Last night I found myself in the café at the FNAC store at Norteshopping listening to a group of musicians who call themselves Oddawn provide live music for a showing of a film called Comboio de Sombras by director José Luis Guerín. It was a chance encounter, and the music was beautiful; I recorded a couple of audio snippets on my phone (hence the poor quality that does only vague justice to the music and the musicians).

Trying to figure out just exactly who Oddawn is, and where I can get some of their recorded music, has proved something of a challenge. The group is described here as follows:

Música é luz ou negra, é cor ou cinzento, é silêncio ou movimento, é rugosa, fria ou quente, ou, tão somente, puro sentimento. Oddawn pretende ser tudo isso, na fracção do tempo da sua existência.

This appears to translate to something like this (courtesy of Google Translate):

Music is light or black, it is color or cinereous, it is silence or movement, it is rugosa, cold or hot, or, so only, pure feeling. Oddawn intends to be everything this, in the portion of the time of its existence.

That doesn’t exactly clear things up. The members of the group, as of 2004, are listed as:

• Helena Guerreiro — voz
• Florbela António — acordeão e metalofone
• José Soares — guitarras
• Henrique Fernandes — contrabaixo
• Raúl Vieira da Silva — bateria
• Filipe Ferreira — guitarras e metalofone
• José Gabriel — sonoplastia

In other lives: vocalist Helena Guerreiro appears as part of group Trama in this recording of Caso Fora d’Horas / Sugar Cloud; accordion player Florbela António is part of the group Le Partisan (MP3s here); and standup bass player Henrique Fernandes is one of the Lost Gorbachevs. Everyone else appears to be, at least as far as the web is concerned, anonymous.

If you happen to know more, and can point to people or MP3s, please let me know. In the meantime, if you happen to be in Porto tomorrow, May 22nd, you can catch a repeat of the event at FNAC in the Gaiashopping mall at 17h.

Today was International Museum Day. I hope you knew that, because if you did you would have taken the day off and gone to the museum. And it would have been free, and you would have had a good time.

This morning Oliver and Catherine headed out early to the Museu da Quinta de Santiago, just 5 minutes from our house here in Leça da Palmeira. This being International Museum Day, the museum was unveiling its new audio guide, and Catherine and Oliver had the privilege of being the first users.

After lunch, we headed over the draw bridge to the Metro, and headed south to the Casa da Música station, located next to the Casa da Música, a building that deserves its own visit:

Once there we hopped on the 201 bus and headed towards the ocean, getting off about a mile later near the Fundação de Serralves, our destination.

Fundação de Serralves is a veritable museum-, art-, and park-lovers paradise: the sprawling verdant grounds house the Museu Serralves (a museum of contemporary art designed by Alvaro Siza — see my post about visiting the tea house he designed), Parque Serralves (home to a rose garden, scented garden, working farm and innumerable other delights), and Casa Serralves (an historic home, and extension of the museum).

Like the Casa de Chá Boa-Nova, Siza’s museum building feels like part of the landscape; this is not “big dick architecture,” but something rather more heartfelt and organic (although still monumental and awe-inspiring). In many ways Siza could be considered a sort of antithesis to Frank Gehry.

Having forgotten to eat lunch and thus being somewhat catatonic (see 2005), we began our visit with a trip to the fourth-floor cafeteria (although because of the nature of the building, the effect is more “second floor” than fourth) and had a tasty meal of pasta, sandwich and drinks.

Next we conducted a whirlwind tour of the contemporary art; nothing hit me over the head with a rake, but it was all interesting, and Oliver was especially impressed by a room full of paintings all of which incorporated the letter ‘T’ somehow.

After the museum, we headed down the entire length of the property towards what was promised as a “working farm.” In turn this took us past a rose garden, through a towering forest, past a tea house hidden in the woods, through a huge garden of scented plants and finally to an intriguing collection of stone farm buildings surrounded by an organic vegetable garden in full bloom. In one of the buildings we found some very, very long-horned cattle, some rabbits, a horse, some ducks, a turkey and a pheasant. It was all very bucolic. And thus a rather unusual part of a contemporary art museum.

