In where I am at least 90% positive about Portugal...

It has been claimed, in the past week, that I am unduly harsh in my criticism of Lisbon and Portugal, and that my blog is filled with moans and whinges. This is a charge that I firmly deny and it has taken me a good few days to find a suitable riposte. Sadly I am without the incisiveness of the originator I paraphrase but as Dickens once said of America, 'To represent me as viewing Portugal with ill-nature, coldness or animosity, is merely to do a very foolish thing, which is always a very easy one.'

To that end this post will be filled with nothing but effusive praise, something which I can assure my readers is not forced and I am not short of. The past week has been a trying one for a number of reasons but has not been without its highlights, it has been in turn hectic, stressful, painful and nausea inducing.

Last Thursday was an almost entirely positive day, I had been having a rather productive week at work, my paper is coming on well and there has suddenly been an influx of resources for my subject matter. They're not particularly good resources, most of them are either badly out of date, overly specific or else American (urgh, they should not be allowed to write seriously on the subject of drugs!) and we also had a chuckle at the INCB report that came out and seemed to have been written from the stone age. It really was like a drugs report that you'd expect your grandma to write, absolutely no comprehension of the realities in the world and they even managed to get the name of this organisation wrong (using the word Abuse rather than Addiction, Abuse is a term rarely if ever used here). I also did a few bits and pieces for colleagues including editing an interesting paper on drugs policy analysis.

Late in the afternoon I had the pleasurable surprise of spotting a job that I would love. I wouldn't say I would be perfect for it as I'm hugely inexperienced and under qualified but in the spirit of 'nothing ventured, nothing gained' I applied. It's with the UN in Vienna in the human trafficking department of UNODC as a project coordinator. There was also a job in a higher grade that was specifically in the field of drugs but the experience they were asking for was 7 years and I thought this was asking a bit much plus the vacancy I did apply for actually had experience in drug supply control as an advantageous requirement. I will probably hear nothing from it but I would like to keep in the habit of applying for jobs and updating my CV as it's never an easy task and one can easily get out of practice. It would be great to get some form of feedback from the application but I am realistic about my prospects.

Friday was spent largely on errands, I had to go to the supermarket and pick up a few things but I also had to pop over to the Universidade Nova de Lisboa to sign up for my Portuguese language course. I felt it best to start at the beginning because even though I know a few phrases and can get by with some basics I don't want to carry on with any of the bad habits I might have picked up. Plus this way I can always be the first person in the class with my hand up, a habit I have never grown out of. My schedule now is quite good, there are two classes a week, each two hours long. I'll be there Monday 18:00-20:00 and Friday 18:00-20:00. The Friday classes are particularly convenient as soon S will be returning to classes and we can meet for dinner and chats, in fact we'll actually be in the same building which will be fun.

On the way back from the faculty I had the opportunity to take a photograph of one of my favourite bits of graffiti in Lisbon. This is a building which from the looks of it is still occupied, although possibly by squatters. It's one of the classic bits of crumbling Lisbon that I love, the faded decadence. I'm not a big fan of the renovations that you see popping up everywhere and even less the new buildings but these crumbling monuments are wonderful.



Someone here is evidently a fan of acid and wishes to proclaim it on one of the busiest roads in Lisbon. Over the next few weeks I'll have to try and grab photos of my other favourite bits of graffiti. The city is excellent for it but sadly the suburbs just seem to be full of scribbles and tags. As I learn more of the language I'm also finding more and more amusing and political phrases scribbled around so I'll try and get some of those too.

Friday evening was a break from the studying that had kept S occupied all week. We had planned a visit to the cinema to see Mike Leigh's Happy Go Lucky (the DVD of which I remember expressly planning on stealing from my mum's last time I was there but I forgot). We had invited a few people but in the end it was just J who responded so rather than the effort and expense we decided to have a chilled night in, I would cook and we could watch of the DVDs S had borrowed from her boss which were (ahem) completely legal!

