11 July, 2018: Altogether we were in Florence for about a week, and saw more art than I could count or photograph. “Don’t forget to look up!” became our running refrain, as every building we entered had stunning frescoes and carvings on the ceilings. Continue reading “Florence, part 2: Art and Food”
07 July, 2018: Florence! I landed fairly late, and took a taxi to the address of my Airbnb. It was a proper Italian taxi ride, complete with wild acceleration, sudden stops and turns, and the driver gesturing wildly from time to time. He was very nice, but he had a little trouble finding the address — we got fairly close, though, and I had already downloaded the map to my phone so I was happy to walk the rest of the way.
My host lives in Spain, so the process of getting the keys was a little bit worrisome, particularly since I didn’t have cellphone service in Italy when I arrived. I messaged my host from the airport wifi, and told him I was about to hail a taxi. He then called the person who takes care of his apartment, to tell her about when to expect me, and the plan was that I would meet her there. Continue reading “Florence, part 1: Welcome to the City of Narrative”
06 July, 2018: I mentioned two day trips from Lisbon; the first was to Sintra, and for the second (a week later), I went to the beach. I wasn’t quite well enough to go surfing, so I was aiming for a nice big beach, with a pleasant town or boardwalk to get my walking in, and lots of sand to stretch out on. I was hoping for a spot that wasn’t too crowded, but was in easy reach of the city center by public transit. I found all that and more in Costa da Caparica. Continue reading “The Softest Sand Yet”
I didn’t spend my entire time in Lisbon having pneumonia and eating pastry; I also left the city twice on day trips, once I was well enough to walk more than a block without having to take a nap immediately afterward.
30 June, 2018: What do you do after you’ve been basically laid up for two weeks and haven’t managed to eat more than one small meal a day for most of that time? Head to a mountain town and spend the whole day walking up and down steep hills and stairs looking at castles, obviously. My doctor had encouraged me to try to take deep breaths and work to get my lung capacity back (probably only partly with the ulterior motive of gaining a vocal new fan for Portugal in the world cup, as previously mentioned), so as soon as I felt somewhat recovered I hopped on a train and went to Sintra. Continue reading “A Fine Day for Castling”
23 June, 2018: After the week at the seaside with Debbie as my very kind nurse, and after a hellish day-long journey to Lisbon, I met my host and her cats and collapsed into bed. I had planned to visit the doctor the following Monday (I arrived on Saturday), and my host had offered to help me find one.
When I woke up late in the morning on Sunday, my host was out for the day, and I had the place to myself (well, me and the two lovely cats — more about them soon). I got up and took a shower…. and then was so completely exhausted and out of breath that I had to take a nap. When I woke up an hour or so later, I had had enough; I picked myself up, Googled “expat walk-in clinic Lisbon” and ordered an Uber. Continue reading “The healing power of music and art (oh and also modern medicine): two weeks in Lisbon”
15 June, 2018: After an early-morning flight from Zagreb to Lisbon, I took the metro to the train station and then hopped on a train south to Faro. I had purchased my ticket online in advance, and as a result had found a special advance-purchase fare in first class that was cheaper than the normal fare in second class. Score! Continue reading “They used to send sick people to the seaside for a reason, right?”
After my hike in the alps and my week in Shkodër, it was time to head north, back to the European Union with the eventual goal of Zagreb and a flight to Portugal. Continue reading “Through Montenegro and on to Croatia”
02 June, 2018: When I woke up I was slightly sore, but eager to start the day. It was beautiful and sunny and I had several hours to kill before my ride back to Shkodër, so I started off with a walk. Continue reading “The Albanian Alps, Part 3: Meeting Horses On Their Way to Church”