The 7:00 p.m. closing time drawing nearer, we dashed up the spine of the park, through the rose garden, and made it to the front entrance just as things were winding down for the day.

We thought we would have plenty of time to spare, but as it turns out we’ll have to plan another visit to be able to see it all — we skipped half the grounds, and the entire Casa Serralves. I can’t think of a better way to have celebrated International Museum Day, though.

Catherine decided to take advantage of the early opening date for the Da Vinci Code movie here in Portugal (it opened here today, one day in advance of the U.S. and Canada), so she headed off to the multiplex at Norteshopping via bus and metro while Oliver and I hopped on the handy 502 bus that took us right back to the Mercado metro station, passing through the north end of Porto, by the ocean, and through Matosinhos on the way.

Oliver and I enjoyed a dinner of leftover pasta, codfish cakes and potatoes, read Pinocchio in Portuguese, and had some chocolate cake before dinner.

Who knows what we’ll do tomorrow.

As requested, here’s a photo of the Portuguese fruit that we can’t find an English name for:

Okay, here are two tasks for the smart ones in the readership to help me with.

First, I came across a well-designed OS X application that made manipulating Flickr photos and tags and descriptions much easier. It was heavy on the clean typography and was well-designed. Might have actually been a web app. Might have had a name like “Meebox” or something like that. Any ideas?

Second, we have purchased a type of fruit here in Portugal that is new to us. About the size of an apricot with an apple-like exterior and a consistency and taste somewhere between peach and pear. Two largish pits at the core. Orange or “ruddy” colour. Our local grocer can’t tell us what the name in English is.

Catherine takes photos too. Be prepared for many windows and doors and interesting buildings (as opposed to the “no dogs allowed” sign photos that you’ll see in my Flickr).

What’s the main problem with an invisible restaurant? It’s hard to find the door. Thus our problem finding our way into the Casa de Chá Boa-Nova — the Boa Nova Tea House, a restaurant of some reknown here in Leça da Palmeira designed in the mid-1960s by Portuguese architect Alvaro Siza. Siza’s design, it says here:

…is about ‘building the landscape’ of this marginal zone on the Atlantic — through a careful analysis of the weather and tides, existing plant life and rock formations, and the relationship to the avenue and city behind.

In other words, the place blends in in a deeply serious fashion. So we found ourselves coming around the back by mistake, and having to ramble over some serious boulders to get to the front door.

It was worth it. Catherine said it was like eating at Frank Lloyd Wright’s house — and it was:

As I’d managed to fumble my way through making a reservation over the phone, a table was waiting for us. But for a large German tour group spread out over half the restaurant, we almost had the place to ourselves.

Our head waiter was Balthazar — we know his name because Oliver asked him — and the service was a perfect in that “slightly officious but with knowing winks to let you know that everyone’s in on it” kind of way. I continue to be amazed at how taking Oliver to a chi chi place for dinner — in a way that we would never imagine doing at home — seems like second nature over here; he was well cared for.

We started with appetizers of seafood soup (me) and avocado and seafood (Catherine and Oliver). Main course was “sea perch” for Catherine (she said “like perch, but bigger”) and grilled hake for me, with Oliver sharing all ‘round. On the side was creamed spinach and boiled potatoes. Service was interesting: food was rolled to the side of the table on individual large platters and then served in two identical “settings,” each on a clean plate. It was very civilized and makes me think everyone should do it that way.

For dessert I had a chocolate mousse (I am a creature of habit) and Oliver and Catherine shared a banana split (when I say “shared” I mean “Catherine got one bite”). I finished off with a cup of strong black tea (it being casa de chá after all).

I can tell I’m getting euro-acclimated: the 1/2 bottle of wine for dinner is making me less loopy. At least I think it is.

After what ended up being an excellent dinner in a stunning sea-side location, we headed off on a brisk 30 minute walk home along the beach, which was a great way to end the night.

