the ocean

We made it to Lisbon. Barely. We had a five-hour layover in Toronto, where I got so bored I actually chose to do work, followed by a six-hour flight best characterized by the anti-mask shenanigans of one particularly drunk old man in a vest. I genuinely feared they might turn the plane back around, and I had no desire to attend my friend's Portuguese wedding remotely from Toronto. But we got through it, and did a full day of tourism on two hours of sleep and no shower.

Portugal is pretty, and they have lots of cool old castles and such. They don't always seem thrilled when you speak English (and I don't blame them) and they have an intense aversion to anything over a 20 Euro bill. We had to go to four different stores to get a 50 broken, while our mini-cab driver followed us disapprovingly. They also hide their bathrooms zealously and on some occasions even charge for the privilege. While I don't love to pay, I can't deny there is value there.

More to come. Maybe not until I get back, but we'll see. I have to rest my feet occasionally.