RIP, Janan Hanna

Yesterday afternoon was hot and windy, something like a baby sirocco, kicking dust from the baseball field in the park behind our house. Eventually a smattering of rain came, and the wind died down. Not enough rain to soak anything, but toward the end of the day, enough to produce a large, vivid rainbow to the southeast.

Images naturally do its vividness no justice, but I made a few images anyway.rainbow rainbow

Also yesterday I thought about someone I don’t think much about, someone I hadn’t spoken to in over 15 years, when we were both at the funeral of a former coworker we had in common. When the person you think about is a journalist (among other things), it’s easy enough to check to see what she’s written lately, as I occasionally have done over the years. But not in the last two years at least. I know that because, to my shock, I found out she had died in August 2022 at only 59.

Her name was Janan Hanna, and we were close, once upon a time. Throughout 1989, to be specific, just before I left for Japan. RIP, Janan.

Wat Phra That Doi Suthep &c.

Hot weekend, at least for northern Illinois, which means temps touching 90° F. A little early for that, but not too far from the norm. It is summer, after all, never mind the exact date of the solstice.

Not as hot (or steamy) as Thailand 30 years ago. Thirty years? How did that happen? I know, one day at a time. In June 1994 we visited Chiang Mai, in northern Thailand, which we reached by rail from Bangkok. One day during the visit, we took a day trip to Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, as a lot of people do.

Written about a week later:

We were in Chiang Mai until June 21. They say it’s more manageable than Bangkok, but the traffic was every bit as fierce as Bangkok’s, just on a smaller scale, and with a good deal less traffic control, which is saying something. At first getting across any street was a chore, but by the second day it had gotten easier, though never easy.

That day (the 18th) we blew a bunch of money (all of $9) having a songthaew (siitor, sic) take us to Doi Suthep. We could have traveled there for a fraction of that, but the excellent breakfast at Montori – very very good pastries – must have put us in a less tight-fisted mood, and off we went.

Doi Suthep didn’t disappoint: a splendid wat, great and gilded and on a hilltop, up a winding park road.

Only partly up a winding park road. It was then a climb of 300-plus steps to reach the wat. If I were there now, I would think I should have visited 30 years earlier. Good thing I did.Wat Phra That Doi Suthep

The art of gilding at Thai wats is highly advanced. I assume this is one of the wat’s chedi, which tend to be done in gold leaf and contain a chamber for relics.The art of gilding at Thai wats is highly advanced. I assume this is a chedi, which tend to be done in gold leaf and contain a chamber for relics. When you have access to a gong, use it. That's what I always say.

When you have access to a gong, use it. That’s what I always say.

After our visit, the siitor (sic) man talked us into going shopping. We thought about refusing, but were a bit curious. He took us to a silver working shop, an umbrella factory, a lacquerware factory (I almost bought a lacquer egg) and of course a jewelry display room.

I can’t visualize that egg, but if I’d bought it, I’m sure it would be parked in my office even now with other debris from across the decades and continents. I might not even have to turn my head to see it.

Backyard Bunnies

In hopes of keeping the backyard rabbits from eating our budding tomatoes and other summertime plants, Yuriko has been leaving lettuce and carrots out for them. I’m not sure that will work. For one thing, they don’t seem interested. Bugs Bunny might eat carrots, but actual rabbits not so much.

Was Bugs ever seen eating anything else? I’m hardly the only person to ask that important question, and the answer is yes. I remember some of those listed cartoons, especially “Baseball Bugs” and “Hare We Go,” from which I might have learned the term mess, as in a place to eat. As for why carrots were the nosh of choice for Bugs, that was reportedly inspired by Clark Gable eating a raw carrot in It Happened One Night, a detail I’d forgotten.

A family of rabbits now occupy the backyard, including a large adult and two or maybe three juveniles, who are often spotted eating grass. They might live under the deck.

It’s hard to get close enough to them to capture an image. Even at a young age, rabbits are wary critters and fleet of foot. I figure they’ve taken to the yard this year, much more than previously, because there is no dog on patrol any more, and somehow they know it.