Every time I’ve set up my GSM mobile phone with a new SIM card (see What is a SIM card?) previously, it’s involved a somewhat complex process. For Croatia and France I ordered before traveling from Telestial and the complication was mostly in the time and expense (about $60 to get started each time). For the U.S. (T-Mobile) and Switzerland (United Mobile) I bought SIM cards once in-country, and there was, in both cases, lots of paperwork and showing of ID, and it took about 30 minutes. It took about the same amount of complication to get a Rogers SIM in Canada.

Last night I walked into the FNAC outlet at Norteshopping, picked up an Optimus SIM card package from the rack, paid 9,90 EUR at the checkout and walked out. It took about 2 minutes. This morning, Catherine walked up to the local post office and did something similar, for the same cost, and ended up with an UZO SIM card.

For both of us the process of getting our mobile phones working was: insert SIM card and turn on phone.

Both the Optimus and UZO packages had the phone number and PIN for the SIM card included in the pack. We didn’t have to dial up anyone to register or activate service; it just worked.

So we’re now both toting Internet-surfing, call-making mobile powerhouses (I’m carrying my Nokia N70 and Catherine’s got my old T610). Of course we’ll mostly just end up calling each other to see if we need anything from the bakery on our way home (although if you dial up Reinvented and “press 1 for Peter,” you’ll ring through automagically to Portugal too; I’m just waiting for my first telemarketing call).

What with all the vigorous museum going the day before, yesterday we took things slowly. That Oliver woke up at 6:00 a.m. forced Catherine and I into an extended bout of tag-team sleeping and child-rearing that let us both emerge, by noon, with our wits somewhat about us. We took the afternoon “off” and rambled about the house, had a tasty lunch of cheese sandwiches, and by 5:00 p.m. we were ready to climb back onto the horse of adventure.

While we like the museums and ye olde architecture and the old world ambience as much as the next couple, Catherine and I have a secret love of overseas retail as well; Europe might not have invented the shopping mall (well, I think they actually did, back in the middle ages) they’ve certainly refined it to high art. And we’re suckers for that. So Monday became “a day at the mall.”

Although I’m becoming better at figuring out how Portuguese works, I still found it somewhat difficult to figure out how to actually get to the mall by public transit. Either nobody every goes there that way (malls are, after all, a car-centric invention), or the directions were hidden away in Google behind a keyword I could never find, but when we headed out to the Metro, I was only about 25% confident that we weren’t going to have to jump across several freeways to get there.

As it turns out, it’s really, really easy to get to Norteshopping (“the mall”) by Metro: you just get off at the Sete Bicas station (only 15 minutes from Mercado near our house), and walk one block left out of the station and one block left from there; the mall is on your right (I had help from a policeman along the way, but it’s really very obvious).

Norteshopping didn’t disappoint. Here are some of the highlights:

• A food court to end all food courts; I had a bowl of hearty soup, a salad of green beans, lettuce and mushrooms, a fresh roll, and a glass of fresh-squeezed juice all for 5 EUR; Catherine and Oliver had what she called “the best Chinese food I’ve had since I was in Vancouver last year.”
• A “check in your children” centre: parents can enjoy the delights of the mall while their children are, for 2,50 EUR/hour, cared for by trained (English-speaking) staff in a centre that includes 10 “theme areas” running the gamut from “dance and movement” to “new technology.” Think “the IKEA ball room, but with intention.”

• Stores the likes of which you’ve never seen; for example: at least a dozen stores devoted entirely to children and mothers: maternity wear, strollers, car seats, furniture, shoes, toys.
• A giant working steam engine. For no seeming purpose whatsoever other than to illustrate the principles of steam engines. Oh, and the steam feeds an espresso bar.
• An art gallery. In the middle of the parking garage. You have to see it to believe it.

• A multi-plex with shows that run to 3:00 a.m. every day (!)

The whole mall itself is open until midnight every night. We came close to just moving in.

But 9:30 p.m., after experiencing all of the above and doing our grocery shopping to boot, we headed back home. Twenty minutes later we were ensconced in our little stone house back in the last century.