As it turned out it was really quite fortunate that this was the plan as S had, in the course of the day, picked up some stomach bug. S has notoriously sensitive digestive system and I hoped it was just a case that she'd drunk some milk within 24 hours of eating an orange or something innocuous like that that had set her stomach growling but it soon became apparent that it was something a bit more serious. It was for the best that we decided to stay in, J and I shared a rather overstuffed ham, mushroom and goats cheese Calzone that I prepared and which S quite rightly didn't want to risk and then we set about watching Woody Allen's latest bit of fluff, Vicky Christina, Barcelona.

I never expected the film to be a masterpiece but neither was it awful. It did leave me wondering why on earth Penelope Cruz was nominated for best supporting actress at the Oscars (but it was no stranger than Josh Brolin's nomination for Milk). The girls of course swooned over Javier Bardem who is quite obvious in his Latin charm whilst I was left with a disappointing Scarlett Johansson who is becoming blander and blander as time passes and Rebecca Hall who looked much more awkward than in her (admittedly pointless but glamorous) role in Frost/Nixon. I was pleased to note, though, that some of the indoor action in Barcelona was shot in a bar I visited last summer at Primavera Sound, a very cool little absinthe bar which at the time was filled to the rafters with indie kids. (Incidentally the film also reminded me to give another listen to one of the most underrated, and sometimes mocked, albums of 2008 - Scarlett Johansson - Anywhere I Lay My Head.)

Saturday and Sunday consisted of me doing a bit of cleaning and tidying, a lot of reading and actually making a return to running...something which on Monday I paid the price for dearly when my muscles were so sore I could barely walk. S on the other hand had to contend with food poisoning whilst writing a paper on European politics. I have immense respect for this women managing to get it all done. Had I written this on Sunday I would've made some comment about her not knowing the term 'suffer in silence', Saturday was a rough night in which stomach pains kept her awake and she in turn ensured I knew she was being kept awake, however as Monday arrived and S had recovered, thanks to a diet of entirely white and tasteless food, I felt the first rumblings of something strange in my own stomach.

Through the increasing stomach cramps and the severe muscle strain from the run the night before I managed to waddle my way to work on Monday morning looking like a cross between a cowboy after a long ride and Raoul Duke and Dr Gonzo entering the Casino. I soon realised I had made a big mistake, I stuck it out at my desk for a couple of hours on the off chance it would go away but it was here to stay and so I dashed back home to curl up in bed. Here again praise should be heaped upon S because despite my less than sympathetic dealings with her convalescence (which consisted of preparing her white and tasteless food) she was very supportive, kind and loving despite the downright awful timing of my own illness. It was Carnival time and I had taken the day off on Tuesday so we could go out dancing on Monday. It turned out that by dancing time I did feel a lot better but we decided that it wasn't worth the risk to my health, better to get well then have the fun than spend the week regretting it.

Tuesday was a holiday here in Lisbon but rather than spending it with the anticipated hangover we instead were clear headed and thankful for the rest. We spent the morning having a big lie in and chatting and then drove to Estoril in the afternoon for lunch with the parents. It had been for the plan for me to take it easy with the food for a couple of days but I simply could not resist the Cozido à Portuguesa that S's mum had prepared which is pork and sausages (chouriço and morcela) and vegetables (lots of cabbage, carrot and turnip) boiled together and served with rice and beans. I avoided the blood sausage but otherwise had a pretty healthy appetite after my enforced fast of the previous day. After the meal we went for a drive with J to get a drink by the beach.

This was rather a pleasant drive, if a little longer than anticipated. It seemed that all of Lisbon was at the beach that day and therefore the roads were jam packed. We were predicting that that will be the story of the summer because as the credit crunch hits then people are not going to be visiting the Algarve or going shopping, they'll stick near to home.

After tea, beer and scones were consumed we made out way back to Estoril. It was good to spend some time with J and you get the impression she really enjoys the company now that she's split up with R. We dropped her off at her dad's and returned to S's parent's to watch the football. It was Man United v Inter and for 90 minutes me and S's dad could be united in our hatred of Jose Mourinho. It was a fascinating match, one which I believe was a definite moral victory for Man United and I definitely think I'm making some progress in making the Manchester Reds an adoptive team for him, as Benfica are now mine here.

