Rick at 53

Disappointed in the accommodation available in Porto, Portugal, I decided to hop on an overnight bus to Lisbon, as an alternative.

World Heritage listed Porto is gorgeous, though. My favourite locale (wandering the town waiting on the midnight bus) was the Douro river waterfront at night.

I slept a few hours on the bus, then got dumped at some distant depot. It was 2hrs before the Metro started running, so I ended up on my birthday morning sitting hidden in a construction site listening to a Johnny Cash biography on my iPod.

It had been raining since I got to Portugal. All my clothes wet and/or mildewed.


At this point you might guess I’d start quoting the Cash requiem Hurt, … but I’ve actually had a fantastic birthday. I’m elated.

The Portuguese sun finally arrived. Bright and white. I’m hanging out in the best hostel in town mostly with Calgarians. (Everyone here but me is an intense alternative music fanatic.)

I jet my carbon footprint to Korea on the 5th, my first junket. I’m there as a guest hiking expert.

Oh, … and I’m just about to buy myself a wonderful gift, an MBA.

Happy Birthday.

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