de tudo um pouco

Consulado Geral do Brasil em Londres, parte II

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 21:46:00 +0000

Parece que eu não sou a única pessoa a perder a paciência com o Consulado Geral do Brasil em Londres. Após minha experiência tentando obter informações sobre como proceder para transferir meu título eleitoral, o seguinte relato é mais um exemplo da incompetência e descaso tão freqüentes nos serviços prestados pelo Consulado e, o que é pior, o jeito que agem como se essas desaventuras fossem a coisa mais natural do mundo.

No Telefone com o Consulado Brasileiro em Londres

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 19:45:00 +0000

Hoje no telefone com o Consulado Geral do Brasil em Londres:

- Oi.
- Alô, posso falar com Tomomi?
- Oi. (silêncio) É, aqui é a Tomomi.
- Tomomi, me passaram seu telefone para informações sobre 2a via de Dispensa Militar
- Ah.
- Eu queria saber como posso emitir a 2a via.
- Onde você se alistou?
- No Brasil, em Florianópolis.
- Ah.

(silêncio)

- Então, como posso emitir a segunda via?
- Tem que fazer aqui mesmo.

(fecho os olhos e respiro fundo)

- Sim, eu queria saber qual o procedimento para emitir a 2a via. Que documentos eu preciso?
- É, você vem aqui né, preenche a ficha, e a gente manda pro Brasil.
- E quanto tempo demora? Na verdade, o que eu quero é emitir meu título de eleitor em Londres, mas fui informado que primeiro preciso de comprovante de de dispensa militar.
- É, mas com a ficha já dá, né.

(silêncio. estou confuso)

- Posso solicitar as duas coisas ao mesmo tempo então? O título e a 2a via de dispensa militar?

(silêncio)

- É... Deve dar né.
- Você tem certeza? Posso solicitar os dois ao mesmo tempo?
- Você vem aqui e fala comigo. Mas tem muita gente agora.
- Eu entro na fila geral do consulado, então? Ou posso procurar você diretamente?
- É, mas tá meio cheio né, é a última semana.
- Então posso ir até o consulado e procurar você diretamente?
- É, fala pro pessoal lá que é no 2o andar, número 9. Mas tem muita gente na fila né, tá bem cheio.
- Entro na fila pra falar com você, então?
- Entra na fila geral lá onde tá todo mundo, fala pro pessoal lá que você veio ver a Tomomi.
- E você pode solicitar o título pra mim também?
- É... Não sei né.
- Então também tenho que pegar a outra fila pra fazer o título?
- Hmmmm. (pausa) Acho que sim... Você vem aqui e a gente vê né.

(click)

Não sei o que o pessoal do Consulado Geral anda fumando, mas eu preciso de um pouco para conseguir entrar na conversa. Essa pessoa acima, senhoras e senhores, é uma funcionária do Consulado Geral do Brasil em Londres. Quiçá uma diplomata!

Eu liguei pedindo uma informação. Uma informação simples, diga-se de passagem. Informação que eu esperava encontrar no website do consulado. O problema é que deve existir uma lei brasileira proibindo navegação intuitiva e exigindo linguagem confusa e rebuscada nos sites de órgãos do governo. Imagino que há alguma exceção que faz essa regra, mas o website do Consulado Geral do Brasil em Londres não é esta exceção.

Então tive que ligar pedindo informações. Desliguei o telefone mais confuso ainda. Pelo menos a conversa rendeu um post nete blog.

At last, Paris

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:01:00 +0000

First impressions. Busy, like London, but it's got that happy Latin/African feel to it and all the shit that comes along with it. It's dirty and disorganised, but so much more charming and beautiful.

All that I heard is true. Parisians really don't like speaking English to you if they can avoid it (even though they might know it), except those closely working with tourists, as it's easy to understand. A polite "Do you speak English?" with a huge smile on the side will likely be met with scorn. Good time to put my Français to good use then!