Yesterday was spent doing some rather stressful party organising. 2 many DJs are playing a bar in Belem and I managed to get a few colleagues here interested in going, as well as a few of S's friend. The venue isn't great, it's expensive and posey and full of betalhada and it's a school night but the opportunities to get a few people out sadly don't come around too often and I think think some people could do with a little unwinding. So tonight will consist of going for a lovely Indian meal before drinks and dancing. It's been quite a while since I had a proper night out and I'm really looking forward to it.

The Daily Grind...

So today has been an unusually pleasant day here in my office, things haven't been particularly productive for me of late, I really have found things an uphill struggle but (to add another cliché here) I think I've turned a corner.

The day started really quite well and was one of those strange Hollywood style openings. I walk the same route to work each day and whilst not too exciting I find it a pleasant enough journey. As anyone who commutes on a daily basis, and keeps to a regular routine, will know you tend to bump into the same people every day. These are people whose names you will never know and who you will probably never speak to. I have noticed that people here have a habit of making eye contact here a bit more than in the UK. In fact if anything I felt quite voyeuristic in the UK as I would always be staring at people as they made their way around with their heads down or with a glazed expression on their faces. Here there is much more of a chance of actually making eye contact with someone although it is nice to note that when this does happen the natural human evasiveness kicks in and people have the decency to look embarrassed.

Today was different, whether they had slipped something in the water that gave everyone in Lisbon a good night's sleep or if the wide availability of cheap drugs here had reached epidemic proportions I don't know but today at least five of my regular fellow commuters made concerted eye contact and smiled at me. I was a little unsure at first and thought the first couple might have just been thinking of something amusing on television last night or perhaps one of the tank-like grandmothers that populate Lisbon had slipped over behind me. After the fourth and fifth smile I really thought something must be wrong with me, either my fly visibly open or breakfast down my front or (and this a particular favourite) toothpaste round my mouth. On getting into the office I immediately checked myself and my appearance was nothing out of the ordinary so I had to assume that people were in a good mood and I could indeed follow suit.

When I finally settle down at my computer I find that overnight my inbox has filled with articles and studies to keep me busy for the day, including links to one report by the US DEA which seems right up my alley. The only problem with this is that all record of it on the internet has been removed, there are articles that cite it and dead links to it but the actual report itself remains tantalisingly elusive.

There was a rather dull meeting this afternoon which I had to endure, it was much a meeting for the sake of having a meeting, giving the illusion that everyone is being kept in the loop and that communication in here is fine and dandy. After the meeting I got talking to one of the scientists, Isabelle, and then the strangest thing happened...she invited me into her office to sit down and have a talk. The shock of this had me babbling for a while, to be honest I haven't really faced any impromptu questions on my work and to begin with I was at a loss for answers but her enthusiasm (despite her own work being in a completely different field to my own) put me at ease and it was actually one of the most useful and productive talks I've had. It set my mind buzzing with ideas and I think my work will have much more focus now.

The greatest arguement ever...

So yesterday was a pretty tough day, in fact the highlight of the day came technically today at about 00:35.

Mondays are always frustrating days and we (me and S) knew it was going to be a tough one before it even started. S had spent much of the weekend working on her paper which was due at midnight last night. Going into Monday there was still quite a lot of work to do so she had planned to spend some of her time at work working on it as well as the whole evening. Unfortunately that plan started to unravel early on. I received a phone call not long after getting in from S saying that she had forgotten to email the paper to herself and so would have to essentially work blind. I offered in my most reluctant of tones to go back home and send it to her but through some force of female intuition she realised that I wasn't looking forward to the extra hour walking and declined the offer. I am bad and I will be going to hell.

So I started on my own work filled with guilt and irritation (the usual emotions of Monday mornings but not for the usual reasons) and realised that everything I had spent the last week writing was unfounded rubbish, true but unfounded. I'm supposed to be doing research on drug mules and there is nothing out there! Nothing other than generic rubbish or studies that are so specific as to be of very little use to assess the European perspective. I successfully fought the temptation to delete everything and start again and instead found myself writing without even attempting to find justification or evidence knowing that the vague reports I have will cover me and that as a research recommendation I can suggest further study in particular areas to strengthen the evidence.

