Food for thought

Glenn and I had a great time in Portugal and Spain.  (More on that another time.) Two days before returning to Atlanta, our friend Char emailed and said a room in the farmhouse she was renting in the Luberon had opened up in. Would we like it? Provence in September? Perfect! She and her guests were getting there Sunday. We were leaving from Lisbon Monday.  Glenn just couldn’t do it. Too much going on back home.  I however had nothing planned. After a few hours of checking schedules, I booked a flight from Lisbon to Marseille. It was meant to be; this flight was 15 minutes later than Glenn’s and it ended up being at the very next gate? It was strange saying goodbye to Glenn as he went back to Atlanta while I extended my stay in Europe to include a week in Provence. This is the stuff of fantasy for me.  Really? Getting a last minute call to join friends in southern France for a week of eating, drinking and touring? I read about these kind of things happening to others...

Glenn and I are taking a two week holiday in Portugal and southern Spain. We landed in Lisbon yesterday and hit the ground running.  It never fails that I catch a cold on the plane, and this was no exception.  Runny nose all day. Lisbon has no real wow! attractions. In fact it feels a little run down compared to other Western European countries.  I was beginning to wonder if we had made a mistake booking three days here.  Maybe it was the Benedryl or the jet lag, but as soon as the sun set on that first very long day, this town came alive. The hot expanses of stone became shiny wonderful plazas with folks of all walks of life wondering around. The hawkish menu pushers outside of every restaurant seemed to have a knowing smile that let me in on the joke.  The shabby old buildings felt like noble old structures. I’m not sure why, but I really like this place.  Moreover, I think I like how I feel here. Relaxed and interested.  Tonight we ate at one of the...