Aside from the cold, the lousy coffee, and the alarmingly large number of tourists, Paris was great. Who wouldn't like to spend their days walking around the quaint little streets of Montmartre, going from boulangerie to museum to café to the Champs Élysées to fromagerie and back to a restaurant for some tasty magré de canard? Also, I don't know why people complain about the service in France though, as we got great (albeit a bit slow) service. Waiters would even speak English to us! Best of all, no tipping, which I love as there is no need to work out whether the waiter deserves to get 10%, 12.5%, 20%, or god knows what.

The Louvre was amazing and apparently another 10,000 other tourists agreed with me. It's a truly impressive building and you should really lose yourself there for days if you want to do it justice. Alas, the day I was there the place was packed beyond belief. It took us over one hour just to get in through the door. Everyone had to queue next to the main "attractions". The Mona Lisa in particular had so many overly excited people around it holding up their cameras above the crowd that the room had a Leicester Square blockbuster premier feel, as if La Gioconda herself had jumped out of the frame and was walking down the red carpet. Surreal. Damn you, Dan Brown and all your bad writing.

All in all though, it was a week of very good food and great sightseeing despite the cold. Paris does live up the hype and I certainly look forward to going back there when it’s warmer and I can walk the Parisian streets leisurely and not worry about the stupid freezing wind in my face.

2009 on books

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 00:29:00 +0000

2009 was a good year for me, at least literature wise! With well over one hour per day in the London underground with not much else to do, I found books to be the main motivation for riding the tube every day. That, and the fact that I need to get to work and make a living, of course.

At some stage I realised I was going through lots more books than I used to in the past few years, so I decided to start keeping track of what I was reading. If for no other reason, at least to have a permanent record here that I can always go back to (blessed be the permalinks)

So here is the list, more or less in chronological order.

The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold
Siddharta, by Hermann Hesse
Surfacing, by Margaret Atwood
The Rainmaker, by John Grisham
Gang Leader For a Day, by Sudhir Venkatesh
The Complete Guide to Capital Markets for Quantitative Professionals, by Alex Kuznetsov (don’t ask)
The God of Small Things, by Arundhati Roy (by far the best read of the year for me. Amazing book)
The Reluctant Fundamentalist, by Mohsin Hamid
Laowai, by Sônia Bridi
Single & Single, by John le Carré
The Shining, by Stephen King
A Farewell To Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
Fingersmith, by Sarah Waters
The White Tiger, by Aravind Adiga
Terrorist, by John Updike
Leite Derramado, by Chico Buarque
The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins
number9dream, by David Mitchell
Nocturnes, by Kazuo Ishiguro

Meanwhile, I’m already working my way through my 2010 list with The Year of the Flood, another Margaret Atwood (can’t help it, I love the woman)

Missing

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 21:05:00 +0000

Coffee walk to Sierra with Warner and having the barista already know what we want.

Caramel slice from Columbus Coffee after lunch.

Getting takeaways from Raviz on Indian lunch day on Thursdays.

Lunch bunch walk to Burger Fuel and eating at the park, followed by kicking some ball around before returning to work all sweaty.

Badminton after work.

Yum cha at KK or Enjoy Inn.

Driving to work early morning on Campbell Road listening useless radio shows.

Organising DNUG meetings, setting it up, having people over, chatting, having pizza, and tidying up afterwards.

Working late nights and having the whole building to myself.

Friday evening chats with Joe.

Coruba & Cola and chips on Friday evenings.

Driving to and from the airport.

Getting Singapore noodles takeaway from that Chinese joint with Jacqui.

My team.

Having Sheba come around with that contagious smile of hers.

Going to the movies at Sylvia Park.

Lunch bunch.

Treasure hunts, etc.

Sunny Sundays just chillin’ at One Tree Hill

Talking shit on communicator with Sasanka and Moses.

Piha and Kare-kare.

Summertime BBQ with Thiago, Karla, and Angel.

Labour weekend away on a house by the beach with the German crowd.

Road trips to Mt Ruapehu and spend the entire day snowboarding.

The waterfront.

Hanging out with Sasanka’s Sri Lankan crowd.

My ridiculously tiny red Clio.

The Thunder Chickens!

Training for the Auckland Half with Andrew and Szu-yu around the Panmure Basin.

Chatting to Terryll at reception.