Summer Time

I was up around 5 am today, for the usual reasons, waking up from a dream about – a wedding reception in space? – and noticed the light of a new day out of the bathroom window. Light that has that certain twilight look, reflecting the fact that the sun is about to come up, like a big bald head. (I checked, sunrise was at 5:17 this morning, so I woke during civil twilight.)

At that blurry moment, it occurred to me, who’s bellyaching now about Daylight Saving Time? If we were still on Standard Time, sunrise would have been at 4:17 and civil twilight would have started at 3:43. Who would want that? Sure, early March might be too early to start DST – late April, as it used to be, would do.

At the other end of the day, June twilight lasts until just past 9 pm. Not everyone has a back yard or a deck, but I do, and I appreciate the daylight at that end as I sit outside. It’s called Summer Time in other countries for a reason.

Squirrels vs. Garage Bottles

The squirrels have been evicted from our garage. Or so it seems. As part of obtaining a new roof for that structure this spring, holes that had allowed squirrels access were plugged. But that wasn’t quite enough, since I spotted one clambering around the shelves before we left town last month. So I bought one of those electronic boxes that emits ultrasonic annoyances for rodent ears, and it has been running ever since. The creatures have made themselves scarce as a result.

They made their own special messes in the garage, of course, including tearing up paper and cardboard — a lot of it — as part of their nesting efforts. Even more annoying to me is that they acted as agents of chaos out in the garage after I spent time last summer cleaning the place up and arraying my bottle collection.

Maybe not “collection,” but the bottles that have accumulated over the years, partly from successive gabfests.

The squirrels broke a few of my bottles by knocking them down to the hard floor, but I’m glad that Monty Python’s Holy Ale and Leninade survived. And my Woop Woop ’04 verdelho, an Australian wine I bought when it was fairly new.

Félicette

Another gabfest has come and gone: the 10th anniversary event, since the first one was held on June 14, 2014. This should have been the actual 11th event, but it was only the 10th, since we skipped 2020. Or maybe I should consider it the 11th event anyway, like how the Olympics still regard the canceled Games (1916, 1940, 1944) as numbered Olympiads (VI, XII and XIII, respectively).

This year, rain came on Saturday afternoon, so for the first time, we stayed indoors, and I cooked the hamburgers and sausages inside, though I cooked inside in ’17 because of high winds. We had the same good old time, with old friends eating and drinking and talking, without reference to any hand-held electronic communications gizmos.

The main beer drinker didn’t come this year, as he was ill, so what little alcohol we drank consisted of white wine. With cat astronauts on the label. Today the weather was better, so I posed the bottle outside on the deck table.

The wine, which is French, is called Félicette. After a cat that the French shot into space in 1963.

We all know about Laika and Ham and Enos, and even Pigs in Space, but not Félicette. Could be she’s more famed in the French-speaking world. Good to know. Might even be a Trivial Pursuit answer. When was the last time I played that? Not since sometime in the 20th century, I think.

The Lüneburg McDonald’s

It’s a minor travel habit of mine to visit a McDonald’s in each country I visit, if there is one. Not as a source of comfort food, particularly, though I knew other gaijin in Japan who treated it that way.

Instead I’m curious to scope out any differences, such as the bouncers at the Moscow location, the availability of alcohol in various European locations (including Portugal), the occasional item that far exceeds anything at a USA McDonald’s – the wonderful McTeriyaki in Japan – or even tiny distinguishing details in something otherwise like a domestic restaurant. The one I visited in Australia might as well have been in the Midwest, except for the sign that said that 100% Australian beef was used, with notes to that effect on the boxes and wrappers.

The first non-American McDonald’s I visited must have been in Lüneburg, West Germany in 1983. I don’t think we went to one in the UK, though we did eat at a Wimpy’s, nor in the Netherlands, before our arrival in Lüneburg. But I know I did once we got there. The first visit wasn’t planned.

June 12, 1983

I discovered today that Frau Horsch probably isn’t going to supply us borders with toilet paper. An unpleasant discovery, this. At 9:45 in the evening I went out seeking that paper by which we all live and found it – where? – the public WC was closed, locked! Argh. McDonald’s was open, and I accessed its facilities for the price of a soda to go.

