Dubrovnik, Croatia ... first impressions and first photos - The 22nd of April 2017

I reached Dubrovnik airport after having had a stop over at Vienna airport and despite feeling tired I headed to the Old city centre soon after, in order not to loose any of the available precious time. Prior to leaving the luggage at the hotel I had booked  and as I got off the airport bus at the Pile Gate I started taking photos ... it was almost imperative, like an unexplainable inner call ... 

Details ... always seem to get my attention and the fountain right in front of the bus stop had such an effect on me ..., the fact that it is outside the walled city reminded me of something I had read that stated at one time Jews were not allowed to drink water from the fountains inside the walled city.

Saint Blaise being the patron Saint of the city could be seen almost anywhere as I would soon found out. Whithin just a few metres I came across two of his sculpted representations.

The moment I walked into the Stradun, Dubrovnik's main streeet I was drawn to the huge and rather interesting Big Onofrio's fountain, which bears the name of his constructor, the Italian Onofrio dell Cava, whose main objective in 1438 was to bring spring water from 12 kilometres away to the city's inhabitants.

To the side the bell tower and the amazingly beautiful portal of the Franciscan Church and Monastery and a few metres ahead the Kuniceva side street where Andio Bed and Breakfast  stood.

I was impressed with my hotel accommodation not only because of the decoration, which I felt was very sober and unique despite being angel oriented but also because I felt that it had a rather unique "personality".

I almost hesitated going out again because I had clearly made a mistake in selecting such lighter clothes when leaving Portugal and had realised I'd either buy some sort of coat or I'd be permanently cold. Enthusiasm led me to Stradun soon after once I acknowledged my tight schedule (if I was going to see what I had in mind) wouldn't allow me any hesitations. 

Funchal, Madeira island and the Refresher Course ... - The 18th, 19th and 20th of April 2017

I must confess I wasn't too enthusiastic with the prospect of having to travel to Funchal so as to carry out a total immersion-like Refresher Course and not be able to at least stroll around the city centre for one or two hours every evening over the three days I'd stay in Madeira island, but once there I realised that it was actually possible "using" one of my students' generosity (if I may call it as such) in driving me back to the heart of the city after the classes.

The hotel I stayed at was possibly one of the best organised I have been to so far ... though Madeira is clearly used to tourism, so nothing less would be expected from them, let alone Pestana Group.

 

 

 



The simple fact of having walked up and down hill at the end of a series of long working days and looked at the gardens, the flowers, the sea, the historical marks and the Cathedral's interior eased my soul and I can't deny I enjoyed every moment as much as I did being surrounded by the group of very few students I worked with over that period of time. 

 

 

Miguel, Francisco, Nuno, Jesus and Manel (from left to right)

 

The latest film I have watched ...

Based on the acclaimed book  My day in court with a Holocaust denier Denial takes us through the rather complex legal battle for historical truth, in which the burden of proof, according to the English legal system is, in this particular libel case, on the accused.

The film unfolds in an intimate-like type of setting revolving mostly around the court sessions and the court case, which at times is nerve wracking. What is surprising though is that never thoughout the film did I feel the case was being enacted, so real were the characters and their brilliant perfomances. 

 

"It's strangely refreshing to watch a courtroom drama where theatricality doesn't trump meticulous examination and cross examination." - James Berardinelli

"The excellent cast delivers the dramatic goods and a sequence involving a journey to Auschwitz provides a chilling reminder as to just what the legal arguments are really about." - David Stratton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The little gem I read overnight ...

Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls of gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.

First poem of 35 Sonnets of Pessoa, 1918

When I started reading Como Fernando Pessoa pode mudar a sua vida  - primeiras lições (How Fernando Pessoa might change your life - first lessons) by Carlos Pittella and Jerónimo Pizarro, I didn't know it would equally change my evening. The moment I immersed myself into its first chapters I couldn't stop.

Every chapter unveiled a facet of Pessoa I and, I personally believe, many people may have never heard of or associated with him - such as the invention of board games, caricatures and sketches, astrological maps (he designed himself), lists of a myriad of themes to be further explored, translated and put together, just to mention a few.  

This book is a little gem, that everyone should read, not so much to change one's life but to get to know a little bit better who Fernando Pessoa may have been (part of his huge written legacy hasn't yet been classified) beyond the poet we have got accustomed to identifying him as. 

 

The latest book I have read ...

"Of the vanity, the hatred, the shards of love, all that was left was dust and a sad spectacle of splendour and forgetfulness."

 

A broken mirror is an incredibly well articulated woven mosaic of a complex family saga that expands from the prosperous Barcelona of the 1870's through to the advent of the Franco dictorship, leading to an ultimate sense of loss inevitably attached to legacy.

I am not suprised Gabriel Garcia Marquez stated he was bedazzled by Mercè Rodoreda, an author I had never heard of, despite being considered one of the most important voices in Catalan Literature. Her meticulous analysis of the main characters in the saga, both physical and emotionally, as well as the environment, is very rich and almost intimate-like thus creating a sense of proximity.

"Enchanting ... a Nabokovian precision of observation." - Los Angeles Times



 

 

If it took me longer than it should have taken me because I didn't want those descriptions to end, having therefore reduced my reading rhythm to accommodate the almost immediate fascination for Rodoreda's style of writing. As always I have copied down some extracts, which I felt were either meaningful or resonated with me in some sort of way.




"To know the exact time is the most important thing in life. A man is made of seconds, of minutes."



"He had dreamt a different life, very different from the one he had lived (...) a life designed by his will rather than by circumstances, always thinking that he would have time to rectify it but ultimately with not much desire to rectify anything."



"He would wonder at each little thing, as if at every moment he were discovering the world."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The latest book I have read ...

I honestly believed there wouldn't be much more I could learn about Chagall, when I bought this Taschen edition on him and his artistic work, which would be an extra to add to all the ones bought in the past, but I was wrong.

Not only did I "fall in love" with him again but discovered a few facets of his life I hadn't even heard of before (how could it be !!.). As always I couldn' help writing down one of his most meaningful sentences.

 

 

 

"In our life there is a single colour, as on an artist palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the colour of love." - Mark Chagall








 

The latest films I have watched ...

The sole reason behind having recently watched two French films was the timetable they were being exhibited at, and though we are most commonly used to American and English films I must confess I don't dislike the French produced ones or even some of the foreign independent ones, whenever I have the possibility to watch them.

Mal de pierres, (whose translation in both Portuguese and English has apparently nothing to do with its original title) made me ponder on a few aspects I identified myself in and which I wouldn't have given it a thought, had I not seen it, namely the fact that being "stubbornly" rebellious and living too much in one's mind sometimes leeds to disappointements and reinforces fantasies which are not grounded except in one's head. I could almost see myself as a young teenager and adult in the main character (including the fact that I also suffer from kidney stone problems) and some of her reactions.

I can't overlook the fact that despite not being a film I would consider watching more than once (maybe because of some of the previous considerations) it did bring out the best of the three main performing actors, whose interpretation was outstandingly convincing.   

Medecin de campagne was a rather interesting film which portrays the reality of the village doctors in France (which is slightly different from the one in my home country, once it is now an "extinguished" category in regards to what is presented in the film) and every little situation therewith associated, despite touching a few equally interesting issues, which had me ponder on as well - how to handle an unexpected disease that ultimately requires to either reduce one's committment level in terms of routine and/or be effectively substituted, the feelings one has of being the best for the job at hand and the judgements one almost instinctively makes of others (the potential substitutes).

The actors were once more second to none in their performances, which leads me to almost inevitably have to openly celebrate the French Cinema industry.