Awkward goodbye speeches and birthday cakes.

The film festival.

Drive to Parnell or Ponsonby for Sunday brunch.

Our Epsom flat.

TFS – LGW

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 08:18:00 +0000

(sigh)

Tenerife

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 08:16:00 +0000

The bells in the tiny church of La Caleta are chiming 8 o'clock. Once they go silent, all I can hear is the distant muffled sound of Wednesday evening traffic in the avenue below, where the digital thermometer I've been watching all week is still hesitating to venture below the 26 degree mark.

Sitting here on the hotel balcony, feet up, watermelon juice to one side, Hemingway to the other, I can see the ocean waters as if lying still and on the horizon, the last few sun rays of the day shining through the rain falling over our neighbour, La Gomera island.
That pretty much sums it up. Life in Tenerife I mean. Or, life as a tourist, I should say.

Bar a walk to the local shop to stock up on mineral water and the odd visit to the nearby beaches, our routine here consisted pretty much of buffet breakfasts, lying by the water all day, and in the evenings walking down to the waterfront at Playa del Duque for a seafood dinner (papas arrugadas on the side, of course). Or beautiful Morrocan food and sweet mint tea at the Paris Marrakech.

I know that's pretty sad, and that I should have made an effort to leave the 1 mile radius around the resort to explore the island's nature and local culture. But when you live in cold and grey London, quarantined from the sunshine and the ocean, any second you can spend at the beach or by the pool is a treasured one.

But six days relaxing by the pool in this paradise island didn't feel like much, really. Time went by so fast and soon it will be time to go back to being squished in the tube at morning rush hour.

Oh wait. The sun is now coming down from behind the clouds in what is shaping up to be an amazing sunshine. It is our last day in Tenerife and it wants to say goodbye properly.

I will miss you too, Sunshine. Hasta luego.

LGW - TFS

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 08:11:00 +0000

Amazingly uneventful flight from London to Tenerife South. Only down side is that we had to wake up just past 3 in the morning to be at Gatwick in time for check-in.

Damn no-frills airlines, why do they only allow a single piece of carry on per person? Particularly tricky for women I suppose. And what if I am carrying a water bottle, or a plastic bag with some snacks, does that count as a second carry on? Do I need to dispatch my water bottle at the check-in counter??

Deep breath... count to ten... we're finally in Tenerife. Stunning view from the hotel. I'm relaxed already. Summer is finally here. Or, more appropriately: Summer, I'm finally here!

Cambridge photos

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 19:53:00 +0000

Gosh it’s been months we were there but I finally got around to putting the photos up on Flickr. Just a day trip to Cambridge, nice little town.

Sneak preview below. You can see all the photos here.

Slow Change

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 20:12:00 +0000

Surreal experience at the Sri Lanka High Commission today.

After being greeted by a metal detector (which I already expected) I walk into this tiny lobby where about 30 people were queuing up in no particular order hoping to reach one of the reception counters. Which one I should go to wasn’t exactly clear, as counters 1 and 3 had a paper sign out of a dot matrix printer that said, respectively, “Passport Renewals” and “Birth/Death Certificates”, none of which were the purpose of this particular visit, so I decided to push my way around to counter number 2 which read “Please Pay Here”.

The place was so hot it might as well have been a sauna. A tiny third world oasis right in the middle of London – were it not for my formal work attire which made the whole experience miserable. But thinking about it now, if you come to London from Sri Lanka you probably don’t need an air conditioner even in the summer.

So after handing in my papers and paying for the visa fee, I am told to wait. After waiting there for a few minutes I’m thinking that they are probably going to process the visa on the spot and call me in for an interview as they are doing for most people waiting there. That would be good news, since the website says it takes a couple of days to issue the visa. Well, after 15 minutes of wait they come back with my change (£7) and a receipt – passport to be collected in two days. 15 minutes waiting for my change!! Feels just like home.

Summer

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 21:35:00 +0000

It's summer in London and this week temperatures are nearing 30 degrees. The overall feeling around the city is that of a natural disaster looming. Public announcements in the underground give instructions as to what to do in case someone falls ill and advise people to carry water bottles in the tube. The city council is urging businesses to relax the dress code and allow people to wear shorts to work. The end of the world is near, etc.

