That is to say"Welcome to Lisbon"in the local lingo. So far so good. We have spent a couple of days wandering around the cultural heart of the city. Food terribly greasy, but we have managed to find this tiny little place hidden away in the backstreets where they serve cheese and onion crisps and Watney's Red Barrel. Does that ring any bells? Sorry, I couldn't help it! Although strictly speaking Eric Idle was referring to the Costa Brava in Spain.
I am having real trouble loading photos from my camera using this ancient laptop running Windows 7, in fact the whole Blogger thing is geriatric, like its user. Have managed until now, but I should have sorted it before we left. Its a giant plot to force me to use Facetube or whatever, and that will happen just after Hell freezes over. So maybe we'll have a slide night at my place when I get home, if I can find the old Bell and Howell projector. Meanwhile, I shall continue to make my whimsical observations in text whenever I get the opportunity.
One thing I can tell you already is that having a business selling bras in Lisbon would be about as lucrative as having a lawn mowing round in the Sahara.
Reminds me of sitting on the Barr Smith Lawns at Uni, having a lunchtime perv and hoping for a cold snap!
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