Our friends to the East (the Spanish) get about a month off an have invaded Lisbon in their thousands. The 'sh' sounds and nasal dipthongs (think the ow sound in clown) so prevalent in Portuguese have been replaced by 'th' and rolled r's of your average Spaniard. Six months ago I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between a Portuguese person and a Spaniard but now I can spot them a mile off. I'm not sure if this is because there is an inate difference between the people or if it is just that you can always spot a tourist, no matter how hard they try to fit in.
Since I got here, lots of other non-Portuguese people have warned me about the Portuguese being very reserved, quiet and less emotional than their cousins across the border. This was proven to me at the weekend when I went to my local bar to watch the football. Instead of half a dozen Portuguese blokes sat round three cups of espresso, there were people actually enjoying themselves! Don't get me wrong, I am not criticising the Portuguese - quite the opposite: I have a hatred for people who feel that they have to show their heart on their sleeve. Nothing worse than people letting the rest of the world know exactly how much they are enjoying themselves. Unless you have just beat Arsenal 4-1, got really smashed and then found that you have no money on your debit card and have convinced the local barkeep to let you have a tab until next week. Then you can celebrate.
In celebration of such fine performances against Arsenal and PSV, or maybe because of Easter, I had five days off work with which to do whatever I pleased. So, I drank a lot, ate a lot, was a bit ill and went to a beautiful town called Evora. There is not a great deal to say about the place. It probably wasn't the best time of year to go as it was full of tourists, but it was still a really nice place full of interesting buildings, museums, churches and stuff. We only spent two days there but I would really like to visit at a less busy time of year. The picture you can see of me was taken in the Chapel of Bones. As the name suggests, the whole room is made of human bones and is finished off with two full skeletons (over my right shoulder) of a young mother and her baby. Creepy and disturbing.
