WHINGE NOT, ER...
About six years ago, it was pointed out in a very polite kind way that I did a bit too much whinging.
whinge
wɪn(d)ʒ/Submit
BRITISHinformal
verb
gerund or present participle: whinging
complain persistently and in a peevish or irritating way.
"stop whingeing and get on with it!"
synonyms: complain, grouse, grouch, grumble, whine, moan, carp...
Although not always successful, I have been doing my best to tamp that shit down. It is poison for ones self and not a joy ride for those around.
Exception: After I have been pick pocketed, burgled or nearly die, I feel I can get away with some.
So I'm in a grocery store that has two lanes out of six or eight open. Long lines.
British couple behind me. They acted as though they both had life counters on and were literally watching the moments of their remaining life tick away.
They were buying two small loaves of bread. I did not say anything - especially not "Well, you must really want that bread" or "Your time seems less valuable than that 1 euro of bread you are buying." It would serve no purpose. Instead I observed the activity in the store. Tried to be more like Peter who just seems to take in everything at a glance. (Note - he either has the same kind of mind as Sherlock Holmes hence the nickname - or some Borg like readout. I'm not sure which.) After about 20-30 minutes of waiting, I checked out.
When the lady doing the checkout spoke to me in English and I responded in English you should have seen the faces of the old British couple.
Morals of the story:
Complaining serves no purpose. Put the bread back and go to a different store if you are truly in a hurry. Or go without bread.
People may be talking in Portuguese but they are listening in English. I'm not sure why this never sinks in with so many tourists. Even when I don't think the person can understand me, I speak as though they can - or someone nearby might. "I'm sorry I'm no where near clever enough to have learned Portuguese but I want FOOD." (Make eating signs. Not cannibal signs.) It's amazing how often someone who speaks even a little English will jump in to help. If you're being snarky to the person who doesn't happen to speak your language, only bad things can come of it.
LOGAN AND THE DENTISTS OF DOOM (Faro, Portugal)
My gums still hurting a bit so I decided to go see what the dentist says. At 10 euros, who wouldn't?
Nobody wouldn't.
After some negotiation with the young lady at the receptionist and reassuring her that my appointment would literally take two minutes or less (possibly much less) she managed to squeeze me in after a couple hour wait.
Pretty cool - I've waited longer in USA dental and doctor stuff when I had an appointment set up well ahead.
After the mandatory prod the dentist told me my bizarre news.
(I get a fair bit of weird news.)
"You're brushing too hard."
Wow. Really?
After some questioning, he also added "And you're changing your toothbrush too often."
That is the first time I've ever been told that. He assured me that four a year was plenty. I sometimes go through six or eight a year for various reasons (country change, dropped it in something icky,etc).
I thanked him, paid my ten euros and left.
Quick and painless.
FOOD
So what's Portuguese food like Logan?
Fucking bland.
Which is interesting and I think I know why.
Back in the old (very old) days, the Portuguese (insert old time racial slur here, I don't know any - sorry) traders use to get spices from places abroad (like India) and resell them to other places (Vietnam, Thailand, etc). But they don't like them in their own cooking.
I'd read somewhere the a lot of countries like bland food because spices weren't originally (when they first got them) used to perk up the food - they were used to extend it. Meat taste a bit rotten? Stick some of this spice stuff on it! That sort of thing.
As a result, bland meant 'more fresh' in the world without refrigerators. Remember, we're talking a long time ago - even before selfies. Like 15th, 16th century.
As a result, Portuguese food is very bland. But fresh.
Sadly, I can't ask people about this as (like people in the USA) few of them know the little interesting details (or perhaps major facts - again like the USA) of their history.
So I get to speculate until my time machine arrives.
THE BONE CHAPEL
Went to the one in Faro. Cost to get in, 2 euros. Note to tourists - it closes at 1PM. Just after the train drops you off.
My plan worked out well last night - downed most of a bottle of whiskey to get to sleep earlier. Woke up early and went to see it before it closed.
The church was fairly impressive. A tourist tried to tell me it was all gold but it felt like wood. Made to look like gold. Not that churches don't have tons of money but they like it to be out growing in investments.
The bone part - not that cool.
Those are some of the better pics I was able to get. The piece of crap $50 (not spending more due to wildly expert Moroccan pickpockets) phone I bought in Morocco just not doing the job.
What's funny is that this place freaks out some of the locals. I told them about Sedlec Ossuary in the Czech Republic. That is interesting. This place, meh. [Edit thanks to Pete for previous link.]
