Well, that’s that then.  Another job, another school year completed.  Some tears – there were some from students and from me as well.  Some of those kids were genuinely lovely and it was a pleasure to teach them – and coach them of course.  Some of my best memories of my time in Lisbon involve football one way or another just as it did in Sri Lanka.

Amongst the more poignant goodbyes were with those that I have worked alongside this year.  It would be fair to say that I have enjoyed their company as a whole and on individual levels more than I have done so for a while.  For sure I have loved some of my colleagues at my other schools but this time it felt a bit more intense and the love a little wider.

Maybe it was the effect that Lisbon had on us.  Perhaps it was that we knew we would only be a group for a year since many of us are leaving.  Or, and this is my personal favourite theory, this was the year that we emerged from the covid lockdown to try to get back to some version of normality that we had so yearned for and we felt the need to really go for it.

Ever since Sonalee returned to Lisbon after a pretty shit time in Madrid the two of us have, even in our age of decrepitude, been putting our best party hats on and seeing what delights we could find in Lisbon and beyond. 

It has been fantastic.  We have had the best time living in a great part of a great city in a great country and have probably done more things in the past two months than we have the past two years.  And why not?  Lisbon in the summer comes alive with people determined to have a good time so why shouldn’t we join them?

Is Lisbon some kind of mecca for enjoyment?  Of course not.  It has its issues, many of them serious.  Many people are underpaid; many have rents that are astronomical; many have gig-economy jobs that offer no protection; many live in squalid or overcrowded conditions and many have second jobs just to make ends meet – even my inspirational colleague Kate has had to do this. 

And many rely on charities for the necessities of life.  We have witnessed, many times, bent-double men tucking into donated food on a bench within our part of the city.  We have passed men asleep under the roof of the disused railway station too often. 

What to do?  Well, often when coming across these situations, I have been with Luna.  Everybody loves Luna (Instagram account = Lunabiriani – she has 65 followers!) and so a quick stroke and loving of Luna seems to make people smile even for a brief moment in time. 

I know that sounds trite.  And it is.  What else I am I supposed to do?  I don’t understand the language, the cultural norms, the history, the social etiquettes of where we chose to live for a year.  I did the generic things that we all do when we live in forrin – give to charities that we think will make a difference and support them at school through the various scheme that they promote.  We have given money and given stuff through school.  I feel wretched just trying to justify it.  Using Luna to make people feel better.  Aiyeo. 

It is, however, not all smiles with Luna as Bindi and I can attest.  The last day of the year and we take Luna to a social gathering upon the request of those attending.  We get back somewhat ‘merry’.  Sonalee decides to smother our cat with love as he perches upon yet another neighbourhood car.  I take Luna down the stairs, into the flat and straight into a full-on scrap with Luna and Bindi.

Bindi likes to bully Luna mercilessly and this night Luna decided to snap back.  Viciously.  Bindi launched yet another barky tirade at Luna and the little one exploded in righteous anger.  It was utter chaos.  A whirlwind of teeth, tails, claws and lunges with two other dogs running around confused and barking their heads off.

Picture the scene.  I am trying desperately, using any available limb, to keep Luna and Bindi from ripping each other’s throat out.  There is blood and bile everywhere – I am actually slipping in pools of it.  Luna is going absolutely mental, determined to rip flesh – any flesh.  Bindi is realising that perhaps she really is in a proper fight.  Screams from me, “Babe!  Fucking Help!  £$%%$!  Ow!  Bloody Hell!  Babe!  &$%^£!  Argh!  Nooo!  Jesus Christ!  Babe!  Where the fu…?”

And all I can discern from outside is “Aww, you’re so handsome.  So cute!  Who is mummy’s cute boy?”

“Babe, FFS, get down here!  Noo!  Jesus!   Arrghh!  Dora, piss off!!   Babe I need he…”

“You’re so cute!  You’re mummy’s special boy!  Coo!  Who is so cute?  It’s you!  Mummy’s cute boy!”

“Nooo!  Babe!   Stop fuc…”

The end result is that Bindi has three nasty cuts on her butt.  The vet says they will heal slowly and she will not have to wear the cone of shame.  I have a variety of interesting cuts and bruises all over my arms and legs that are gradually improving.  There are still blood stains on the floor of the flat. 

Luna is completely unharmed and seems even more smug than normal.

Other highlights of this past month will have to include our attendance at Rock in Rio seeing UB40, Aha and Duran Duran with Mark and Shanthini. 

It was absolutely amazing.  One of the best experiences that Sonalee and I have had together.  I do not exaggerate. It was just incredible.  As stated before, perhaps that has a lot to do with us and thousands of others determined to enjoy watching three brilliant bands after so much crap in the last two years.  And, yes, I was moved to tears at times.   In my defence it was a culmination of emotions resulting from being told the previous weekend, literally at the last minute, that my flight home to pay my respects to my best mate’s old man had been cancelled, the return of Sonalee from Madrid, the ending of a school year and the exhaustion that accompanies it and the fulfilment of a dream to see the headliners that has lasted thirty years. 

One of the results of it all is that Sonalee now has the gig bug.  She now wants to see as many bands as possible in the shortest time possible.  To the point where Shanthini mentioned they were seeing The Beach Boys six days later and so Sonalee went and bought tickets straight away – they were really very good despite their age.  Madrid offers so many more opportunities for seeing even more bands and we are very excited about it.

For now, however, we are back home in Andalusia. 

Good god, it’s hot! 

It’s crazy hot!   This will take a week or so to get used to. 

And our house is so big!  We kind of forget how big it is sometimes.  From the outside it doesn’t look much but there seem to be so many rooms full of dust and dirt and stuff that needs sorting out.  I’m not going to even talk about the patio garden.  Good lord. 

The dogs are, naturally, very excited about being back home where the fields go on forever and the air is so clean and where the rabbits are plentiful.  The cat… well the cat is pissed off.  He is missing the four elderly women that feed him as he lounges around the street.  But he’s a cat, right?  He’ll find others to charm.  The little sod.

And we are back with our friends from our tiny village.  Two of them, Jane and Graham, have returned from Vietnam after two years looking happy to be back from a covid-affected experience.   They have some tales to tell.  Our roadie friend Ken has been working again after covid affected so many bands and has more tales to tell about his travels to various festivals in Europe.  And our friend Jan has managed to persuade our mayor that us foreigners might be key to her getting elected again so she has, for the first time ever, smiled at us in an effort to make us feel welcome. 

It is good to be back even for a few short weeks.  We have to return to Lisbon before we relocate once more because we have a flat there that we have had to rent till the end of August so we may as well use it.   And we have a chilli plant there as well as other furniture that we need to relocate.  And we have friends that are either staying there to continue their own adventures or are simply hanging around in a beautiful place before moving onto their new adventures. 

And during the next few weeks in Andalusia and a week in Madrid looking for a place to live next year we will be sharing our tales of just how bloody hot it is with several people that we have missed.  We cannot wait.  Yes, we’re lucky.  We know we are.  We wish we could see more of you whom we love.  What to do? 

Ayubowan,

Hasta Luego, inshallah,

Ciao

Paul

PS:  When he started to sing this I got goosebumps.   And this was a revelation.  This was just brilliant.