Update from Porto

If this is Thursday it must be Porto. Since we were last heard from we've gone to the farthest southwest corner of Portugal to the largest city in its north. We're still having fun, too.

We made it to the fado restaurant, or at least one our Lisbon hotel recommended that specialized in a folklorico show. There were some fine singers, and a trio: two men who played a bass drum and an accordion (is that the Portuguese national combination of instruments?) and a woman who played tambourine and sang. Occasionally she and the drummer danced as well. It was altogether a most enjoyable show.

The next day we picked up a car and Ron drove us to Evora, an attractive old town east of Lisbon with a Roman temple of Diana right beside the 12th-century cathedral and the former offices of the Inquisition. (We keep encountering disquieting reminders of Christianity's darkest days). That afternoon we explored some megalithic remains: a solitary standing stone, and a field full of dolmens that seemed oriented towards sunrise at the equinox.

We spent the night in Beija at a posada - a government-run high quality inn - in a former convent. It was a huge building, quite attractively made into a hotel and with a fine restaurant. But it had a strange, haunted, sad, cold feeling. I slept well but woke feeling like something had drained my batteries overnight. I wouldn't go there again even though it seems like a good enough hotel.

The next day, Tuesday, we drove to Sagres at the southwest corner of the country, stopping first at Vila Nova de Milfonte on the coast - a very pretty fishing village and summer resort (for the Portuguese, not Europeans). I could have spent days there; we didn't even get to explore the castle. Definitely a place to see.

Sagres is the place Prince Henry the Navigator established a navigation school for his fleet of explorers. The fortress there has a large wind rose laid out on the ground that I think the captains used to help plot their anticipated courses. They may have had Chinese sailing directions for at least the seas around India and Africa and have been translating them into charts they could use in their voyages. Sir Francis Drake raided the place once, I think for the maps - they were worth more than gold at that time.

A little further along the coast is Cape St. Vincent, where the body of St. Vincent the martyr was said to have washed up as it made its escape from his hometown of Zaragossa in Spain. It's the furthest southwest point in Portugal, and the Romans said the sun sank hissing into the sea just beyond it. We watched the sunset later from our balcony in the very comfortable posada in Sagres, but we didn't hear any hissing.

Gotta go now. The wireless connection is becoming intolerably slow and unreliable. To be continued later.

On the Road Again

So much for a peaceful life in Canmore. We're off and travelling again.

At the moment I'm curled up on my bed in the cozy and friendly Hotel Principe, Lisbon, recovering from our third day of seeing the city and environs. I've taken a real liking to Lisbon. I'm prejudiced in favour of the Portuguese, anyway, after getting to know some fine specimens when we lived in Toronto. There are more of the same here.

I suppose I should catch up with what's been happening for the past week first. We left Canmore with our friend Mallory (who will be house-sitting for us when her term at Malaspina University College ends in May) a week ago, taking a day and a bit to get to Nanaimo. There we left our car, picked up some of Begum's stuff to take to Turkey, and (on Monday) tried to catch a plane to Vancouver. No luck. Nanaimo had too much fog for it to land. So off we went to the Duke Pt. ferry and then Vancouver airport, where we caught a later plane to Toronto. Tuesday afternoon we finally got to the home of Elena, Vladimir and Alexei, our son Evan's future in-laws. I think we all wanted to check each other out and see if our children had chosen a good new family. We definitely approve of Evan's choice; Anna's family will look after him extremely well indeed.

Wednesday evening we caught the plane for London. It was a pleasant enough flight, although too short for us to get enough sleep to face the hellhole that's Heathrow Airport with equanimity. We'll pass over those hours of waiting in various lineups and try to pretend they didn't exist.

Finally we were flying into Lisbon. The city makes a good impression from the air - green and clean, old and scenic with lots of new bits too. That first impression seems to have been accurate. The city is a lot like Izmir in many ways, but it's cleaner and looks much more prosperous. The EU has been good to Portugal, I suspect, although wages are still low (€700 a month, we're told). Prices seem low, too, at least for Europe. And the weather has been perfect: 22 at most, and clear with a brilliant blue sky. It helps having the Atlantic Ocean to the west acting as a giant air scrubber.

The first full day - Friday - we took our usual hop on-hop off tour. We find these a helpful way of getting acquainted with a city. We take most of the tour the first time around and get off at the furthest place we think might be interesting. After we've seen that we hop back on and go around again to the next neat sight. We do that as long as the light holds and stagger back home to recover.
So first we stopped off at the huge S. Jeronimo monastery, which now houses an archaeological museum, national library and a whole bunch of other stuff. It still has a functioning church attached, complete with the tomb of Vasco da Gama, the first European to sail around the world (using maps compiled by the Chinese earlier in the 15th century, according to this site.) Across the road was the Discoverers' Monument, celebrating the incredible achievements of the Portuguese in the Age of Exploration. Portuguese is still the 5th most spoken language in the world, and when you look around on the streets of Lisbon you can see why. There are people from all over the world in this city - many from Africa, some from Brazil or parts of Asia, all speaking Portuguese. And they seem to fit in and work together well.

