I think that I’ll look to have a notebook beside my bed to record the dreams that I have. I seem to forget them so quickly and easily once I am awake. Last night I had a dream about my late dad that I wanted to tell my mother about. I can’t do that now. The dream has vanished into the ether.
Some more images from last week’s visit to Estremoz Saturday market.
Hopefully I’m not posting some political or subversive message here? “Go with the flow,” would suggest not. Spotted while in Lisbon.
Well apparently the sun is rising right now…7:54am. Perhaps it’s time to get up? Portugal seems to have this effect on me. I can’t get up?!
I don’t receive a lot of eyes on my website, but views in the last few days had dropped to zero…or so it seemed (I subscribe to @vincent’s wonderful Tinylytics service). I was pottering around on the backend of Micro.blog yesterday morning and found out that somewhere along the line my Tinylytics settings had disappeared. I’m guessing that they got lost in a recent update, and I didn’t think to check on them. A reminder to myself going forward to check the settings of Micro.blog plugins that I update.
I returned home yesterday from a couple of days in Lisbon with an unplanned cache - four books. Three of them came from a new discovery, a small bookshop that only carries books in English, Salted Books. The shop has only been open for a month, but apparently they are doing very well. Long may that continue.
While I was looking through their selection of books, there was a clattering of bottles going on behind the counter. I commented to the woman serving that it sounded as though she was cleaning up after a party. She said, “no,” but was preparing for a party that night and offered an invitation. Sadly we would have been back on the road home by that time. But if you are in Lisbon in search of an English language book, I would encourage you to check them out. Kids and young readers are also catered for.
When to use a VPN and when not to, that is the question?
So here I am, sitting in my hotel room in Lisbon. I am on the hotel’s WiFi network. I do not have a VPN fired up. In fact most of the time I do not use a VPN. When I do it is Mullvad. I did use Nord VPN but the longer contracts, it is possible to pay for Mullvad on a monthly basis, did not play well with my ambivalence towards using a VPN.
Why do I use a VPN? A good question with no clear answer. Maybe I have just read a bunch of articles that make reference to security and VPNs, and my just in case consciousness is pricked.
I’d be curious to learn if, when and why you use a VPN? If you use one, is it active all of the time or only under certain circumstances?
Back in a warm hotel room drying out clothes (the heating cranked up to dry out those clothes) after a good pizza and browsing books in a bookshop. I love a good bookshop, even if 99% of the books are in a language that I don’t understand. I still came out with a book…in a language that I understand. 📚 🍕
Well I just got a whole lot wetter than I thought. It is pouring here in Lisbon and I didn’t think that I would be dealing with wet clothes. It seems that I did not pack appropriately. The next 24 hours will be fun - squelch, squelch.
🚘 Heading to Lisbon today.
The fisherman returning home, or maybe he is on his way to the fishing grounds?
Walking around the market in Estremoz yesterday.
⛈️ Woah! Now it is coming down. We got home just in the nick of time. A meeting canceled, but I prefer to be back home than out on the road in this. Be safe anyone who is out and about.
Today I made a pilgrimage to Nazaré, the home in Portugal of big wave surfing, and where the biggest wave ever to be surfed was surfed.
Even though I don’t surf, I am surrounded by family and friends who do. I live on Maui where surfers from all over the world come to practice their sport, and just down the road from us is Jaws, the home in Hawaii of big wave surfing. It would not have felt right not to come to Nazaré. I was so close.
Although there were no big waves today, I could feel the power of the ocean below the lighthouse that marks the location where the waves break. The overcast day, strong winds (so strong that I was wary about getting too close to the small wall that served as a barrier between me and the rocks below, for fear of being blown over), and the vast expanse of open ocean stretching to the north, south, and west to the distant horizon, only added to that sense of foreboding power. Although I don’t follow the sport too closely, I have deep admiration for those who do pit themselves against these giants.
Next stop America. The view yesterday from Europe’s most westerly point, Cabo da Roca in Portugal.
We found ourselves in Cascais around lunchtime. The restaurants were closed, opening in forty minutes, and it was raining. So we went for a walk, as you do when it’s raining, and found a bookshop. If my stomach hadn’t been rumbling and there wasn’t a destination to reach after lunch, that bookshop would have been a great place to spend a wet afternoon.
Can anyone help me here? These are the opening hours of a nearby restaurant in Portugal. What do the little “a” stand for/mean?
3ª a Sábado: 12h às 15h | 19h às 22h
Domingo e 2ª: Encerrada
This from writer and historian Heather Cox-Richardson,
The nights I post a picture are often harder for me than the nights I write. I am not a visual artist, and so I struggle for way too long over what picture to post and then struggle even longer over how to caption the image I choose.
I can take many photos, but never post them, or take an age to do so, as I fuss over which one to pick and whether it needs to be edited.
🥱 8:30am and I am just getting up. I never do that, this late in the morning, until I have just done so. I was tired...still feel that way. A slow Sunday ahead?