At first I found it all very amusing. But just try walking onto an overcrowded tube in this heat during rush hour whilst wearing a suit and you will start taking the announcements seriously pretty fast.
It's not that bad in the morning, but by 4 p.m. all the heat emanating from each of the 4 million souls that travel on the underground every day has worked things up to such a state that you are properly steamed by the time you leave the train.

Other than that, I don't mind the heat. It's good for once going outside without carrying a coat. And a spending a sunny afternoon at the local park is worth all those hours sweating in the underground sauna.

Belgium Photos

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 21:19:00 +0000

Photos of our three day trip to Belgium are finally online.

Below is a little preview, check it out here for all the photos of Brussels and Bruges: http://www.flickr.com/photos/meurer/sets/72157617261173017/

MUC – LHR

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 18:52:00 +0000

Another gorgeous day in Munich. I wake up early and leave by myself to explore the city one more time. It’s 7:30 a.m. on Easter Monday and the city is very quiet. The Englischer Gartens, where just two days ago thousands of people were enjoying the sun in the park is now virtually deserted bar a handful of more athletic types going for a run or walking their dogs, or both.

Even at Marienplatz, Munich’s tourist hub, only a few earlybird tourists venture out for some photos and are rewarded by beautiful light as the sun comes up over the Residenz. It’s just after 9 a.m. when the first café opens. Unfortunately it’s time to go now.

Our last meal is at Munich Airport, but not before I load my backpack with €20 worth of German chocolate. As for lunch, we’re spoilt for choice, really. Aside from the standard food courts, there is an open square between terminals 1 and 2 with shops, bars, and restaurants. We go for traditional German food (thankfully, for the last time – there’s just so much sausage and sauerkraut one can handle over a couple of days) I just realised that we waited for our flight for about three hours but time just flew by! I certainly didn’t mind spending time at the Munich Airport. As far as airports go, this is a good one to hang out at. Plus, things are so effortless and organised. Kudos to the Germans.

Landing in London in about two hours. Home sweet home.

Crazy man’s castle

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 18:50:00 +0000

Today we went southwest to Neuschwanstein to see one of the world most famous castles. Certainly Germany’s most famous one. I’ve wanted to come here for a very long time, even before I set off on my travels five years ago.

Neuschwanstein. Now there’s a mouthful. Why to Germans have to make it so damn hard? I spent the best part of our two hour train ride too Füssen trying to get the pronunciation just right and failed miserably. I mean, I sort of get it: neu… schwan… stein. I just can’t say it all in one go. But I digress.

As far as castles go, this one is actually quite new. It was built in the late 19th century by the king Ludwig II of Bavaria. Well not really. It was in fact built by a bunch of slaves whose names sadly never made into history. It is a homage to Wagner, the king’s favourite composer, who ended up never setting foot in the palace.

The matter of fact is that the castle is simply fantastic. It sits high on the top of a mountain with breathtaking views from all of its windows. It is apparently the most photographed building in Germany but it’s the interior, where photography is prohibited, that makes it truly worth the visit. The architecture and decoration of the few rooms that were actually completed before the king died are so fairytale-like and ridiculously over the top that they could only be the work of a narcissistic lunatic. Gold plated walls, meticulously painted ceilings, furniture sculpted from solid wood, columns in the shape of palm trees, and swans, lots of swans. Ludwig was in fact declared insane and died under very suspicious circumstances before most rooms in the palace could be completed.

Great day trip. Could have been much shorter though, had we known thousands of people around Bavaria would have the same idea. We ended up queuing for tickets, and having to wait around for the best part of the day before it was our turn to start the tour.

LHR – MUC

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 20:19:00 +0000

I’m crossing international borders for the second time in less than a month. But it’s the longest weekend of the year and we had to go somewhere! And I’m glad I did. As it turned out, the weather in the UK turned to custard over the weekend and we were greeted by gorgeous sunshine and temperature in the late teens as soon as we set foot in Germany.