I went back a time or two for a fuller meal, though it couldn’t really compare with the chicken shack where you could get roast halb hähnchen mit pommes frites nor a number of other spots in Lüneburg.

I checked my envelope of paper debris from that trip, and remarkably found this (which was a little larger that the scanner bed). Or maybe not so remarkable, considering my idea of an interesting souvenir.German McDonald's place mat 1983

Through the marvel of Google Maps, I’ve determined that that location – which I think was near the Rathaus and the Marktplatz – doesn’t seem to be there any more. These days, you need to visit the main bahnhof or a 24-hour location north of the town center near (I’m not making this up) Hamburger Straße. Of course, that isn’t so odd when you realize that the road is named for the city of Hamburg, which isn’t far away.

Portuguese Mix

Early last year, I ordered a number of 4″ x 6″ tabletop flags from an online vendor that doesn’t happen to be Amazon. I have pocket change and postcards and tourist spoons and all kinds of bric-a-brac from the places I’ve been, so why not flags? One for each nation I’ve visited.

So I ordered a Portuguese flag last week, to add to the collection. While Macao was still administrated by Portugal when I visited in 1990, it was too much of a stretch to say I’d been to Portugal, until last month.

Something I never noticed on the flag – behind the shield of Portugal, which has a lore of its own – is an armillary sphere, a model of objects in the sky. A navigators’ tool, among other things, which fits Portuguese history nicely. A cool design element.

We saw other representations of the globe — terrestrial or celestial — at Pena Palace in Sintra.

This one at Jerónimos Monastery.

For sale at the Cod Museum, canned fish. At fancy prices.

For sale at a Portuguese grocery store, canned fish. At everyday prices.

In case you didn’t buy enough canned fish in the city, at the airport there’s a branch of Mundo Fantástico Da Sardinha Portuguesa, a sardine store on the Praça do Rossio.

For once, the Google Maps description is accurate: “Souvenir shop showcasing fancy tins of Portuguese sardines in a wacky, circuslike atmosphere.” You can even sit on a sardine throne.Mundo Fantástico Da Sardinha Portuguesa

The “Beer Museum” off Praça do Comércio seemed more like a restaurant and bar, but anyway you have to have a beer at a place like that, and I did. A Portuguese brew whose name I was too much on vacation to remember.Portuguese beer

I wasn’t awed by the beer, which was good enough, but I was awed by this display. That’s one artful wall of beer.Portuguese beer

We didn’t make it to the castle overlooking Lisbon (Castelo de São Jorge), so I can’t comment on the view from there. I will say that the roof of our hotel offered a pretty good one.Lisbon vista

Looking up at the city is another kind of vista. There’s a ferry port (and subway station) on the Tagus near Praça do Comércio. Step outside there, and some of the city is visible. The stone tower is part of Lisbon Cathedral.Lisbon vista

We emerged from the subway one morning and spotted this.

Monumento aos Mortos da Grande Guerra. I had to check, and found out that about 12,000 Portuguese soldiers died in WWI, including in France but also fighting the Germans in Africa. The memorial is on Av. Da Liberdade.

Europe, in my experience, is pretty good at putting together leafy boulevards.

That’s a tall order for a sandwich shop. We didn’t investigate the claim, either the number of steps, nor the state of mind.

At Basílica de Nossa Senhora dos Mártires, we encountered this fellow.

Rather Roman looking, and I mean the ancient Roman army, not “prays like a Roman with her eyes on fire.” At first I thought he might be Cornelius the Centurion, but the key clue is HODIE (“today”) written on the cross, meaning he’s Expeditus. I don’t ever remember seeing him depicted in a church. The patron of urgent causes, among other things.

We saw a flamenco show in Barcelona last year, but no fado in Lisbon. We did see a fado truck, however.FADO TRUCK, LISBON

We ate at the Time Out Market Lisboa twice.Time Out Lisboa Time Out Lisboa

There was a reason it was crowded. Everything was a little expensive, but really good. Such as this place, whose grub was like Shake Shack.Time Out Lisboa Time Out Lisboa

The last meal of the trip wasn’t at Time Out Lisboa, but a Vietnamese restaurant with room enough for about 20 people. It too was full.

