In a whirlwind of events since my last week's post, I've managed to return from Paris, host a dinner party in Clapham, move flats the next day to West Hampstead, and end up in Lisbon, all under the paralyzing effects of a cold turned cough with the side effect of a lost voice! Maneesh, visiting from San Francisco, has been witness to it all, as I dragged him around Clapham to the cheese shop, the butcher shop, Sainsbury's and finally to the Abbeville for a pub lunch at my 'local' on my last day in the old neighborhood.
Dinner on Friday night was successful and festive, although I had much too much food by virtue of a few last-minute cancellations and my tendency to make more than necessary. Pictures will be posted in due time, as they aren't on my own camera and I won't have a chance to copy them for a little while.
The menu was a starter of three cheeses (the favourite being a Spanish goats cheese called 'Suspiro') with different marinated olives. To complement the first course, we tasted two different types of Prosecco. Prosecco is a white grape, native to the Fruili region of Italy. It is, like champagne, a naturally carbonated wine as a result of a second warming spell after a typical near-freeze in the vineyards produces CO(2) production in the grapes. The traditional style is slightly fizzy (frizzante) and off-dry (meaning slightly sweet). I purchased two at similar prices (£6-7 each). One was the typical style and the other was more of a champagne-style with larger bubbles (spumante) and extra-dry. The hands down favourite was this second one. So much for tradition! [Labels were recorded in my wine tasting notebook back in London; post to be updated].
The main course was proscuitto-wrapped whole-roasted chicken, with sides of butter-soaked potatoes and a cold green been and fennel salad. With this, we drank a Shiraz, a Pinot Noir, and a Rioja. Amidst the move the next day, bottles were tossed into recycling and notes weren't dutifully recorded, but I do remember the Rioja 1st and the Pinot Noir 2nd complementing the meal best. An unnecessary bottle of daily-drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape was opened sometime during dessert, which was a cheesecake/apple pie hybrid of stellar delicious proportions. It was this dessert that I ate as leftovers before rushing out of the house the next afternoon to move across London.
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On Saturday morning I woke up at 9am to a loaded, but not run, dishwasher and the remaining baguette in three different smaller pieces at different ends of the kitchen floor. As I started to clean up further and remembered how the baguette and some of the green beans got that way, my not-often-seen-in-person flatmate and his friend showed up to move out all the large furniture, including my bed. Good thing I was planning on moving that day anyway! The rest of the morning was a rush of packing my belongings into different suitcases and bags.
Aiden showed up around noon with his dad's station wagon and we just managed to fit everything in, although with no room for any additional passengers. Maneesh and I took the tube while Aiden drove across London to get to my new flat 8 miles, and another world, away in North London. Unloading was quicker than loading, and was rewarded by a trip to one of the local pubs for a hearty lunch and a pint.
The rest of the late afternoon and early evening was spent unpacking and organising while the boys watched a few rugby games on T.V. Exhausted with the daunting task of moving in to an already well-lived in flat (there really is not much kitchen cabinet space, for example), I soon joined in to the TV-watching until it was time to crash around midnight to get up for my 8am taxi pick up to go to Heathrow and fly to Lisbon, Portugal.
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Here in Lisbon I am more sick than before, although mostly in the form of the cough/lost voice. After sleeping the entire morning and cancelling today's meetings at the client, I'm feeling better, but only because I don't have to interact with anyone and squeak out questions about IT Operations.
Yesterday, Maneesh and I had a snack at a local Pastelaria, which is a pastry shop as ubiquitous here as Starbuck's in downtown U.S. cities. A pastry and a tiny espresso (because I was too chicken to try to order a coffee the way I wanted it) provided just enough extra energy to walk around the 'old city' of Lisbon. Cobblestone streets, tile facades, and wrought iron balconies are the norm. Several buildings are in need of renovations, while on the main central street there are the typical Zara, Louis Vuitton, and other international-branded shops that make you feel like you could really be in any European city.
We had dinner at a seafood restaurant that in more ways than one made us feel like we were sent to the Fisherman's Wharf (SF tourist area) of Lisbon. We were facing a bridge that was Bay Bridge in structure, and yet painted rust colour like the Golden Gate. Our restaurant was one of many along a strip on a boardwalk next to the harbour dotted with small to mid-sized sail boats. While the seafood was of excellent quality, the service was slow. The highlight of the meal was actually the reasonably-priced Pinot Noir that while not outstanding, was satisfactory and enjoyable for the situation.
After 8 hours sleep, I woke up feeling worse than before and with no improvement in my voice, so today I sit here in Le Meridien Lisbon, overlooking the water from the hotel room and gearing myself up to go get lunch...or maybe get room service. I know from experience this month that the two days of scheduled meetings can most likely get done in one day, so I'd rather regain my voice and try to get better today and just push through tomorrow.
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