year Everyone!

 

It was good to be home for Christmas, and really nice to see so many familiar faces over the festive period - soz if I didn't see you, for whatever reason, maybe next year eh.....

 

Flew back to Lisbon on NYE, landing at 9ish in the morning, had just missed the hourly bus into Faro so sat outside the airport on a bench. It was just about time for my bus when I looked up and spotted a teacher from the school, who also spotted me. As luck would have it she'd just landed and was driving up to Lisbon and offerred me a lift - bonus, particulalrly as I had a 4 hour wait in Faro lined up before my train would depart. At least it started well...

 

Arrived back at the apartment to find the water had been switched off, rang the landlord but no answer, so left a message. Checked in with the people I knew were in Lisbon to see what they were planning to celebrate the New Year - hmmm do I sense a distinct lack of plans!

 

So did a bit of scouting around, but couldn't really find anything that took my fancy so pitched for the rather predictable - midnight at Praca Comercio, followed by Bairro Alto and see where it all ends up. Tried to phone a few people, but was met with an alarming lack of response. (don't panic - yet). Still hadn't heard from the landlord and it was starting to sink in what an inconvenience a lack of water is. Then Wendy phoned to say she was heading to Praca Comercio with her brother - there is a God! After some amateur attempts at being the long lost Mario brother, there was still no sign of water, so tried again, in vain to get hold of Mr Landlord.

 

Heated some bottled water up on the stove for a full body wash and shave, then headed out feeling a little fresher oping to find some food. Seems like all the Cafe-type places had closed so headed to the square hoping to grad something on the way - no luck. Arrived at the square filled with 1,000's of people, the largest Christmas tree in mainland europe (even if it is made from scaffolding), and a live act on stage, I'm still not sure who - quite good though! Time ticked away and I was still sem friends, not counting the hot dog and pint I'd acquired. Sent Wendy a text to see if she was around, but still no response - eeek! Before I knew it the countdown had started and I was in 2006, met with a huge fireworks display to keep me company.

 

After fighting my way through the crowds up to the Bairro, I got a drink in Spot bar and bumped into Jorge, then got a phone call from Wendy and met up with her and her brother (como autocarros?). Few shots and beers later and it was all a bit hazy, stumbling to a place for the old Bread and Churico combo - and not from the backdoor bakery (is this in the profanisaurus, if not it should be) this time, along with mini Shrimp crispy pancake things - a new favourite..and New Year's Eve was done.

 

New Year's Day and the gas ran out, plus still no water - I do hope this isn't an Omen - all the shops were shut so couldn't get any Gas either - aaaarggghhhh!!

 

Finally got hold of the landlord on Monday night, and within an hour a bloke came round to sort it - maybe it was the increasingly irrate messages - who knows? Eased my way back into the teaching although quite a few cancellations early in the week were probably for the best, given the domestic situation. That's about all for now - it's good to be back - online and in Lisbon!