Very good first impressions of Munich. Very clean and tidy, everything is organised to the extreme, and people are very polite. That is, unless you get caught walking on the bicycle lanes in which case you will get yelled at for being a bad pedestrian, even if you are clearly a tourist who is completely lost and was obviously not raised in a country where people use bikes for getting around and not only exercising.

We just dropped our bags at the hotel and went off to explore the city. Marienplatz was the obvious first stop, and surprisingly pleasant (subtler, less crowded, and and not as touristy as Brussels’s Grand Place) We stopped at a restaurant and sat outside to have some bratwurst and sauerkraut in the sun.

After that we were walking aimlessly around Munich but ended up finding all the good spots by pure chance: Residenz which was undergoing restorations for the most part but is still an impressive palace. Just a short walk away were the Englischer Gartens, an awesome park where half the population of Munich was enjoying the sunshine. Families, couples, groups of teenagers, people playing sports, naked guys, etc. Yes, you heard me: middle-aged men sunbathing in the park as they came into the world -- just in case I wasn’t sure I was really in Germany.

I’ve seen way too much for one day. Time to get back to the hotel and get some sleep.

Brussels – Midi – St Pancras

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 22:11:00 +0000

Last night we got the best possible news: checkout wasn't until 5 pm. Bliss! That meant we could sleep in, have a late breakfast, and still do some sightseeing. Alas, I was still feeling lousy and had a hard time getting out of bed. Not to mention having breakfast.

But we still hadn't seen Brussels in the daytime so today we set off to Grand Place for some more medieval architecture and chocolate shopping: I was determined to gorge myself on Belgium chocolate, even if I had to do it in London a week later!

After a short walk around the European District, where the European Council and Parliament are located, we took the metro back to the hotel where Grazi had some lunch and I had a pineapple juice.

Then we only had time to pack our bags, head to the station, and in a few hours we were home in southwest London! Don’t you just love Europe?

All in all, the trip to Belgium was good fun but it’s not necessarily a place I’d be back to in a hurry. There’s still so much else to see…….

Bruges - Brugge

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 22:38:00 +0000

Bruges is like Disneyland for grown ups. A fairy tale-like town packed with hordes of tourists queuing up for attractions and food. And chocolate. LOTS of chocolate. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I can't help but think that the main parts of town have lost their authenticity. The mains streets, much like London and Paris, have been taken over by major designer brands. The town's two main squares, Markt and Burg, are so overwhelmingly crowded with tourists that you wonder whether they are the main attraction, and not the amazing historic buildings.

Wander off the main popular sites, though, and Bruges will reveal its true charm. Just a few blocks away from the main squares the streets and canals are surprisingly quiet and gorgeous to look at. I don't know how they do it, but the entire town is kept exceptionally clean and well preserved. It's like it was built yesterday.

Even wanting to steer clear of the hordes of tourists, the two main squares are must sees. We particularly liked the Basilica of the Holy Blood, a tiny church right on Burg square, which is said to hold a vial of blood from the man himself. We heard it got really crowded during the day so we headed straight there from the train station and even at around 10:30 there were only a handful of people in the church. Cute church, and the whole thing about it housing the blood of Christ does give the place a different vibe.

We spent most of our time in Bruges wandering around random side streets and were rewarded with beautiful architecture, peaceful parks, and even managed to find a restaurant where the locals eat! Great food for a fraction of the price.

Something had to go wrong though. Around lunchtime I started to get really bad stomach pains which plagued me for the rest of the trip. I ended up not eating for the rest of the day as I couldn’t bear the thought of putting anything in my mouth. All that chocolate had my name written on it and I couldn’t have any of it. Mind you, this was the first time I ever got anything like this. I have had all kinds of street food from places like Bangkok and Sri Lanka and never had a problem. My first tummy bug had to be in Belgium, of all places.

St Pancras – Gare du Midi

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 21:57:00 +0000

First time crossing borders by land, how exciting! Well, that's not counting the time when my parents and I walked across the bridge to Paraguay from Foz do Iguacu a zillion years ago. But does Paraguay really count as another country? I don't think so.

