Where I have been, what I ate, and the small
things worth remembering. These are working notes rather than a
polished guide — written on trains, in cafes, and once or
twice on the back of a ferry ticket.
March 2024 · Lisbon, Portugal
Arrival in Lisbon
The plane came in low over a city the colour of weak tea,
and I understood at once why everyone tells you to look out of
the window. Tiles on every wall, laundry on every line, and a
river wide enough to make you feel very small and quite
pleased about it.
I walked uphill until I found a square with no name on the
map, ordered a coffee I did not know how to pronounce, and sat
until the light turned gold. That, more or less, is how I would
like to spend every first afternoon.
March 2024 · The Douro Valley
The Long Way to Porto
The slow train follows the river for three hours, and the
river does all the showing off. Terraced hills, red roofs, and
the occasional heron standing in the shallows like it is
waiting for a portrait.
Buy a ticket for the right-hand side of the carriage. Bring
something to write with. You will use it.
Travel is the art of being pleasantly lost for long enough
to notice where you actually are.
April 2024 · Kyoto, Japan
Kyoto in the Rain
It rained for four days and it was the best four days of
the trip. The gardens are built for it. Moss turns almost
luminous, stone lanterns darken to ink, and the crowds thin
out to the people who came for the same reason you did.
My advice: leave the umbrella at the guesthouse and take
the narrow lanes instead. You will get wet. You will not
mind.
Notes, no date
On Packing Light
- Lay everything out. Now put half of it back.
- One good jumper beats three average ones.
- A notebook weighs nothing and remembers everything.