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A Virus

  08-29-22 Monday I landed at JFK after my economical flight on Azores Airlines. I had a second-floor apartment reserved via Airbnb in Brooklyn so it only remained to get there. It took three subways to deposit me on a street corner in SW Brooklyn, the middle class Bay Ridge neighborhood that was somewhat familiar to me. My best friend from high school had moved there in 1967 and we spent some pleasant afternoons playing stickball thereabouts.  I exhibited my usual lousy navigational skills, hefting my heavy backpack in the wrong direction until a local set me right. I found I was to share a 1950-s era flat with two women. They greeted me cheerfully even at the late hour I arrived, near 10 pm on a Friday night.. I got a tour of the facilities, a shared kitchen, a bathroom crowded with their toiletries, and my spartan room — bed, dresser, closet, TV. The next morning I got my clothes cleaned at the local laundromat, had some NY pizza, got a new SIM card for my phone, and in the evening
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Azores

Monday Ponta Delgada, Azores Two experiences If you’re lucky you get two sublime experiences on any trip.  I arrived at the main Lisbon bus station on a hot Friday afternoon. The station is a somewhat shabby, almost-shadeless expanse of concrete in the northeast corner of the city. My heavy backpack (I’d bought some gifts in Porto that added new weight) made my lower back ache a bit, and my smaller backpack (which I wore in front of me) tugged at my throat enough to be uncomfortable. I carried a thin cardboard container that housed a painting I’d bought as a gift. Altogether I was very eager to reach the LX Hostel down near the Tagus River that gives Lisbon it’s raison d’etre.  My Google directions to my hostel were encouraging — just walk a bit to the Metro Station nearby. Naturally I couldn’t find it for a few minutes until I realized the stop was beneath me, down two sets of stairs, thence to an expansive hall obviously intended to accommodate a sizable crowd of people. This was Fri
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Porto, Portugal

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  Blog 07-25-22 Monday Ponta Delgada, Azores I spent a couple days in Porto on the north coast of Portugal. While I was there the temperature in England set records, first time over forty degrees I think I read. As a result, I assume, Porto, where it was in the mid twenties (low seventies Fahrenheit) was full of Brits. There were also scads of other tourists. The place was packed.  I can’t explain why I didn’t find Porto interesting. My pension was comfortable. The weather was great, especially after the oven in Bilbao. The extremely-hilly streets were narrow and touristic. There was no reason not to be delighted with the city. But I wasn’t. I bought some gifts. I had a couple nice meals. And I left. 
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One marvelous experience

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  Blog 07-25-22 Monday Ponta Delgada, Azores If you’re lucky you get two sublime experiences on any trip.  I arrived at the main Lisbon bus station on a hot Friday afternoon. The station is a somewhat shabby, almost-shadeless expanse of concrete in the northeast corner of the city. My heavy backpack (I’d bought some gifts in Porto that added new weight) made my lower back ache a bit, and my smaller backpack (which I wore in front of me) tugged at my throat enough to be uncomfortable. I carried a thin cardboard container that housed a painting I’d bought as a gift. Altogether I was very eager to reach the LX Hostel down near the Tagus River that gives Lisbon it’s raison d’etre.  My Google directions to my hostel were encouraging — just walk a bit to the Metro Station nearby. Naturally I couldn’t find it for a few minutes until I realized the stop was beneath me, down two sets of stairs, thence to an expansive hall obviously intended to accommodate a sizable crowd of people. This was Fri
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Bilbao

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  Blog 07-18-22 Monday Bilbao Bilbao I left the (air-conditioned) hostel at 10:30 last night. The street thermometer said 45 degrees (113 degrees F). I almost believed it, but three other such indicators read 41 degrees (105.8 F), more believable.  I tried to beat the heat by getting out early today. At 8:30 it was 29 degrees (84.2 F) but by 11:30 it was well over 100 degrees. I gave up and retired to my hostel for the rest of the day. For three days it’s been like this, pushing 110 F at its peak, never below the mid 80’s. Walking drained me in minutes.  Thus I have failed at being the tourist in Bilbao. I did get to the Guggenheim, which has a story to tell that is crucial to the city’s history.  This is Basque country, a place that celebrates its resentment toward the Spanish. Like Scotland and Quebec and numerous other domains around the world this region has carved out a measure of independence from the central authority. Madrid, smartly, has kept a light hand on the tiller, allow
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Bordeaux

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  Blog 07-16-22 Bilbao, Saturday Bordeaux is, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful cities on earth. Much of it was built of local stone more than 700 years ago, but the real story begins in the 1970´s. The place was inundated with automobiles, crowding every available space. The river, The Garonne, was bordered by ugly warehouses that denied access to the public.  the bike tour The city leaders made the hard decision to invest in a rework of the entire metropolis. The warehouses were torn down, giving the river back to the citizenry. Tram lines were constructed to all corners of the area and cars were banned from many of the city streets. In places where cars could still travel the roads were narrowed to mostly one lane. Traffic slowing measures were instituted on most avenues. They even mandated that all property owners clean the outsides of their buildings. {Itś interesting to observe a few holdouts within the city. A handful of owners refused to comply and their blackened exterior
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