Our final day in Lisbon. Yes, it is sunny again.

Yesterday we went to the charming towns of Estoril and Cascais on the Lisbon Riviera. We walked along the promenade and found a sea pool, not exactly like in Sydney, but in the same ilk. We walked past the marina and found a ramshackle restaurant perched above an emerald green inlet, facing a decaying mansion. Geoff ate grilled sardines. The old town in Lisbon is full of grand things decaying. And graffiti everywhere. However, in Cascais we located some mansions in pristine condition. And had a glimpse of what Lisbon would have been like in its heyday.

Wherever you go in the world, you find music, which like love, is part of the universal language. In Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night”, Orsino proclaims, “If music be the food of love, play on…” As we wandered around Lisbon, we were greeted by the sound of music on the street and from darkened restaurants.

One of the things that Geoff loved to do in the early days of our courtship and marriage was to serenade me. I found it intensely embarrassing. He would strum away and sing songs like “Lady in Red”, by Chris de Burgh and “Stuck on You”, by Lionel Ritchie. As Tony and Eve had so many children, they had double unisex loo cubicles (toilets) installed downstairs, so no one was caught out on the hop. To make me laugh, Geoff would come in and strum and sing whilst I was on the loo.  Whilst I found the whole Elvis-like renditions excruciating, his friends were, without exception, enthralled by his musical talents.

It’s the strummer

One outlet for Geoff’s musical prowess was Guy Fawkes Night or Bonfire Night, which is celebrated by the Brits on 5th November. It is the anniversary of foiling a Catholic conspiracy in 1605 to blow up the Houses of Parliament. A stuffed dummy of Guy Fawkes, who was caught with the explosives under the Houses, is placed on a bonfire and incinerated. Fireworks are part of the festivities. It was a male Wilmot tradition to build a humungous bonfire in the orchard at Stone House and have a big party. People would bring fireworks and wine.

I attended one of these bonfires shortly before our engagement. After the bonfire burnt down to glowing embers, Geoff, to my horror, brought out his guitar. There he was in his element, surrounded by a crowd, swaying away to his dulcet tones, sipping mulled wine. No one found it cheesy, except me. No doubt a cultural difference, I have yet to get to the bottom of.

I am sad to say that he played less and less as our marriage progressed. My apologies, Geoff, for smothering your talent!

Today we are going on a tram trip and to Belem to the monastery. Our last day before heading home.