Grazi and I meet at St Pancras International, each of us coming from different parts of the city. Me, from Victoria, only a few stops away. Her, from Knightsbridge, ditto via the Picadilly line. I can't get over how awesome public transport in London is. All tube stations lead to Rome. Well, not really. But you get what I mean.

Once there we grab a quick bite to eat and head straight to check-in. The check-in process is effortless (takes about 3 seconds), and there's no "no-liquids, no-hats, no-tweezers, no-paper clips, take-your-shoes-off-so-we-can-check-for-explosives" kind of policy you see in most airports nowadays. You arrive, slide your ticket in, show your passport, and off you go. So we get on this ridiculously long Eurostar train and a few minutes later we're heading to Brussels.

Travelling by train is so much better than by plane. It's quicker across short distances, there are no long waits or queues. Plus, it's more comfortable, you can appreciate the scenery, and you're not forced to watch awkward security demonstrations. And, check this out: I didn't need to show my passport when arriving in Belgium! If only they knew there was a Brazilian entering their country unnoticed...

Upon arriving the first thing you notice is how all signage is in both French and Dutch, which makes finding directions a bit confusing -- not to mention reading train timetables. After a few minutes trying to find out where to go and what kind of tickets we were supposed to buy, we embark on a quick tram ride to the hotel.

In our first night in Brussels we decide to head for the main (dare I say only) tourist destination in the city. Rue des Bouchers-Beenhouwerstraat is a veritable tourist trap. Lined with Greek, Italian, and seafood restaurants, waiters stand by the sidewalk trying to lure in anyone who walks by, Bangkok style. We decide one of the places has quite a reasonably priced four course menu, only to discover the menu isn't available. It happens a lot, apparently. We then settle for an Italian restaurant to have overpriced so-so spaghetti and half frozen lasagne.

After having a few treats from one of the countless chocolate shops around, we have had enough for today. An early morning and a long day are waiting us tomorrow -- heading to Bruges!

Hell freezes over

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 19:06:00 +0000

London woke up under 6 inches of snow today. And it still keeps coming. The roads were slippery, there were no buses, and the trains were all affected in some way. Half the city took the day off. Alas, not me. I’m lucky (?) enough to be able to work from home, so it was still a normal working day for me even if I was snowed in.

At lunchtime I wandered around to check out the snow and took some photos. The snow started falling last night. By this morning our street had become a winter wonderland:

This is the cemetery close to home. It soon became a playground for all the children who were off school!

Baron’s court station, where we take the tube every morning:

And last but not least, hell freezes over in Fulham

Photos of Portugal

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 01:37:00 +0000

I have just posted the photos of our Christmas holiday in Portugal to flickr:

To see all the photos, go here: http://tinyurl.com/93fa92

OPO - LGW

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 13:32:00 +0000

Over the past five days I had more than my share of bacalhau, coffee, pastéis de nata, and wine. Back to London for some detox.

Photos of Portugal are coming soon...

Porto

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 15:52:00 +0000

After two days in Portugal it was time to head into the heart of Porto, Portugal's second city and home of countless wineries dedicated to producing port wine (this is the only part of the world where port is made)

Porto didn't strike me as a very big place when we walked out of the train station. It was a beautiful view though: narrow brick paved streets stretching all the way to the river Douro, on both sides a single wall of very old Portuguese style buildings which didn't leave much room for the sunlight to come through, giving the city an almost medieval look.

As soon as we stepped on to the city's brick streets we headed for the Porto Cathedral, atop of a hill and seen from most parts of the city centre. What from outside looked like a castle actually housed the cathedral and a museum of sorts which had very few but interesting things on display, including samples of ancient hand painted tiles, and a reproduction of two pages of the first book ever printed in Porto, in the early 1400s. It was ancient Portuguese and I was struggling to even read the first line.

We didn't linger for too long in there as it was very cold and most of us (apart from Isabel!) were very unprepared for it. So we headed out into the sun towards the river for a Portuguese latte (meia de leite)

Beautiful view from down there -- it is definitely the image of Porto that I will take with me. All the charming old houses are very colourful and well looked after, and there are lots of cafés and restaurants where you can relax and enjoy the view while having a cup of coffee or some bacalhau à moda da casa. The whole area along the river's edge is kind of touristy but still nice.

