so i went to see jesus today, or at least the 28m statue of him that sits on the hill on the other side of the river. he´s a concrete replica of the one in brazil, but slightly smaller for some reason, possibly postcolonial humility which the portuguese seem to have invented all by themselves, unlike the dutch.
also unlike holland, it´s warm enough to go outside here without hurting, a fact i haven´t stopped commenting on with glee since i arrived in lisbon last week. mind you, that didn´t stop me from staying inside for the first five days with a killer flu i picked up in amsterdam. it didn´t kill me and i emerged to go on lisbon adventures: yoga in the social centre, lazing on the beach, trips on the funicular railway and the cute 1902 elevator and the ferry, and a beautiful drive to the mountains where we climbed up a ninth century moorish castle in the fog which left us stranded on a turret above the clouds, an absolutely beautiful experience which prompted me to tell the story of laputa castle in the sky to my fellow climbers (the bit from gulliver´s travels, not the miyazake film of the same name).
it was windy and raining at jesus. he was set in a turquoise-tiled area at the top of his pedestal which resembled a drained swimming pool and he didn´t have any feet. the collection of religious paraphernalia in the souvenir shop kept us entertained for minutes.
more catholicism will ensue, cause i´m off to sevilla in a few days to check out the semana santa business. it´s funny, i used to feel so traumatised by my catholic upbringing but i think that was just about having a reason to complain. i kinda dig it in europe; the old pagan preservations within it and the seasonal appropriateness of easter when the sun comes out and the leaves appear on the trees. perhaps it´s easier to acknowledge someone else´s gods. perhaps i´m over it. then there´s the chocolate. any excuse.
there´s an alarming amount of wattle and gum trees here, and at times it looks like a little patch of new south wales has been transplanted to the atlantic. it gives me brief flashes of a kind of fond homesickness which i haven´t had for a long time. nevertheless i changed my ticket recently, so i´ll be here until july and home in september, a full year, a full cycle, a double summer. i don´t want to live anywhere except australia but i´ve got a few more miles in me before i deflate on a beach somewhere like a tiny exhausted zeppelin with a mohawk.
enjoy the bunnies
also unlike holland, it´s warm enough to go outside here without hurting, a fact i haven´t stopped commenting on with glee since i arrived in lisbon last week. mind you, that didn´t stop me from staying inside for the first five days with a killer flu i picked up in amsterdam. it didn´t kill me and i emerged to go on lisbon adventures: yoga in the social centre, lazing on the beach, trips on the funicular railway and the cute 1902 elevator and the ferry, and a beautiful drive to the mountains where we climbed up a ninth century moorish castle in the fog which left us stranded on a turret above the clouds, an absolutely beautiful experience which prompted me to tell the story of laputa castle in the sky to my fellow climbers (the bit from gulliver´s travels, not the miyazake film of the same name).
it was windy and raining at jesus. he was set in a turquoise-tiled area at the top of his pedestal which resembled a drained swimming pool and he didn´t have any feet. the collection of religious paraphernalia in the souvenir shop kept us entertained for minutes.
more catholicism will ensue, cause i´m off to sevilla in a few days to check out the semana santa business. it´s funny, i used to feel so traumatised by my catholic upbringing but i think that was just about having a reason to complain. i kinda dig it in europe; the old pagan preservations within it and the seasonal appropriateness of easter when the sun comes out and the leaves appear on the trees. perhaps it´s easier to acknowledge someone else´s gods. perhaps i´m over it. then there´s the chocolate. any excuse.
there´s an alarming amount of wattle and gum trees here, and at times it looks like a little patch of new south wales has been transplanted to the atlantic. it gives me brief flashes of a kind of fond homesickness which i haven´t had for a long time. nevertheless i changed my ticket recently, so i´ll be here until july and home in september, a full year, a full cycle, a double summer. i don´t want to live anywhere except australia but i´ve got a few more miles in me before i deflate on a beach somewhere like a tiny exhausted zeppelin with a mohawk.
enjoy the bunnies
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