The problem here is to not be seen to be in any way political. It's almost like reaching conclusions are anathema. It's frustrating but despite this organisation being packed to the rafters with experts we have been told that they shouldn't be making the conclusions, they're for politicians to make after they've carefully ignored the evidence of the experts, but when the conclusions are as clear as day it's almost insulting to the intelligent man not to mention them. I got a phone call on Friday from a lawyer I had been put in contact with through an old colleague. He was extremely helpful and enthusiastic about the project (providing that I was more focused than the in rambling email I sent him) which surprised me to a large extent as I know how busy people are. Unfortunately but predictably when I reported this to my colleagues there was an immediate note of caution. We (I) can't be seen to be going over the head of the established contact points despite being told that it's essential for us to nurture our own networks of information.

With my head ringing from the contradictory instructions and feeling that this study is nothing more than a hassle to my colleagues I set about my day's work trying not to get under anyone's feet. The day in the office was remarkably uneventful...lunch was a pleasant affair at the usual place and consisted of alheira grelhado com ovo a really greasy smoked chicken sausage, grilled with a fried egg on top, served with rice, chips and greens. It's a real man's lunch and I am always being mocked by my continental colleagues - they claim I have a typically English attitude to eating but I don't think this is particularly fair. I have put on a little weight since I have been here, but not a great deal, especially considering I've only been running a couple of times since I arrived. I do like my big lunches and some are incredibly fatty but I avoid most dairy products (they're really not a patch on milk/butter/cream from the UK) and I have much lighter dinners. Plus I don't snack as much despite the constant temptation of the omnipresent pastelarias.

The afternoon passed mercifully quickly but before I left I had the idea of ringing my mum for a quick chat. I hadn't spoken to her in a while and we have free VOIP calls here at work for international personal calls so I thought I would take advantage of that. I ring the house phone, no answer, I ring the mobile, no answer, I ring the house phone again, no answer, I ring the mobile again, no answer. Now I'm not the angriest person in the world, I perhaps used to be but I have definitely calmed in my old age. One of the few things that is still guaranteed to annoy me beyond all reason is people not picking their phones up. I think it a common courtesy that if you're busy and don't want to answer your phone you switch it off and put it on voicemail, otherwise there is absolutely no excuse for not picking up a mobile phone. I know it's something we're all guilty of, even me, it might be in our pocket or we don't hear it but seriously, look at the statistics, I probably have no more than 3 or 4 missed calls a month. When I rule the world, more than 10 and you lose phone privileges.

As you can imagine from my unreasonable rant now, when actually confronted by an unanswered phone I was near apoplectic and so I stormed out of work in a deeply irritated mood. By the time I met S I was in a somewhat calmer frame of mind but over the course of the evening I was deeply unkind and unhelpful and S was getting increasingly panicky and silly. We were just working completely at counterpoint to each other but then followed one of the best arguments I have ever had...

After about four hours of not talking to each other, in fact it reached the point of very actively ignoring one another, we had a blazing row, 15 minutes of shouting and accusations followed by silence. A silence in which it struck me how silly the whole thing was, I was hit by the ridiculousness and childishness of my own actions and S's reactions and I let out a giggle. A giggle that quickly turned into a chuckle which was particularly contagious and soon we were both in fits of laughter, wrapped round each other and all was forgiven.

Today we felt like a team again but unfortunately it's back to the grindstone as the next paper is due on Sunday evening and much reading and research has to be done before then.

This morning was a lot easier and therefore a lot more productive. As usual I didn't see many people until lunch time but had a good chat with my colleagues about the progress of the Annual Report and the problems that have arrisen into it. It's great getting these sorts of insights. I broached the subject of me taking a day off next week, it's Carnival and the plan is for lots of drinking and dancing to be done. It was no problem for me to take the day off because it's not like I'm getting paid to be here. We also discussed an interview that the director was giving today on drugs from Asia. One of my colleagues was responsible for briefing him beforehand. We asked him what he told the director and he said,
"I told him what we know, Heroin comes from Asia."

This is why they get paid and I don't!

Valentine's Day and all that Jazz...

I realise it has been quite a while since I published anything really worth reading in this thing and I am damn sure that I don't want to get out of the habit. The simple and boring truth is that life at the moment has settled down in to a somewhat regular, that is to say not at all boring, pace. I have been finding it increasingly more difficult to find the time and will to write here, especially given my own high expectations of quality. In shorthand, I can't always muster the wit I wish I had.

