It's been my first weekend after starting work and obviously with all the changes and goings-on it has been rather draining so I wasn't too enthused about the prospect of an action packed weekend. Luckily for me there are plenty of activities right on my doorstep and after her own hard week S was very much in agreement on this point.
As usual Saturday morning was spent guiltily getting my lie-in whilst S was at her classes but I hadn't forgotten my deal to keep the flat tidy which is only fair really. One of the hardest things about moving in with someone is adjusting to the other person's level of cleanliness. We all have different tolerances for tidiness and hygiene. This obviously also changes over time too, I have lived in some horrible dank pits in my student days where washing up would remain undone until you were almost at the 'eating scrambled eggs from a shoe with a comb' phase. (NB. please see Black Books for references). There were also issues in student houses I have lived in regarding entire bottles of red wine spilled on the carpet, burns of varying sizes and causes on all soft furnishings, empty bottles littering the place (I believe in my first student house we counted over 60 empty red wine bottles as we moved out and that was just what we hadn't thrown out, but I stand to be corrected on that). But, thankfully, times have changed. Those days of slobbery are now behind me, I've lived on my own for over a year and my own tolerance of cleanliness is now quite high. This is fortunate as so is S's
I remember I think either just before or just after I moved in there was a (semi perhaps) serious concern that S voiced where she asked me to confirm that I would help out around the house. It stuck with me not because I doubt that S has faith in me, she saw my flat in Manchester enough times to realise that I wasn't just cleaning it up for her, but it was a more general concern that the guys she knows here and the fact that they don't really do much around the house. All her girl friends complain about it. I'm not sure how valid this is across the country but I do suspect it to be fairly prevalent, from my own experience too. I think in the UK guys are generally more 'modern' for want of a better word. I'm not afraid to put a pinney on and do my fair share, in fact in the kitchen I really do prefer to do everything (I'm sure S resents being kicked out of a place she once used to dominate) but I really do see it as my domain now. I think there is a tendency for guys here to be 'mothered' a lot more than the UK and most definitely a lot more than I was. I do consider myself to be quite um homem moderno.
Cleaning aside there were some plans for yesterday as we were finally going to go to the library which is across the street from us. The Municipal Library here is located in a very beautiful old building called the Palácio Galveias, here is the front of it-
We actually live behind it, here are a couple of views from our balcony -
The garden is very pretty, especially in the summer when these photos were taken and when it is filled with peacocks that kindly (or not depending on how much sleep you want) provide the neighborhood with an alarm clock.
S had been in the flat, metres from the place, for nearly two years without ever setting foot in the library but was finally convinced by a combination of my persistence and the fact that upstairs there was a rather interesting looking exhibition of Finnish illustration for children's literature. It was only a small exhibit, just four rooms but I thought it was exceptionally well done and some of the images were amazing. I love children's literature, something I inherited from my mum and the pictures on display here were very much of the kind that don't patronise children. There are no 'cartoons' but well expressed drawings, many did tell a story but I think that the most important thing in many of them was what was absent, allowing the imagination to flow. It was interesting seeing them on the walls, out of context of the books that many of them were drawn for, and without the words and stories they were designed for. We were very lucky to catch the exhibition as I think it's only around for another couple of days. I also managed to get an impromptu Portuguese lesson as I went round translating all the titles of the works.
After the library we had arranged to go round to J & R(J)'s for dinner. I have to admit that at first the idea didn't thrill me, I was tired and I just wanted a stress free, chilled out evening but in the event I had a really good time. Dinner was just chicken, salad and potatoes with an excellent cake for desert. The conversation was nice and relaxed and then we just all sat down together to watch a film. R(J) had just got a new harddrive media player linked to his TV so as he downloads most of the films he watches he can just put them on there. I wasn't hugely thrilled with the selection on off (Saw V anyone?!?) but in the end we decided to watch The Fall which was not bad, some beautiful cinematography and stunning settings but was a little unsatisfactory in the end. I was just left wondering what really was the point of the film other than as an excuse to show all the wonderful settings...still...better than Saw V.
The journey home was memorable for all the wrong reasons unfortunately. As you can just make out on the last photo of the library we were making our way in the car across that junction at about 1:30-2:00am the light turned green for us and we set off only to almost smash into a car going at about 80mph through the red light out of the tunnel (which is just obscured by the building). The exit of the tunnel onto the junction is completely blind so S had no time to react whatsoever and I'm really not exaggerating to suggest that a second either way and the crash would have been fatal. I was incensed and S was obviously extremely shaken. She had to stop as soon as possible, despite only being metres from home, and take a few deep breaths. I was eager for her to race around to the next junction where we might catch them and I could have a few choice words for them but it was probably not wise at that point as I was so mad I think I could've killed them with my bare hands. I might laugh and joke and exaggerate about the driving here but a lot of the time it is no laughing matter, it's dangerous and a scandal that the police just look the other way.
After the scare yesterday S unfortunately had more driving to do today as we went to the parents' for lunch again. It was only really going to be a quick visit to drop things off that had been left after the birthday party but it turns out that S's mum had been sneakily preparing a meal for us and she's convinced that I'm too thin. It was really nice to spend time with them anyway and I do really appreciate the way they've accepted me into the family. So it was with mixed feelings that we had to dash off because we had other plans.
Earlier in the week I had proudly purchased (in my best Portuguese, without a bit of English!) two tickets to see The Sound and the Fury at Culturgest which is a theatre attached to the huge bank building at the end of our street (the rather fascistic building you see on the right of the last library photo). The play was going to be in English and I had read the novel before so it was cheating but I was still looking forward to it.
I have been to Culturgest a number of times now and it is a really good venue putting on a wide range of interesting cultural events. My favourite by far has so far been the Lisbon Documentary festival last year which I very much hope will be on again this year.
For this performance they were using the main auditorium which holds maybe 600-700 but in order to make the experience more intimate they had constructed a smaller and steeper bank of seating directly in front of the stage. It was a good job because the performance was so intense and required such a lot of concentration it was good to be as close to the stage as possible. Those of you who know the novel will appreciate that The Sound and the Fury would not be an easy play to adapt for the stage and so it proved. They had dispensed with the last three quarters to concern themselves with the first complete day of the novel. The sense of disjointed time and incoherence was achieved by having the actors playing several characters throughout the play (without regard to sex or race) and by having large parts read by actors at various times. This was combined with sections of loud music and dancing and had quite a shocking, almost tiring effect overall.
I don't think the play was bad but I couldn't get rid of the feeling that (like the film seen last night) it was produced just to be able to say that it had been. I thought the performances from the actors, especially the woman who played Benjy for the majority of the play, were very good (with the exception of the 'girl' who played mother for the large part, she hammed it up a little) and the set design was very good, although it felt like they had in some way limited themselves by having quite an overstocked mise-en-scene when perhaps something more minimalist would have given them more scope for imagination.
It's back to work tomorrow and whilst it's been a reasonably packed weekend I do feel quite rested and it's good to get the old grey cells ticking in many different ways as otherwise I think things could feel quite stressed.
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