Spotted at one of the subway stations we passed through more than once. Alice in Wonderland‘s fans are international in scope.Lisbon subway rabbit

On the whole, the Lisbon subways are efficient and inexpensive, and the lines go a lot of places. Even so, elevator maintenance did seem to be an issue. There were times when our tired feet would have appreciated an elevator, but no go.

Scenes from Parc Eduardo VII, which includes green space and gardens but also elegant buildings.Edward VII Park, Lisbon Edward VII Park, Lisbon Edward VII Park, Lisbon

There was an event there that day, at least according to those blue signs, that had something to do with the Portuguese Space Agency. I didn’t know there was such a thing. I’d have assumed Portugal would participate in the ESA, and leave it at that. But no, the Agência Espacial Portuguesa was founded in 2019, and is looking to create a space port in the Azores.

We didn’t investigate the event any further, but we did look at the tiles on the building. Nice.Edward VII Park, Lisbon Edward VII Park, Lisbon

Among the kings of Portugal, there was no Edward VII – only one Edward, who reigned from 1433 to 1438 – so when I saw it on the map, I figured it was for the British monarch of that regnal name. Yes, according to Wiki: “The park is named for King Edward VII of the United Kingdom, who visited Portugal in 1903 to strengthen relations between the two countries and reaffirm the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance.”

Lisbon manhole covers. Maybe not as artful as some of the other street details on Lisbon, but not bad.Lisbon manhole cover Lisbon manhole cover Lisbon manhole cover

I saw S.L.A.T. a fair amount. Later, I looked it up: Sinalização Luminosa Automática de Trânsito – Automatic Traffic Light Signaling.

Museu Calouste Gulbenkian

On the day after much climbing around the Sintra hills, that is, Friday, May 17, the idea of visiting the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum and the surrounding Calouste Gulbenkian Garden had a lot going for it. A reportedly great collection of art, for one thing, in a vivid green park. Just as important, it was walking distance from our hotel. A fairly short walking distance, with the interlude of a leisurely brunch on the way. Our last full day in Portugal was going to be leisurely.

The brunch. Mine anyway.Portuguese brunch

There are pancakes, as you might find in North America, but under the meat and eggs, a position that’s less common over here. Good pancakes too. Considering the cost of living in Portugal and the relatively strong dollar vs. the euro, we enjoyed high-quality breakfast food at IHOP prices.

Much has been written about the oilman Calouste Gulbenkian (d. 1955) elsewhere, for feats of industrialism and a colossal amount of philanthropy. Then there was the matter of collecting art, which he did with both hands.

Apparently he liked Lisbon a great deal, and who wouldn’t, especially after Paris got too hot in 1940. Much earlier, he and his family escaped Ottoman persecution, so while you can’t call such a wealthy fellow a refuge, he did feel the need to flee occasionally, along the way evolving into a shadowy British-Armenian billionaire with a massive art collection. These days, his artwork is in the museum named for him in Lisbon, developed by his posthumous foundation.Calouste Gulbenkian Museum

“When it comes to sheer diversity enhanced by the highest of standards, then the Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon is in a category of its own,” the NYT reported in 1984. “Its collections range from art of the ancient Greeks to the Impressionists, from Iznik faience to Jacob armchairs made for Marie Antoinette, with a goodly complement of carpets, coins, tapestries, ivories and illuminated manuscripts thrown in…

“Unlike most other museums (the Frick is a significant exception), the physical plant has been designed to fit the collection, rather than the other way around. There are vast halls for carpets, and small rooms for silver, vitrines designed so that objects can be seen from every side, and all in such a way that nothing ever looks crowded. The light, too, is unusually good.”

The description is still accurate. The variety doesn’t hit you until you’re past a half-dozen galleries, but then it hits all at once. The aesthetic appetite of this oilman emulator of Le goût Rothschild spanned centuries and continents, and he had the means to act on it.

Among other things, I spent quality time with his ancient coin collection. Gulbenkian had examples from all around the Greek world in the first few centuries after the invention of coinage in Lydia. He had some from Lydia itself; some of the first coins ever.

