Students in their black chanting and marching,

Before the big night out

extra chilli - green

Porto to Lisbon

Farewell Porto hello Lisbon

Saturday night and Sunday there were thousands of students in identical suits and stockings and black gowns all over Porto. Some chanting political slogans and gathering outside University Admin and the Town Hall and others just gathering for some student graduation related musical event, all a part of a ceremonial burning of their faculty ribbons, Queima das Fitas. 

After we'd been to a Brazilian jazz concert we braved bulk students in black, all with countless bottles of alcohol, spilling in and out the metro and running up against railway police for (it would seem too often) failing to validate their tickets. Then when we it got back to our hotel there was a crowd of students, mostly young women, all standing very still out the front.  It looked like was some kind of stand off, possibly a ritual "hazing" of some sort. But nothing much happened, so we went to bed.

 

In the morning there were students still dressed in their formal black having breakfast with their families, or being photographed proudly with them while gathering in big numbers outside the town hall for a ceremony. 

There were also a lot of other people asking for money around Porto, at outdoor restaurant tables and ATMs (doing their best to insist,  with us tourists) and more evidence of people sleeping in streets than we saw in Spain.   With nests of cardboard and blankets on the steps of closed shops.

I don't know if that says anything about hardship or about the different parts of Spain and Portugal that we are seeing, because Porto seems quite rough and ready, with lots of graffiti, and roadwork everywhere, so it may also be a question of tolerance.

On the other hand, the scale of this student event, and the presence of families everywhere did make us imagine there's an increased reason for sticking to education when there are so few jobs out in the market place.

Sunday afternoon we arrived in Lisbon to lodgings in the heart of the tourism square. Lots of beer, mementos and ice cream going on. We couldn't find a shop that sold bananas, milk and water until we were led to one by a religious procession involving incense, marching bands and lavender.

Then went to a recommended Indian restaurant, Tamarind, which was delicious. We were reassured that the food WASN'T spicy. We asked for extra chilli!  The chilli world tour goes on.

Anyway, the crisis here, for this restaurant, is a shift from 70 customers a night to 11. Melbourne, where one of them did her Masters, is looking good. 

The cheap fish cafe down the road was full.

We went for an after dinner walk to find a set of angels  painted on a wall that Grette had seen on the way in from Porto. One has an anarchist 'A' on its chest, another a crescent moon, then a star of David, a cross, and a five point star. And all making the peace sign. Also saw a graffiti slogan incorporating the 'A' which referred to essence and purity. Not sure how that fits together.

From the Monastery of St Estaban of America

An out of sequence post because I accidentally deleted the earlier version

when trying to add a cation; viz: more useful comments from the walls of Spain. 

This one from Salamanca. 

A tourist's work is never done

There is this obligation to eat something typical or local or unfamiliar when traveling. the mackerel with steamed potatoes and green sauce last night was a Highlight.(as was for a different reason the piri piri oil that came with Grette's rotisserie chicken.. see photo below) However I have savored a couple of less satisfying lunches: Yesterday, at a waterfront cafe looking out to the charming old city centre I  tried the menu del dia's beans and meats dish, in which the black beans were very hard and beanie and the various meets chewy and fatty and piggy. Today a version of the local fast food speciality "francesinha",which is a sausage, beef and sweet ham sandwich covered in melted cheese: in a beer and tomato sauce and Served with beer and chips. Which could have done with some chilli, dare I say. And yes, I'm not likely to run across this meal anywhere else. so I'm not complaining.

We also had chocolate and port at one one of the more famous port houses across the river yesterday too, but that was perhaps less a duty to the cause of tourism.

I'd like to put on the record the very obvious statement that it's tiring being a tourist. All that walking and buying and  eating. And the risks... I get so distressed when I don't find the most typical, or tasty or locally hip cafe or when we spend extra precious leg strength climbing the wrong hills, or fail to find an insight into local life or culture.

One of the highlights yesterday was to chance upon a puppet museum,  which showed a DVD of highlights of the Marionette Company of Porto's shows over the past thirty years  plus the puppets and designs from at least ten shows. There is a real power and art in making the inanimate live.  Plus it was great to come into contact with something that is not art and history through the Church.

The puppet company is still going, but struggling now with a 62% cut in public funding. Austerity and all that. This year's show is a re-staging of their fairy recent contemporary take on Cinderella. There are many people who could do with a few fairy tales right now one would think.  Or is that what has been going on?

Today our highlight was a nice quiet time at the beach. Doing, in fact, what locals might do. We've moved from cold spring to war spring, and while Grette and I paddled in the cold Atlantic and  protected ourselves from sunburn, there are quite a few people here, as in Bondi, very committed to the tan.

And a Brazilian contemporary jazz concert tonight.

Piri Piri chilli oil with the barbecue chicken

Grette is pouring some chilli rich piri piri oil onto her

Dinner last night

Microtheatre and micromeals

Last night Grette and I went to see "Microtheatre for money" which is a theatre venue in the middle of the Madrid red light area with a bar and five small performance spaces in which small theatre groups perform 15 minute shows for four euros each.

After a drink and a bite to eat we saw an entertaining take on youthful ambition in Madrid, (with us the audience being variously colleagues, housemates and city buildings) and then after a cup of tea we saw a gritty street corner dialogue between jazz musicians who didn't play music and who we couldn't quite understand.

It is a great format for the modern market , with the youngish evening out theatre types almost always prepared to spend money on food and drink, and like most of us fairly happy to risk a small amount of money and fifteen minutes (if no more!)  on a piece of theatre.  It's hard work for theatre makers but they'd be used to that.. five shows a night would be sorts fun but really tiring, and they'd make  - maybe -100 euro a performance night.

The secret, as in all these innovative settings, is to make good piece of theatre.

Then tonight in Salamnca we went to great tapas bar called Tapas 2.0 which had some new takes on the tapas format (a Chinese dumpling of pigs tail; wok fried veg with caramelized goats' cheese; tempura asparagus and prawns; before a chocolate, pepper and coffee log with raspberry sorbet) which goes to show what focussing on a short concentration span can do.

Tapas are a Spanish invention, and "Microteatro por dinero" (to give it its Spanish title) is kind of tapas theatre. It still allows people the chance to talk and drink as well as appreciate something inventive and even profound.

It might just work in Australia. Well, during a summer of festival season, at least.