About six years ago, it was pointed out in a very polite kind way that I did a bit too much whinging.
whinge
wɪn(d)ʒ/Submit
BRITISHinformal
verb
gerund or present participle: whinging
complain persistently and in a peevish or irritating way.
"stop whingeing and get on with it!"
synonyms: complain, grouse, grouch, grumble, whine, moan, carp...
Although not always successful, I have been doing my best to tamp that shit down. It is poison for ones self and not a joy ride for those around.
Exception: After I have been pick pocketed, burgled or nearly die, I feel I can get away with some.
So I'm in a grocery store that has two lanes out of six or eight open. Long lines.
British couple behind me. They acted as though they both had life counters on and were literally watching the moments of their remaining life tick away.
They were buying two small loaves of bread. I did not say anything - especially not "Well, you must really want that bread" or "Your time seems less valuable than that 1 euro of bread you are buying." It would serve no purpose. Instead I observed the activity in the store. Tried to be more like Peter who just seems to take in everything at a glance. (Note - he either has the same kind of mind as Sherlock Holmes hence the nickname - or some Borg like readout. I'm not sure which.) After about 20-30 minutes of waiting, I checked out.
When the lady doing the checkout spoke to me in English and I responded in English you should have seen the faces of the old British couple.
Morals of the story:
Complaining serves no purpose. Put the bread back and go to a different store if you are truly in a hurry. Or go without bread.
People may be talking in Portuguese but they are listening in English. I'm not sure why this never sinks in with so many tourists. Even when I don't think the person can understand me, I speak as though they can - or someone nearby might. "I'm sorry I'm no where near clever enough to have learned Portuguese but I want FOOD." (Make eating signs. Not cannibal signs.) It's amazing how often someone who speaks even a little English will jump in to help. If you're being snarky to the person who doesn't happen to speak your language, only bad things can come of it.
LOGAN AND THE DENTISTS OF DOOM (Faro, Portugal)
My gums still hurting a bit so I decided to go see what the dentist says. At 10 euros, who wouldn't?
Nobody wouldn't.
After some negotiation with the young lady at the receptionist and reassuring her that my appointment would literally take two minutes or less (possibly much less) she managed to squeeze me in after a couple hour wait.
Pretty cool - I've waited longer in USA dental and doctor stuff when I had an appointment set up well ahead.
After the mandatory prod the dentist told me my bizarre news.
(I get a fair bit of weird news.)
"You're brushing too hard."
Wow. Really?
After some questioning, he also added "And you're changing your toothbrush too often."
That is the first time I've ever been told that. He assured me that four a year was plenty. I sometimes go through six or eight a year for various reasons (country change, dropped it in something icky,etc).
I thanked him, paid my ten euros and left.
Quick and painless.
FOOD
So what's Portuguese food like Logan?
Fucking bland.
Which is interesting and I think I know why.
Back in the old (very old) days, the Portuguese (insert old time racial slur here, I don't know any - sorry) traders use to get spices from places abroad (like India) and resell them to other places (Vietnam, Thailand, etc). But they don't like them in their own cooking.
I'd read somewhere the a lot of countries like bland food because spices weren't originally (when they first got them) used to perk up the food - they were used to extend it. Meat taste a bit rotten? Stick some of this spice stuff on it! That sort of thing.
As a result, bland meant 'more fresh' in the world without refrigerators. Remember, we're talking a long time ago - even before selfies. Like 15th, 16th century.
As a result, Portuguese food is very bland. But fresh.
Sadly, I can't ask people about this as (like people in the USA) few of them know the little interesting details (or perhaps major facts - again like the USA) of their history.
So I get to speculate until my time machine arrives.
THE BONE CHAPEL
Went to the one in Faro. Cost to get in, 2 euros. Note to tourists - it closes at 1PM. Just after the train drops you off.
My plan worked out well last night - downed most of a bottle of whiskey to get to sleep earlier. Woke up early and went to see it before it closed.
The church was fairly impressive. A tourist tried to tell me it was all gold but it felt like wood. Made to look like gold. Not that churches don't have tons of money but they like it to be out growing in investments.
The bone part - not that cool.
Those are some of the better pics I was able to get. The piece of crap $50 (not spending more due to wildly expert Moroccan pickpockets) phone I bought in Morocco just not doing the job.
What's funny is that this place freaks out some of the locals. I told them about Sedlec Ossuary in the Czech Republic. That is interesting. This place, meh. [Edit thanks to Pete for previous link.]