Along the opposite edge of the river sit all the main caves (or wine caves) where later that afternoon we went on a wine tour and tasted a couple of varieties of port (the tour/tasting costs €3.50 which you can discount off the price of one wine bottle at the end -- should you choose to buy one). All the grapes and most of the port is actually produced elsewhere, upstream the Douro, but all the main wineries keep cellars and shops in the city centre where they are conveniently within reach of the tourists's pockets.

We then took a bus tour around the city which was okay but a bit too rushed for me. I need time to walk around the buildings, look at the shops, people walking by, and take photos. But I went back to most of the same locations the following day when I was by myself and could take my time.

Halfway through the bus tour we stopped at the beach for a delicious lunch by the sea (I had bacalhau, of course), then back to the city centre for the wine tour, and straight home to warm up!

The thing that struck me most about Porto though were the hand painted and patterned tiles which are everywhere and give the city a beautiful, uniquely colourful look. But apart from the more touristy areas, the buildings are very poorly looked after. Many look or are abandoned, with broken doors/windows, and I was shocked to see that people still lived in them.

Paredes

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 10:02:00 +0000

Paredes is a town about 30 minutes east of Porto. It's a very quiet, cute little town with a couple of busier streets, a main square and a church which at night is beautifully lit up. It reminds me of countryside Brazil.

We spent Christmas with Isabel's family here. On Christmas Eve we had a lavish meal of potatoes, bacalhau (cod) and vinho verde (green wine), followed by about eight different kinds of cakes, some port wine, and finally coffee: a single shot, black, with sugar, served in a tiny cup. Just as it should be.

After opening the presents (as in Brazil, this is done on Christmas Eve, not Christmas day) and chatting for a bit over a few more drinks, we went to bed and had a good night sleep.

The next day I woke up very early and instead of sitting around waiting for everyone else to wake up, I decided to go on a short stroll to get acquainted with the surroundings.

As expected, before 8 a.m. on Christmas day the town was deserted. It was a frosty morning and the air was very crisp but the low morning sun made it a perfect morning to walk around. I walked past a couple of older men making their way to the Christmas service and decided to follow them into town, across the bridge over the train station.

What I saw on the way made me forget I was in Portugal, taking me straight home: the cafés with people sitting at the bar, the tiny shops with familiar names, the old folk saying hello as they passed by, the quaint houses decorated with patterned tiles, the architecture, the narrow brick paved streets.

Despite feeling at home, me and my big old camera certainly didn't belong there. At one stage this old lady walking past asked me why I was photographing the houses, particularly the abandoned/neglected ones! Somehow I thought she wouldn't quite comprehend, or care for, my obsession with urban decay so I just told her I was a tourist which seemed to have been a good enough reason as she went back to her business and let me be.

LGW - OPO

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 13:26:00 +0000

After a quick and painless train ride from Brentford train station to Gatwick Airport, Grazi and I went straight to the TAP check-in counter to get rid of our heavy bags. Much to our surprise, the lady told us we were flying business class!!

Whether it was a mistake when booking the tickets, or they just decided to bump us up because we are such nice people, the fact is that we are now sitting in the business class lounge waiting to board. It's kind of average, really. (had this happened in Heathrow's new terminal 5, or somewhere like Singapore, I am sure we would have been much better off) But we do get free food so I'm not complaining.

Yes, yes, I know I have barely arrived in the UK and I'm already flying out. But it's Christmas! And our friend Isabel has kindly invited us to spend Christmas in Portugal with her family.

So we're heading to Porto (where the port wine comes from!) for five days of sightseeing and gorging ourselves on delicious Portuguese wine and food. Can't wait!

FLN - GRU - LHR

noreply@blogger.com (André Meurer) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 19:26:00 +0000

Time to start again. I am no longer in limbo. I've been at the São Paulo airport for hours and the flight to my new home departs in about an hour. I am excited and anxious at the same time.

But it's the journey that counts, not the destination. And so far the journey has been a hell of a lot of fun.

"If we do not find anything pleasant, at least we shall find something new" -- Voltaire