Lisbon. After all the cheap wine of South Africa drunk on board the plane, first thing you notice is him. Christ the man is a character. Perhaps the character, the one who has all the heart and soul of the city you visit. Stylish blue overcoat, sports trousers in a rather horrifying state, hopelessly worn-out black shoes and this huge beige bag over his shoulder that is perhaps one of the greatest things you have ever seen. It's right there, in that seven foot tall man. All the sloppiness, all the charisma of Portugal.
Wednesday, 30 November 2016
travelling notes (xii)
Lisbon. After all the cheap wine of South Africa drunk on board the plane, first thing you notice is him. Christ the man is a character. Perhaps the character, the one who has all the heart and soul of the city you visit. Stylish blue overcoat, sports trousers in a rather horrifying state, hopelessly worn-out black shoes and this huge beige bag over his shoulder that is perhaps one of the greatest things you have ever seen. It's right there, in that seven foot tall man. All the sloppiness, all the charisma of Portugal.
