Wandering about Lisbon

There you go: twice in Lisbon in two weeks, after years trying to find the best moment to get there. Does one ever learn that "best moments" do not exist?


After a late night flight, a late night Uber ride, a late night delivery of a briefing, I was exhausted but Lisbon was there for a few days.

Two weeks ago, Lisbon was hot, unbearably hot, forest fires exploding in the north, people too tired to even talk. Two weeks later the city is cloudy, fresh and moody.



Half million people, life style well above European average, sun through the clouds and a pretty waterfront. What some would call a good start.


At the end, this Lisbon time was about friends, about walking, about going up and down and up again. It was about sipping coffee with a bite of chocolate, and drinking white wine looking down towards the Ocean. No, that is not the Ocean, it is the Tagus that you are looking at.


Too short a time, it turned out. Enough to visit four or five miradores and the Belem Jeronimo's monastery and to climb the Arch of Augusta street to enjoy the view on Praca do Comercio. Not enough to visit all I wanted to visit at the slow pace we decided to keep.

And certainly not enough to get sick of eating pasteis. Not even close to that.

Luna Caprese

Capri is a place which does not really exists outside our fantasies. For this reason it is a place where you can do things you would not do in real life.

In Capri a pretty girl walks down the streets with a white linen dress and a wreath of flowers in her hair. A restaurant charges 75 euros for "service" and specifies that tip is not included. One finds herself pushed on a stage to do the "mossa" move. A beautiful woman makes a friend very happy, at least for a day or two.

But all of this never really happened, all of this is nothing more than a story to tell. And tomorrow it will not exist any longer.

Worldcup in Barcelona

The last time in Barcelona is not a good memory. Not Barcelona's fault. She was just the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or maybe I should not have been there. Or perhaps I was precisely supposed to be there, just to be able to endure the toughest moment in my life which would come a few days later.

But not this year. This year Barcelona carries no heavy weight, just suntanning, good food, enjoying friends. Oh yes, and the football world cup. Spain has not done too well this time, but in Barcelona some people may actually be rooting for Holland, so no big deal.

We are based in the Olympic Village (rather than some nice barrio) with easier access to the Barceloneta beaches. Priorities.
This time there is no Heineken Ice Bar on the beach to give us funny stories to recount years later. This is the time of the Rock bar with true Catalans and 70's music in Gracia, Opium with thousand drunk foreigners in Barceloneta, beach bar with big screen to watch Brazil and Holland before sunset, Pakistanis selling drinks illegally on the beach.

And "bomba" tapas for good memory.