Nevertheless many things have been going on and I will attempt to revisit and review events of the past as soon as I can so please continue to check back when I will attempt to write fuller accounts of my new colleagues, international conferences and especially the amazing experience of meeting some of S's more (ahem) posh friends.

This weekend has really seen the sun come back to Portugal which has seemed something like the return of an old friend. I was really quite ill the weekend before, and for the early part of last week, with a chest bug that I picked up from one of the delegates at the international conference I went to on the 5th and 6th. Combined with the germs brought to Lisbon from all corners of Europe S and I found ourselves the proud foster parents of a cat who I'm sure didn't really make things worse but who I like to blame all the ills of the world on. Here's the devil himself (photo by V, his loving mum):



So now we've had this visitor for the past few days and V & C have been here looking for their new abode. It looks like they've finally got a place and they seem really happy with it which I'm really pleased about. They weren't big fans of Manchester at all so it's good for them to be able to return to a city that they love so much.

For me this weekend was much as the last couple. S has some big deadlines for her MA so Saturday daytime was largely spent working on this. Unfortunately for me she's gone from one subject that I flatter myself into thinking I'm relatively well informed on (American history and politics) to one that I am largely clueless about (a rather specific policy principle of the EU), I am learning lots but for me anyway it's not a topic of particular interest. I try to be as much help to S as possible but really in this sense it's more as a sounding board for S to try bouncing her own ideas off. At this stage I think it would take me a little too long to thoroughly learn the subject myself.

All this intense study and debate has of course brought to the fore the question of my own future and plans for my own development. The latest idea (this is perhaps a little unfair, the idea has been knocking around for a long time, if anything it is becoming more clearly defined) is for me to do an MA here in Lisbon. I have looked at the institutions and there are a couple of likely courses in political science but there are, inevitably, problems in these choices. I have discussed my concerns with S and she thoroughly understands that it is going to be difficult for me to do an MA course in Portuguese from what is essentially a standing start (even though my Portuguese language course starts in a couple of weeks) and I have deep concerns about the quality of the institutions and the teaching. The idea of international prestige is another concern to me, especially if in the future we were to leave Portugal and try and get jobs elsewhere. The simple fact is that whether I like it or not, whether I agree with it or not, my CV does have a hole where an MA should be. These are not concerns that can or even should be addressed straightaway but some things to bear in mind.

Saturday being Valentine's day meant of course that studying was postponed until a lovely breakfast, (pancakes made by me!) with delicious homemade (by S's mum) orange marmalade and fruit juice and coffee, was eaten. Being poor as the proverbial church mice we didn't exchange presents of cards (we're almost amongst those hip, cynical people, who think that Valentine's day is for those in failed relationships, as those who know us will testify, we're sickeningly gushy all the time so don't need a day to celebrate this) instead we wrote some cool messages and drew some hearts on out big blackboard wall. After breakfast I then attempted not to disturb S which inevitably mean that I made more of a nuisance than if I had actually been trying. I am one of those worst kind of readers...the ones who constantly laugh out loud and have to share interesting snippets...so I then thought it might be for the best if I ran a few errands, leaving S in peace. I went to the pastalaria on the corner to pick up lunch and then came back and did a little tidying. I then decided to go to the supermarket and pick up a couple of things for the evening, namely a bottle of vodka and limes for caipirinhas and some ice cream.

On my return I set about making a meal for my hard working girl and had decided on an old staple, my vegetarian chilli. It had been a while since I had made a proper meal and it really felt good to be back in the kitchen. We have got used to a routine of big lunches and then just soup or salad for dinner so it was nice to be able to get my knives out. As well as that, considering the amount of meat I now but away on a daily basis it was good to be able give it a rest.

The meal was a success to an extent that even surprised me, especially considering the amount of wine I had put away (or it may just be that the wine inspired that feeling of success). After the meal we decided to make our caipirinhas and get quietly drunk with each other but at this time we received some rather bad news. S got a message from J asking to ring her as soon as possible and it turns out that J and R had split up. The timing was particularly dreadful but I don't think in this case there would ever have been a good moment to call time on an 8 year relationship. The details are personal between J and R but a prime reason seems to be that they just want different things in life, something that makes me even more happy to have found someone who shares my ambitions and goals.