A good number of Near Eastern carpets were on display, some near the floor lying flat and lightly roped off. To my eye, flawless works. They gave me the opportunity to pass along the idea (to Ann) that certain carpet markers of yore, perhaps Persians, deliberately included a small imperfection in their work because only God is perfect. Something I heard years ago, I don’t know where, and I can’t vouch for its accuracy, caveats that I also passed along. I’m not the only one to wonder.

The Gulbenkian Foundation complex, including the museum, didn’t open until until more than a decade after his death, and pretty much screams 1969.Calouste Gulbenkian Museum

The garden, lush in an Iberian May, takes some of the edge off the brutalism.Gulbenkian Museum Gulbenkian Museum Gulbenkian Museum

We visited the museum first, then strolled the garden afterward.Gulbenkian Garden Gulbenkian Garden Gulbenkian Garden

The museum includes an indoor-outdoor cafe, where we stopped for pastries late in mid-afternoon, sitting outside.Gulbenkian Garden

Note the birds. They were not afraid of people.Gulbenkian Garden Gulbenkian Garden

Not at all.

Sintra: The Moorish Castle

Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle (Castelo dos Mouros) aren’t very far from each other up in hilly Sintra. So close you can walk the narrow road for a few minutes to get from one to the other. Even if it starts to rain on you. We visited in the drizzle after our tour of Pena Palace.

Both sites were inspired by Romanticism, they say. But different takes on the ideal.

Pena Palace: Fancy Colorful Halls, The Romanticism of Kings.

Moorish Castle: Stony Ruins on High Hills, the Romanticism of Abandonment.

Romanticism guided the 19th-century quasi-redevelopment of the Moorish Castle, a ruin from Islamic times, modified after the Reconquista, abandoned and decaying by the time King Fernando II took an interest in 1840.

From the Sistema de Informação para o Património Arquitetónico on the Moorish Castle, machine translated:

“Military, medieval and romantic architecture. Castle with an irregular plan located on high ground, formed by two belts of walls, with the interior reinforced by five towers and several cubes with a quadrangular and circular plan and vertical elevations. The list includes a Visigothic chapel, rebuilt in the Romanesque period…

“The Moorish Castle, due to its geographical situation and robustness, was considered, together with that of Santarém, one of the main points of the military structure of Belata – a Muslim province that more or less corresponds to Ribatejo and Estremadura. The property underwent extensive renovations over time, with the character of a romantic ruin predominating…”

The rain added to the Moorish Castle’s romantic appeal, both in the poetic sense, and the sense that stirs amorous couples. If there were any couples around, that is; there weren’t many, or anyone else. Off the beaten path in this case turned out to be stony and steep and wet. Even so, worth the effort.Moorish Castle Moorish Castle Moorish Castle

On the way up, we passed a mossy tomb.Moorish Castle Moorish Castle

Its sign said (in English, below the Portuguese): “The works promoted by King Ferdinand II damaged part of the Christian necropolis located around the church. A small tomb was thus built to lay the remains that been unearthed. The head stone bore the engraving of a crescent and a cross with the following epitaph: ‘What man has assembled only God can set apart,’ alluding to the fact that it was impossible to distinguish whether the human remains were Christian or Muslim.”

The climb continued. Where were those hiking poles when I needed them? At least one. Back in Illinois, that’s where. But we made it to one of the hilltops, with me trailing about five minutes behind.Moorish Castle Moorish Castle Moorish Castle

That flag was one of a number flying over the ruins, and I believe it was the 19th-century flag of the kingdom, possibly as a tribute to Ferdinand II. The flag over the highest peak — we didn’t make it all the way up there — seemed to be the first banner of the kingdom, associated with the first king of Portugal, Afonso Henriques, who also happened to take the castle from the Moors.Moorish Castle

We were tired on the return from the castle, but I have to say that even the stone path and the forest below had its romantic charms, even in the rain. King Fernando was on to something.Moorish Castle Moorish Castle

More of a light drizzle most of the time, except for the downpour waiting for the bus back out near the road. The various tuk-tuks and other for-rent vehicles that came by looking for business were tempting, but in the end the bus didn’t take that long. That was the only rain we had during our Portuguese days.