Portugal Mega-Post

Hi to you. I've just returned from Portugal. I've been dreaming about that place for years, ever since I saw a picture of Lisbon—a whitewashed and red-roofed city tumbling down to the sea.

The place/experience/trip was epic as hoped. Sure, I submitted some formal complaints to the ether about airports, customs, and all the rude dickheads throughout. The shitty plane food. The hours of standing in line, as we all must, to fly somewhere. But physical acts of traveling aside, Portugal was, as they say, dreamy. Magnificent empty beaches. Tidy blue-and-white buildings. Olives. Bread. Wine. Sunshine everyday, everywhere, all the time.

A note about "tourism": Personally, I travel somewhere for the there-ness. With the exception of Lisbon, Portugal was delightfully un-touristy, and, for that matter, un-crowded. We had room to breathe—really see/feel/taste what was going on in the place. This led to 2 realizations: 1) the U.S. is very crowded, and 2), the tourism industry kind of benefits the economy at the expense of the culture. Like, AirBnB brings in money, but it displaces people. I mean, the fairytale jalopy buildings of old-town Lisbon were filled, not with Portuguese people, but rather with foreigners who, like us, were Air-BnBing their way through the country. Truth be told, I peeped anti-AirBnB graffiti all around the city. I'm not sure exactly what I think. Big ups to considering yourself (like I try to!) a Traveler vs. a Tourist—but I came home with a gloomy feeling that the cultural spirit of a community is a lot more fragile than we think.

Medieval fortifications overlooking the sea. All the Portuguese castles had that sickest ocean views. "Easier to defend," the ancients claimed, but we all know the real truth ...

The pretty beaches in Peniche with the nicest little waves. Here is were I went surfing, bravely but poorly.

We took a wee day trip to Porto, a city in the North (where, obvi, port wine was born). I loved this place. It's fairly untouched by time. Basically, you're on the set of a Shakespeare at all times.

Medieval stairmaster! See ya, vacation calories.

Porto azulejos. Painted tile game on point.

Sundown on my birthday in Ereicera. Gold star emoji on this scene right here!

Palace hunting in Sintra. Yep, another castle with an epic view.

As a settlement, Lisbon has been around for 3,000-odd years. I'm a student of history, and I was super in awe of the cultural and archaeological mishmash. Phoenicians. Romans. Visigoths. Moors. Celts. Christians. See the pic below—it's all layered in there like a cake!

Cotton candy sunsets in Lisbon, as seen from our attic apartment.

Stone-cold sightseers. Behind us, a statue of a prince, Lisbon city center, and the Tejo river. Got it? Got it. Now let's all go drink a beer.

After a laborious week of avoiding octopus tentacles out in the fishing villages, we came into city and our veggie-minded stomachs were rewarded.

No-fucks-given parking situations everywhere you turned your head.

Ciao Portugal! Obrigado.

Birth-Day In The Life

When you're not really in a celebratory mood, I find the best place to celebrate your birthday is far away. That way, the simple act of living is a kind of observance, both unique and memorable. As it happens, we'd planned a trip to Portugal a few months ago, and that's where I was on Friday—the anniversary of my birth.

Upon arrival, we were in another world, a sunny, serene place where the people are forever in sandals, forever tan, forever gesticulating happily during conversation and forever ready to laugh with you, at you.

All I did on my birthday was slow down. The things I enjoyed most were as follows: The fairytale peach nectar we spread on our fresh-baked rolls as we drank coffee with the sun streaming down. The empty beach with the perfect aquamarine barrels. Mesmerizing. I could watch them forever and ever—the deepest, truest meditation. A respectable glass of cool, bubbly wine on an a modest wooden deck. The prettiest pink sunset—a little show just for me, as far as I'm concerned.

Favorites 9.7.16

The forest a long time after a fire. It's my new favorite color palette. Instead of a verdant shading canopy, there's just the bleached bones of trees, the sky, and plenty of sunlight to make the wildflowers go all crazy.

A wagging dog tail. Simple, contagious joy. Don't take it for granted, as we aren't guaranteed shit.

Not 4X4ing in a VW Jetta. When faced with a rugged bumpy expanse that's more rock than road, it's quite lovely to drive up it with a proper 4X4 vehicle. Maybe a truck? Something with ample clearance and suspension. Anything but a VW Jetta with a predisposition for tire problems.

The place where fall and summer meet. A liminal time, full of potential energy. One coolish morning, one shaft of sunlight, one gust of wind can completely change the day's seasonal identity. Is it summer? No wait it's fall. Now summer again.

Lake Life

Just looking at these pictures makes me feel good. They're from my trip to Lake Powell in Southern Utah last week. It was a red-dust playground of motorboats cutting the glassy water. We drove through 3 states to get there—way out to the very middle of the desert, but the long hours on the straight, hot roads were worth it. As said elsewhere, I love the southwest. The desert is elegant, beautiful and harsh. It was a magical trip.

1. 3 a.m. scenic pee. My child-sized bladder did me good service by waking me every night at the calmest, darkest hour, when the Milky Way burned bright overhead and the lake was so black, so still that it looked like just another star-spangled sky.

2. Lunch beer. As a bonafide lightweight, I don't normally do lunch beers, but on vacation, on the boat, in the heat, on the lake, a very cold beer is the only thing you can possibly drink with your sandwich.

3. Houseboats. RVs on the water! What a concept. They seem kinda tricky to maneuver though, so don't ask me to drive yours.

4. Kids in the water. A couple of 12 year olds, my nephew and his friend, spent every second in the lake. Splashing, swimming, sliding, dunking, diving, flipping, flopping, etc, etc. It made me very happy.

5. A dusk swim. Every night I slipped in the water right at purple dusk in order to wash off the day's sweat and sand so as not have to sleep in my own filth. During this hushed time, I could float on my back in the silver water and stare up at the clouds turned pink in the fading light.

  

Tough Stuff

I wanted to give you a post about a serene trek along a lush river to a fairytale campsite, but that would've been for the hike we thought we were going on. Instead, we unexpectedly summited a freaking mountain.

You see, a plan was hatched for the holiday weekend, supplies were quickly purchased, and bags were haphazardly packed. It was, as they say, "no big deal." Except it was. We hadn't read the trail description carefully. We didn't know what we were getting into. This trail, it went uphill, steeply, relentlessly. We had too many pounds on our backs, but not enough water. I gave most of mine to the dog, as he shouldn't suffer for my own dumbness. Although the path was busily sun dappled and views of the volcanoes emerged from the forest, we were all in pain. One hour turned into five, and up we still went ...

Spoiler alert! The story ends with us making it to the fairytale mountain lake. We did not die. We did not give up.

Instead of a glorification of escaping to nature, then, this post is a glorification of doing tough stuff. Like, it's okay when things are hard. It's okay to dig deep. We walked up the side of a mountain, but we felt like we conquered the world. Had we known how bad it'd hurt, would we have undertaken this mission? Maybe not. But maybe, as modern humans, we are too free to choose.