Anyway... where was I? Oh yes, we caught the bus and went back into the centre of town to find the #28 tram, which our book said we mustn't miss. It goes up a steep hill towards the castle through the most ancient part of town (not destroyed by the 1755 earthquake, which wiped out most of the fashionable parts and powerful people of Lisbon and put an end to the glorious age of empire). The tram was crowded and Ron lost his wallet to a pickpocket - but some kind angel had hinted to him that he should take everything out of it except a bit of money, and carry just one credit card separately. So that was not a disaster.

We got out of the tram at the highest part of its trip to take some pictures from a viewpoint, then caught it again, found our way back to the subway, learned how it works, and found our way back to the hotel. When we were somewhat rested we went out in search of a restaurant the desk clerk recommended. Couldn't find that one but ended up in a place that claimed to be "the king of bacalhau (dried codfish)". And that's what we had. Not bad, really - way better than what I've had in Canada, which is salty and tough. This was just really chewy but flavourful.

Yesterday - Saturday - we caught the train out to Sintra, the summer home of Portugal's royalty since at least the 12th century. We poked around the town, explored the palace, and were serenaded twice: once by a drum band, and a second time by a men's singing group. They were both excellent examples of their art form.

Today we headed out quite early, trying to get downtown to catch a walking tour. But I misled us and we missed the subway entrance, so we ended up walking the whole way and getting there an hour late. It was a pleasant walk, though. We ended up catching an old tram car tour that covered much of the same territory we'd seen on Friday but more interestingly. Then we caught a minibus up to the castle, which had been staring down at us the previous couple of days, tempting us to get up there and have a look. It's a very nice castle, probably more than 1000 years old in its oldest bits. You get a fantastic view of Lisbon from its ramparts, and it's nicely restored and maintained - an example of what Izmir could do with its Kale if it had the money. Lisbon's castle is an EU restoration project.

Tonight we're planning on going downtown again to a restaurant in the old part of the city where we can hear fado, a traditional style of Portuguese singing. We'll see. We're both pretty wiped from our day on our feet in the sun. Maybe we'll try the snack bar down the street.

Christmas update

I realize I didn't say much about our wonderful Christmas. I probably won't; it's far too late. But our son Evan has some delightful pictures of his experience in Canmore. Check them out.

The wet coast

We're just back from a week or so on the west coast of British Columbia, checking in on friends and relatives in preparation for our next expedition to Turkey and environs.

It's not fair to call it the "wet coast" really. The weather was almost perfect most of the time. But BC has had such a series of fierce storms in the last few months that I felt we were unusually blessed.

We had tons of people to catch up on, starting with daughter Rachel and her beloved Phil. They're good to hang out with, even if they are Warcraft freaks. Fortunately Rachel has now gone off on a two-month silent retreat, so maybe she'll be able to kick the habit while she's there. I don't even dare look at the site in case I get hooked, too.

We stayed at the Bayshore Inn down on the harbour so we could catch a seaplane flight to Saltspring Island the next morning. The plane leaves from right in front of the hotel! The Bayshore is nothing special, but the seaplane sure is, and so was the evening view from our window.

We flew alongside Stanley Park. I'd expected to see a lot of damage to this priceless Vancouver treasure from windstorms in November and December - the TV news made it look like the entire park was devastated - but the damage seemed confined to the seaward edge and along the road from Lion's Gate Bridge to the city. Bad enough, but there are still lots of trees.

Saltspring Island was quite lovely, as usual, and it was good to check in again with our friends the Weisners. We've known Ron and Cathy since the summer of 1967, when the two Rons were Ontario Hydro trainees. We still find we can reconnect without much trouble no matter how long it's been since we saw each other last.

We caught up with our friends Ruth and Beth the day after they moved into a retirement home. They're among the first women ordained priests in the Anglican Church of Canada. I think of Ruth as my godmother in the priesthood - I think I thought I could be as holy a person as she is if I was ordained, too (vain hope.) She's quite frail now, but Beth's faithful love brings joy to her life.



Then up to Nanaimo to check on "the girls" - Begüm and Mallory, who share an apartment as they go to Malaspina University College. They walked us through some lovely scenery and shared their apartment with us. It's good to have friends who are under 40!


We headed back to the mainland and up to the Sunshine Coast to say hello to my cousin Ardith and her partner Bill. Checked in by phone with our cousin Sandra - the three of us were born within a year of each other - and made a date to see her in the fall. Visited my father's sister Audrey and her husband Tammy, and met cousin Bob, whom I've seen once before at most! It's never too late to discover family.


Finally back to Vancouver and Aunt Elsie, the youngest of my Grant aunts, who is still lovely, active and creative in her late 80s. I don't think she will ever get old; she refuses to grouch about the way the world is going to hell or how her body is falling apart (it isn't as far as I can tell).

