Out and about in the sunshine. Old Figueira. silly language. Appreciating the decor. Politicians and their perks.

The sunshine is back again this morning. Apart from some large puddles on the promenade you wouldn’t think it had rained so much yesterday. After breakfast we took a walk down to the park which is several streets away from the seafront. Just as we were commenting on the fact that nobody ever seems to use the outdoor gym equipment somebody stepped onto one of the machines and began striding away. There you go!

We walked back up the hill in the sunshine to the seafront once more, stopping at the Chinese bazaar for Phil to acquire a cap to shade him from the sun. It’s heading for 20° today. Had we brought caps and suncream with us, it would almost certainly have rained all week. Not that I am complaining.

On the side of one of the buildings I spotted a print of an old photo of 1950s or 1960s Figueira, but not the same ones whose disappearance I commented on the other day. This one shows the ocean lapping up to the old fort, before breakwaters were built and terrain was commandeered for roads and the like. 

Now for some linguistic silliness. In the lift is a notice telling people they are not to smoke:

Não fumadores.

No smokers.

Non fumeurs.

It’s interesting (well, anyway, I find it interesting!) how direct, word for word translation from your own language can have strange results in the messages sent out to other nationalities. So, for the English, we are told that smokers are not allowed in the lift, presumably not even if their cigarettes remain in the packets in their pockets. And similarly only French non-smokers can use the lift. I do love a bit of linguistic nonsense. 

Outside and inside the lift is another notice, presumably dating from the time of Covid restrictions, telling clients: Please use the lift 2 people at a time. I’m afraid the literal silly linguist in me interprets that as meaning you have to travel in twos in the lift - it’s obligatory. And I imagine a poor solo person standing around waiting for someone else to turn up so he can use the lift. 

Our room, by the way,  is on the first floor - not a problem - and the breakfast room is on the sixth. We stubbornly try to use the stairs to go up for breakfast but usually chicken out on floor four.

Finally, for language stuff, on a menu board outside a restaurant the other day we saw ‘streak fish’ advertised. “Raia” can be a “streak”, of lightning or similar I suppose, but the fish is called “ray”. Oh dear! I am on the lookout for more menu oddities. 

Yesterday we lunched in the indoor section of the Caçarola 1 restaurant, rather than in the glass and perspex outdoor box area. I had forgotten how charming the interior of the restaurant is. It’s worth eating there for the decor alone. 

 

However, Phil’s choice of food yesterday almost gave the lie to their good quality label. He selected something off the list provided for those with chess dinner tickets, only to be told by the waitress, “Acho que o senhor não vai gostar” - I don’t think you’ll like it. It turned out to be some part of the codfish stomach. So he opted for grilled cod and chips and veg - sensible but a bit stodgy as it turned out. Everything else was fine and I can personally vouch for the panna cotta with fruits of the forest! 

 

Back in the UK Gavin Williamson (I refuse to call his Sir Gavin) has left the cabinet after a scandal about bullying. This is the third time he has left a cabinet position. Someone pointed out that he can collect £16,876 in severance pay. Really? After only two weeks in office? Has he been able to collect it every time? Good grief! It’s better than playing Monopoly and passing GO.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!