We fly home today. 5 o’clock flight, in case you fancy picking me up from Heathrow. And who doesn’t love that trip? Which is why God invented the Elizabeth Line. Upon which special people (very very old ones) travel freeeeee!!!

It’s been truly fantastic. Yesterday we set a world record of over 26,000 steps walked. 10.2 miles in one day. Though the last 2 were walking back from dinner so we don’t remember much of that bit. But guessing, a fair bit was uphill. Lisbon is all uphill. Don’t know how those Romans, possibly Moors, arranged that but you NEVER walk downhill here, only up.

And I’d like to mention Belem. Again. Because (apparently) there’s much more too it than just the difinitive custard tart. There’s a history there. There’s intrigue, castles, monasteries, Portugal’s most famous tower, and there’s this fab memorial. The bit behind Mel.

I has a long list of names, commemorating the dead. As memorials do. Not sure when they died, I was too busy looking for selfie opportunities to bother about details. Similarly, the tower, next to this memorial is just wonderful. Worth a tenner Uber ride of anyone’s money.

Yet to actually go up the tower was more of a problem. There was a queue. Not just any queue but what we term a ‘fuk-dat!’ queue. Because the sign said ‘queuing time 2 hours’ and I said ‘fuk-dat!’ Because time is precious. Standing in 85 degrees for 2 hours is not fun. And I’d maybe have learned a few facts, but we have Wikepaedia for that, so who needs it? Similarly, the truly magnificent Monastery of someone or other had about 4 different, 2-hour queues outside. Fuk-dat! The tour coaches were arriving as fast as the Pasteis were being hauled out of the oven next door, dumping their cargo of camera-wielding, selfie-sticking, barge-you-out-the-waying… tourists!!!!

So it’s best if you invent your own history, it’s good, useful, dementia-defying creativity, to just jumble up these phrases, words and dates until it sounds plausible.

1427. Roman invasion. Moorish invasion. 1629. 1722. Burn a few Jews. Inquisition. Carlos V. Pedro IX. Paulo II. Republic.

And, based on past experience, whatever they tell you is forgotten before you’ve left the building. So why learn it in the first place when there’s sun to be bathed in, custard tarts to be eaten?

I’m thinking of starting a travel company called Impatient Tours. Surely I cannot be alone? (Again).

Happy Monday

A xxxx