One last set of old friends that evening: Brian, who was Ron's best man, and his family at their horse farm in Surrey. More people with whom we don't feel strange whether it's days or years since the last visit. I wish we'd kept in touch with more of the old gang. Maybe we'll work harder at that when we get back.

It was good to see all these dear people, but the highlight of the trip was the last night when we collected another performance of Mozart's Magic Flute. There's never been a performance like it, although 10 years ago or so I sang in the chorus of one in Durham, Ont. that tried to do the same thing. The Vancouver Opera Company worked for three years with First Nations people to develop this production set in the BC forest. The costumes of Sarastro and his friends were West Coast native; the scenery was rocks and trees (well, papier mache and cloth streamers, but they worked), and the libretto was freshly and very well translated using some words from the language of the Musqueam people. We were entranced. This is the third Magic Flute we've seen in a year - Vienna and Banff were the other ones - and it's impossible for me to say which was the best. The singing was better in Vienna, but the production was stodgy compared to the other two. I'd have liked the Queen of the Night and Sarastro to have been more accurate in their pitches, but the spirit of this production made everything else irrelevant. Wow! This site says a bit more about it.

The beginning of March we're bound back to Turkey via Portugal and Spain. You'll hear from us then, if not before.

Political overload

Yesterday I did something I thought I'd never do: I bought a membership in the Progressive Conservative party of Alberta. I've worked for the NDP since I was 15 (I fell and broke my tailbone in their Halifax office, which gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "busting your butt").

Ron bought a membership, too. But we haven't undergone a radical conversion. It's just that it looked like Alberta was about to go even farther along the road to hell, and we knew we had to do something. The Conservatives are the only party that's going to be in power in Alberta in the forseeable future, so casting a vote in a provincial elections is pretty meaningless. But yesterday members of the Conservative party were voting for a new party leader, and a vote in that election can make a difference. There were three choices: a "suit" from Calgary with fairly moderate views; a southern rancher/professor who is only slightly to the left of the Ku Klux Klan, and a nice farmer from the north. The right-wing crazy man was very likely to win. So out we went and got our memberships. It was a multiple-choice ballot; you indicated your first and second choices, and if no one got over 50% of the first choices, the bottom guy dropped out and the second choices of the people who voted for him were counted. And so the winner was the one who came second after the first choice votes were counted: the nice northern farmer. With any luck he'll be harmless.

Meanwhile the federal Liberals were electing their new leader at a convention in Montreal, so when we weren't out messing around with the provincial Conservatives we were stuck in front of the TV. And the same thing happened, sort of. The leaders were overtaken by a really nice guy who'd been running third most of the time.

The thing that struck me about both these events was how nice all these people were to each other - the Liberals in particular. They'd had some ugly leadership conventions in the past, but this time they seemed to be making an effort to be civilized and kind. It seemed so much more intelligent than some of the alternatives you see in politics.

So politicians really can act like intelligent human beings. Maybe there's hope for this country, at least.

And maybe I'd better go out and buy myself an NDP membership to soothe my conscience

An end - and a beginning?

So I finally told the Bishop I wanted to retire. Last Wednesday we had a lovely chat by phone. Bishop John of Kootenay Diocese is a wonderful man and I would have liked very much to have been able to work with him, but I simply don't have the energy any more to be a parish priest. So now I'm officially retired - or on my way to being officially retired after the paperwork is done.

Now what? We're happily settled into our life in Canmore, enjoying not freezing our little behinds in Izmir(my goodness it gets cold there in the winter!), and being totally lazy. We belong to two choirs and are working a bit on the music they're doing next month, especially the Bow Valley Choir's production of Rutter's Reluctant Dragon and some quite lovely Christmas carols by Rutter. I'm working an afternoon a week at the Canmore Museum shop, which is about all I have the energy for. Eventually I'll see about getting licensed as a priest in Calgary diocese so I can help out at the church here. We're going back to Turkey in March for a few months, so I really can't get deeply involved in much else here. But eventually I guess I need to do something (as in "Don't just stand there..."). What?

One idea is to create another blog, a more commercial one, and write something about the spirituality of computing, or spirituality and computing, or something like that. I'd like to call it Mother Geek, but the name's taken. Saint Geek? Who knows. If it brought in a bit of money that would be nice.

Meanwhile, winter is here in the Bow Valley and the mountains are white about halfway down. The days are crisp and sunny and very short - the sun sinks behind Mt. Rundle about 3 p.m. But our apartment is snug and comfy, full of sun in the mornings so I can lounge in my comfy chair wasting time on the Internet and enjoying the luxury of laziness. Life could be lots worse!

Surprise!

Sunday morning this is what I saw out the window. That was Sunday October 29. The temperature in Izmir that day was 22. In Canmore it was -10, and it's stayed like that for 3 days.

I wanna go back to Izmir!