One of the pleasures of watching Alexander Payne's The Descendants is seeing Hawaii, which is rarely depicted in contemporary movies. And the state is more than the setting, it is almost a character, permeating the film in everything from the clothing to the music to the social interactions.
The film is also admirable because it disavows its audience, in the first few minutes, of the notion of paradise. It should be required viewing for editors of travel magazines.
After I left ZAZOU I headed to the cathedral and, looking up, saw a rainbow. It was so unexpected, and well-defined, that I pointed it out to the young woman coming toward me on the sidewalk.
"Sem," she said, then added a string of incomprehensible words which ended, this being gracious Portugal, with "obrigada."
Saturday I was killing time in Alfama, the ancient neighborhood of Lisbon. I had my story, and there was nothing now I needed to do. So I followed the trail of tourists, enjoying the warm sun in the cobblestone parks overlooking the orange roof tiles, the white houses, the silvery river.
There were a number of restaurants taking advantage of the location, most with menus in a variety of languages. Their outside tables buzzed with even more tongues. They were very tempting, but I kept walking.
Most of the people still on foot headed up to see the castle; my instincts sent me downhill. A small group of people stood outside a church. Walking inside, I found myself at an Orthodox wedding. "Georgian" one white-haired woman whispered to me.
At the next intersection, I spotted a shingle that read ZAZOU. Coming closer, I read "bazar & cafe" and stepped inside.
"Everything here is from Portugal," the owner told me, adding that the store had been open only a few months.
Her name was Monica, as was that of her assistant, who asked if I'd like to try some of the products. I took a seat at a long table in the side room and was served a plate of cheeses that included one with garlic, one with apples and cinnamon, and one - picante - that you could smell coming. A combination of goat's milk and sheep's milk, it was delicious. Accompanying them were slices from a rustic loaf of bread from Alentejo.
Over by the counter, a plate of chorizo suddenly erupted in flames. After a few minutes, when the fire had been extinguished, Monica cut the sausage into small pieces and delivered them to me, saying "The best chorizo in Portugal." She then poured me a glass of red wine.
As I ate, I learned about the store. It was a new concept in Lisbon, combining a shop with a place to sit and eat its products. I mentioned that it was not the most propitious time to start a new business, and Monica said that the economic crisis had in fact inspired her. "We are trying to bring back traditional, rural things the way they used to be," she said, adding that a way to beat the crisis was to consume Portuguese products.
I finished with a glass of young rose ("vinho verde rose" Monica said with a smile) and an espresso. Then I paid, wished the Monicas well, and headed out to rejoin the tourists.
Reading Ken Auletta's profile of Jill Abramson in the Oct. 24 New Yorker, I came across this line: "The two sisters have the same cackle of a laugh, and every year they go off alone on adventurous trips - to China, Morocco, Budapest."
I'm going to e-mail this to my Hungarian friends. And I will read it to my travel writing students, who have already been read the list of words - magical, exotic, adventurous - that have become cliches through overuse. Though using the last to describe a visit to a major European capital is something new.
That will be all for this week, as I'm flying to Portugal tonight. TAP recently started direct flights from Miami to Lisbon, so I get to fly from the edge of one continent to the edge of another. A pleasing prospect.
I got an e-mail this morning from Air Astana with the subject line: "Nobody knows the skies of Kazakhstan like us."
The Travel Channel pretty much lost me when it debuted "Man vs. Food." Man vs. Food? What about Man vs. Immigration Officer? Man vs. Rental Car Company?
Flipping to the Travel Channel last night I saw a new show (new to me at least) titled "Jaw-Dropping Rentals." It was about million dollar houses. The shots were mostly of interiors - infinity bathtubs, trophy kitchens - with some views outside of the pool and gardens. I checked to see if I had landed on HGTV by mistake. (Just as I used to think I was watching the Food Channel.)
The Travel Channel seems interested in everything except travel. Yes, these were homes to rent, presumably while traveling, provided you had the necessary six-figure income. But they had nothing of local flavor about them; they were all about luxury, living the good life in your own little world. Which is the opposite of experiencing the world, i.e. travel.