S was obviously very shocked and upset by the news as it had come totally out of the blue and she was deeply concerned for her friend but J is strong and if anyone can cope with something like this then it is her.

In the end we did succeed in getting more then a little drunk but it had been such a draining day (for S rather than me, I'm just a drunkard) that we fell asleep in front of a film with barely 10 minutes of it watched.

Sunday was remarkably hangover free and we had planned for a long time to take a walk by the beach. It had originally been the plan for the weekend before but I was too ill and the weather wasn't great. Yesterday I could actually take my coat off and breath. We woke late and had a quick brunch out before leaving for Estoril and making our way down the surprisingly packed promenade. We had a leisurely walk in the sun and did a bit of people watching, amazingly people were sunbathing in bikinis already.

We walked all the way into Cascais and then had a wander through town. It was very interesting to hear S talking about her memories from childhood there and hearing about all the places she used to go. It was also good to hear her opinions on the Cascais of then to what it is now. We walked to the park and watched the peacocks there for a little while before bumping into an English colleague of mine who was out with his little daughter.

After the walk we decided to pop round to the in-laws who then surprised us with a late lunch, hmmm....it was like it was all planned or something...it was as usual delicious but S had to dash off to meet J who was nearby at her dad's. Understandably they had a lot to talk about so I stayed at the in-laws and had an afternoon of football. First Derby v Man United then Inter v Milan followed by Porto v Rio Ave. It was a lot to take in one afternoon but it was enjoyable and I wasn't flayed by the cat which is always a bonus. S only returned rather late so by the time we arrived back in Lisbon there was little time to do anything other than heat some soup and get into the second episode of the second season of the Wire...which frustratingly is really not living up to the first season yet.

All this talk of romance and relationships etc put me in mind of this article I read the other day. Maybe this woman's problem is that she obviously has some problem communicating in the real world. I do realise the irony of me whinging about 'new media' from my blog, I really do, but I really really hate all this talk of Facebook (yes I have one which I very occasionally use) and Twitter (which I also have but have never used or even looked at) and other blogs as a substitute for real life. No it's not the same as real life, no, friends or relationships on the internet are not the same as those in real life! It's not the real world, it's an escape where opinions can go unchecked and unverified, which communication is filtered, repackaged and dumbed down. I am forever thankful that I am with one of the few people, it seems, who are completely disinterested in 'social networking'. I remember the months and months we spent apart when people would comment things like, "at least you have Skype" without realising that these tools just made it all the more striking that we were hundreds of miles apart and only served to emphasise the distance. Thankfully those days are over now.

Conferences, cats and coughs...

For the past two days I have found myself at my first big international conference. Granted it was here in Lisbon, in the second office that my organisation has in a rough part of town and granted I was by far the most excited person to be there but it was still interesting and I still enjoyed myself!

The subject of the conference was Cannabis production and markets and therefore right up my street (cue here jokes about my unusually large electricity bill and pungent 'pot-pourri'). There was a reasonably large selection of delegates from the member states with a couple of notable exceptions - both Spain and the Netherlands were missing - but it did give me a good opportunity to note the national stereotypes, something which S says she is now quite adept at, being much more experienced in these international conferences and meetings than I am.

It was rather amusing going round the table without paying attention to the name tags and trying to figure out which country each person was from. Even with little experience of this and solely with my own natural prejudices I had a pretty high success rate. It was interesting to note though that for the most part the older the delegate the easier to spot the origin. The younger ones for a large part were harder to distinguish, this was apart from the young German chap who looked like a villain from Biggles and the Portuguese guys who despite looking physically completely different both look like they had had a fight with your typical Portuguese men's clothes shop and lost. I often joke about there being some conformity here in Portugal but it was amusing seeing them both in almost identical 'country' shirts, zippered pullovers, chinos and slip-on shoes. The Romanians also looked startlingly like vampires (as well as having an evident thirst for justice).

What was also amusingly typical was the views expressed by the various nations. There is a stereotypical idea on who the more liberal and progressive nations are compared to those with a harder, conservative, line and also those nations whose 'focal points' don't always toe the governmental line and those who still feel the secret police are watching. I don't need to go into details here as there were no great surprises and I'm sure your own prejudices can do the work.

