The Spirit of the World ( On and Off)
Portugal (13)
(Continuation of a story I began with Portugal #1)
Marvin and I returned to Cascais to resume our respective lives. He did buy a condo in Portugal that he ultimately shared with a Portuguese woman. The man who had encouraged me to exercise my newly found freedoms in Morocco was actually someone who was drawn to traditional women. He continued to try to fulfill the endless bureaucratic requirements that were asked of him in order to gain permanent immigration in Portugal.
I moved closer to the center of town and to the sea. I continued to write and continued to be very critical. I wandered the little fishing village and visitors struck up conversations with me. One woman observed that it was difficult to think of me as a writer because I was so gregarious. I was beginning to agree.
As the fifth month of my stay in Cascais arrived, so did sad news from America. My mother’s health was declining. It was necessary for me to return home. Marvin and I had kept in touch and he offered to take me to the airport. I packed up all of my yellow legal tablets and my meager belongings.
In the back of my mind, the Orient was a plan and a dream. I missed Asia. Perhaps I would end up on the other side of the world after being with my mother.
This picture was taken more recently when I returned to Lisboa on a cruise ship. It is a landmark of Lisboa. The 25 de Abril Bridge on the Tagus River was built in 1966. It was built by the same construction company that built the San Francisco – Oakland bridge. They even used the same color of paint on both bridges.
On that return trip, I raced off of the cruise ship and hired a taxi to take me to Cascais. Twenty years had not changed the little town very much, but now it was called a boutique fishing village and was drawing a good number of visitors. They had added a large super market and that seemed to be the extent of the modernization. The taxi driver was thrilled to show me around and explain the changes. Was Marvin still there? Sadly, we had lost touch with each other over the years which happens so frequently in our hurried lives so I didn’t know the answer.
When I got back to the cruise ship, I saw the cruise director and the enrichment director who I had befriended. They asked about my activities for the day. I told them that I had taken a taxi to Cascais. They looked at me and warned that doing such a thing could be quite dangerous. I am certain that I looked at them with some distain when I told them that I used to live there. I’m not sure they comprehended as the American man who was in charge of enrichment lectures on board the ship for years had rarely gotten off the ship.
Portugal (13)
(Continuation of a story I began with Portugal #1)
Marvin and I returned to Cascais to resume our respective lives. He did buy a condo in Portugal that he ultimately shared with a Portuguese woman. The man who had encouraged me to exercise my newly found freedoms in Morocco was actually someone who was drawn to traditional women. He continued to try to fulfill the endless bureaucratic requirements that were asked of him in order to gain permanent immigration in Portugal.
I moved closer to the center of town and to the sea. I continued to write and continued to be very critical. I wandered the little fishing village and visitors struck up conversations with me. One woman observed that it was difficult to think of me as a writer because I was so gregarious. I was beginning to agree.
As the fifth month of my stay in Cascais arrived, so did sad news from America. My mother’s health was declining. It was necessary for me to return home. Marvin and I had kept in touch and he offered to take me to the airport. I packed up all of my yellow legal tablets and my meager belongings.
In the back of my mind, the Orient was a plan and a dream. I missed Asia. Perhaps I would end up on the other side of the world after being with my mother.
This picture was taken more recently when I returned to Lisboa on a cruise ship. It is a landmark of Lisboa. The 25 de Abril Bridge on the Tagus River was built in 1966. It was built by the same construction company that built the San Francisco – Oakland bridge. They even used the same color of paint on both bridges.
On that return trip, I raced off of the cruise ship and hired a taxi to take me to Cascais. Twenty years had not changed the little town very much, but now it was called a boutique fishing village and was drawing a good number of visitors. They had added a large super market and that seemed to be the extent of the modernization. The taxi driver was thrilled to show me around and explain the changes. Was Marvin still there? Sadly, we had lost touch with each other over the years which happens so frequently in our hurried lives so I didn’t know the answer.
When I got back to the cruise ship, I saw the cruise director and the enrichment director who I had befriended. They asked about my activities for the day. I told them that I had taken a taxi to Cascais. They looked at me and warned that doing such a thing could be quite dangerous. I am certain that I looked at them with some distain when I told them that I used to live there. I’m not sure they comprehended as the American man who was in charge of enrichment lectures on board the ship for years had rarely gotten off the ship.