Here I am. After a more than quiet flight (I suppose; nothing woke me up) I arrived to Lisbon. Waiting for me at the airport there was my friend Margarida, whom I haven’t met for four years.
As she had some lessons to attend (poor students), I went for a walk after settling in at her place. I took the underground to the typical place for tourists, sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. It’s funny to feel like a visitor in a country where all the inhabitants are foreigners (at least from my point of view). I stopped to have lunch in a restaurant which seemed one of the most typical and traditional ones in the city. It was the typical and traditional portugochinese restaurant with a morbid obese oriental cooking recipes from the country with his personal touch. Not bad.
Well, don’t think I’ll be writing everyday. It’s just that it always makes a good impression telling that you haven’t died along the way.