The first day was spent listening to a couple of rather interesting presentations on work being done to evaluate the markets in the UK and in Ireland (the UK invariably being one of the countries to do the most research into the subject, along with France and possibly Portugal). There then followed a rather poorly received presentation on how focal groups could be used for research purposes. No-one doubted they could but what was quite evident from an early stage was that most people present felt that for tis particular area of research, given the time limits and other constraints, they wouldn't be of much use. This pretty much deflated the bubble that this interesting and enthusiastic speaker had created and I have to admit that by the end of the question and answer section he did seem a bit like a broken man.

At lunch, and in the coffee breaks, the conference divided into rather predictable lines, there were the older, law enforcement, suite-y types on one side and the younger, more casual public health types on the other. Occasionally there would be some enthusiastic delegate or a member of my office trying to bridge the gap. Lunch was a pleasant affair and something that in these international situations is always bound to stir debate. I don't know if it was a point of Portuguese pride amongst the caterers but I have been informed that at most of these events there is a bacalhau dish. I avoided this and chose a salad as I'm not sure how much more salt my poor heart can take for the moment but it looked good and went down reasonably well.

The evening gave a little chance for some networking as we had a dinner booked at a little Tapas Bar near the Marquês de Pombal. I had to dash back to the flat between the conference and the dinner because I was dressed perhaps a little too formally for a casual networking dinner but being me I of course both forgot an umbrella, thus getting soaked, and also arrived bang on time, thus looking extremely uncool. I decided to pop into a little cafe nearby and have a quick coffee before braving the earliness but luckily I bumped into the Irish delegation, Johnny and Ann-Marie who persuaded me to change my coffee for a quick beer. We had a nice chat before joining the rest for the meal and managed to steer clear of shop talk which was good.

I really enjoyed the tapas bar despite the food having a distinctly Portuguese flavour (not that this in itself is bad but I had geared myself up for Spanish food, it is pretty hard to find good foreign food in Lisbon) and the stools and tables being particularly close to the floor. There was also the danger of it being a free bar but I do find it amusing to see people starting slowly, with beer or wine, not wanting to appear to be taking advantage of this policy, then they get more adventurous, maybe order a spirit and mixer, then onto the cocktails before finally just asking to be hooked up intravenously to the vodka! It was definitely a good way of loosening a few collars and getting the conversation flowing.

I spent a good part of the evening talking to Ann-Marie whose political outlook on life seemed to be dangerously influenced by Ayn Rand. I was always taught that if you have nothing nice to say then don't say anything at all (a mantra that i studiously ignore 99% of the time but this night I had drunk myself into a state of magnanimity) so I moved the subject onto rugby which Ann-Marie and the UK delegate Charlotte (who was Welsh) seemed only too keen on. It's the first year in a long time that English chances in the Six Nations have been so low and they were happy to point this out. As with most chats about rugby (as opposed to say football) the banter was light hearted with no malice so it was an evening well spent.

I came home a little worse for wear to find life invaded by 'the cat'. Me and 'the cat' have a long and complicated history but this was his first taste of Portugal because he too is moving here from Manchester. V & C brought him over and he's staying at mine and S's until they get a place so it was important for us to lay some ground rules down, the primary one's being: he's banned from the bedroom, he eats when we say he eats and any dirty business and he can clean it up himself. I firmly believe in tough love when it comes to animals and children!

Today was a tough day, the look on most delegates' faces in the second morning of the conference showed that most had spent much longer out than me. This meant that the meeting was much more subdued than the day before and there were a few sheepish latecomers sneaking in after the first presentations. I was also feeling a little down but rather than the expected hangover I blame this on spending the evening in such a smokey atmosphere. It's now 7 months since I quite smoking and a good 18 months since I was in such a smokey bar for an extended period. I never thought I'd admit that the smoking ban was a good idea (and I still think some venues have lost a lot of atmosphere, if you'll excuse the pun) but for purely selfish reasons last night really felt like a regression. My throat is now killing me, me clothes from last night stink, all those boring and self-righteous anti-smoking complaints are true!