So I’m still loving Lisbon. I know it’s been here about 2000 years (bloody Romans, what did they even do for Portugal???) but I like it as much as I did yesterday, if not more!! Possibly because we went to Belem for ‘the ultimate custard tart’, which was the 28 day cured Kobe beef served medium-perfect, to a Big Mac, compared to all the others. Which doesn’t mean all the others are not worth eating. Even more amazing, at the Pasteice Belem they cost 1.40 Euros. If they came from Gail’s they’d be £7.95. Paul’s Patisserie, £12.77. Because they don’t do pretentious here. They just do perfection.

And Lisbon is exceptionally beautiful. In its own way. It’s when you get out of the main city that it really gets fabulous though. Beautiful, spacious, everything well considered. It all seems to fit.

This morning we took a ‘Jewish tour’ of the city. We love those. Must have done at least a dozen, round Europe, Buenos Aries, Mumbai, loads. Wherever any Jew hath walked, we shall do a tour. To see where he went. Learn what he ate.

Portugal had a massive Jewish community. The ‘famous’ Spanish and Portuguese Sefardi Jews who still roam the planet from as far away as Golders Green to Tel Aviv. And beyond. Portugal loved its Jews, they were good at money, business, government, lots of things, back in 14 hundred and whatever. And then you get the bit which is repeated wherever you choose to do your Jewish touring. It’s always the same. Goes like this:

Then in 1523/1684/1422 a new king came to the throne. He then decided to throw all Jews out/convert all Jews to Christianity/slaughter all Jews for being too unCatholic. God made me do it. Or, that geezer with the dog-collar who speaks for God in all matters of torturing confessions and wholesale executions (economy of scale issues there). So they all left. Here’s where they used to live before it was burned to the ground/smashed to shit in pogroms/(in the case of Lisbon) destroyed in an earthquake. Pretty biblical in itself, as the earthquake was combined with a fire and a tsunami, as it was in 1755.

Yet modern day Lisbon is a tolerant place. Liberal. Accepting. Feels nice everywhere.

So we went to Belem to eat custard tarts. Because that’s what you do when the weight of history sits hard on your shoulders. Or when you just want to eat them.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx