And complaining voraciously.
This was taken at the Expo '98 site. A cold and dark Lisbon day.
By nature I don't complain. I just silently steam. A few minutes of silently frothing is worth an hour of rowing with another. Complaining out loud gives those around you some kind of free licence to do one of two things:
- complain louder (which means they win, you lose)
- disgree with you (which means there is no winner. Unless you excercise the right to force them to talk to the hand. But then a whole new ball-game opens up ... the grudge one)
I was cold so I wore layers - indoors and out. My Portuguese Man (PM) tried ignoring me but I'm too persistent. And let's face it, misery loves company so I doggedly harangued him until he either gave in or was in genuine agreement (not sure which it was).
I moaned about:
- the temperature drop
- the rain
- the fact that January is always colder than February
- the lack of brolly etiquette held by Lisboettas (trust me - they have none whatsoever)
- the lack of indoor heating (and no Portugal ... just because you don't have your own natural gas I'm not interested - it's not an excuse. Swallow your pride and buy it from Spain)
- being tired - which was nothing to do with the weather but I was on a roll
Another cold shot. No umbrellas inculded.
Or at least some kind of training introduced into the National Curriculum (here) that educates the good people of Portugal that:
- your umbrella does not have to be big enough to cover a family of five
- you have to give way to people that are walking sem guarda-chuva
- you simply cannot expect to poke someones eye out and not have to deal with the consequences