My head is buzzing from the events of the past 24 hours and am so tired that I barely even feel my body anymore. It’s that time of the month again… no, not that! Remember, post-menopausal diva here, so my time of the month has a very different context these days. You guessed it, time to move again. Sigh. This will be the fifth move in four months, within Portugal! I am breaking all my records here. I may have moved 15 times cross continentaly in my life, but this the very first time to move so often within a country, or even a district for that matter. Again, I am moving rooms within the apartment, and this time to a bigger room and for a much longer term, so I am assured of some semblance of stability until September. What happened to the apartment I was waiting for? I stopped wanting to wait for it, especially if told that after the current tenant moves out (God knows when that will be), the place will require rennovation and industrial sanitation because the person living there is an obsessive hoarder and her cats went a little wild. My plan B is also stricken, so I am now going on Plan C. Breathe, Tess, breathe. I have to say though, I almost envy this man… I see him every morning when I arrive at the station, and again in the evenings when I alight from the train: at least he has his permanent bench!
Last night was another turning point for me. I was asked to be part of a service crew for an event and be the photographer on duty. OK, I thought to myself, this is a great opportunity to network. I have little to no idea what I am really getting myself into, but that is the story of my life and that is definitely the way I love to roll. So, armed with my trusty equipment, I schlepped everything to work and looked as if I was joining military troops at war, much to the amusement of some colleagues.
I headed to the venue after office hours and entered the parallel universe of a magical private garden. There I met the two-man band (French and Spanish) who played mostly Latin American music, the vegan chef (who recently moved here from the UK), the service crew (Portuguese who spent many years in Switzerland and French), the bartender (German) and the hostess (Czech). Talk about international convergence! I had the easiest job of all, just to photograph the guests, so I basically just had to fade into the background and click away. No problem, until I leaned a couple of minutes too long against the repurposed bathtub that is now a stylized pond, and got my butt all wet. So half the evening I went around (thankfully I was dressed entirely in black) with a drenched butt, wondering how on earth I was going to sit on the train. Ah, Girl Scout leader to the rescue. I turned my pants around so the wet spot was on my abdomen, and threw a cardigan over it. Voila! I may be able to share images of the event, as they are not mine to share, but I did manage another train station shot, this time Alcantara-Terra.
This morning I felt as though I spent the entire night on the train but I was rewarded with this spectacular cloud dialogue. So what’s another whacky Friday when you have clouds to appease your soul? Oh and the bull run festival in Vila Franca to look forward to next weekend! This is Portugal’s answer to the Spanish bull run / festival in Pamplona.