I wake up at 8:00, take some coffee, shower and dress for a day of hiking. Tiago has barely slept, looks terrible. He tells me he woke up to find a guy sleeping sprawled out on the couch stark-naked. I tell him I am off to Sintra, and he remarks I am an early riser. Well, only when on holiday. Those who know me well know that I can easily sleep all day long |
|
|
|
Guy joins me in the lobby bar, and shortly thereafter Paul and Mark come down from the room. We exchange stories from the recent Neil shows we’ve each seen. Guy presents me with his custom-made Rusties Guide to Lisbon, a very nice little souvenir, and a “Victory For The Heart” I am going to see Bob Dylan at the festival, but they want to relax and have some dinner, so I will join them later that night for drinks. I take the now familiar train ride from Cais do Sodré to the festival grounds, clear security, and take position on the left hand side of the stage in front of the speakers and the big screen. A group of people is sitting on the ground waiting for the show to start. When they stand, the guy in front of me has a huge dreadlock top-knot and it is obstructing my view. I move a little further in and to the right, and end up next to a few girls dancing. Always looking for a way to ingratiate myself, I share some weed with them and dance. One of the girls tries to hand me her beer to share, and I end up wearing half of it. Dylan opened with Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 and I feel validated for smuggling my little stash into Portugal, after all everybody must get stoned. Things Have Changed is a great song and I really get into it. Desolation Row is also superb. Other highlights include It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) and Ballad of a Thin Man – the encore is Like A Rolling Stone and I am well satisfied. It has been a couple of years since I have seen Bob, and this was a great show in my opinion.
After Bob, I head to the food area to sample some more pork sandwiches. I sit at a table with a young Portuguese lady (Teresa) and her mother, and discuss Bob’s concert. Like most people seeing Bob for the first time, she is disappointed. He didn’t give much to the audience she said, it felt like a rote performance. I think most folks just want him to sound like his records, which never happens. The songs are arranged differently, his intonation is different… I thought it was a fine performance myself, but I have different expectations. I catch a late train back to town, and find Guy and Paul (the Volume Drinkers) and Mark in the Bairro Alto. It consists of several narrow streets off the Rua da Atalaia, high on a hilltop, mostly decorated with graffiti and empty cups and bottles, and every other door is a small bar or nightclub. The streets are thronged with people, especially in front of the more popular spots. We hang out in a quiet bar, and try the Caipirinhas and Mojitos. We wander through these alleys, Paul photographing graffiti, until the scene winds down around 4:00AM. The guys take a taxi back to their hotel from the square of Luís de Camões and I walk the two blocks back to the Old Town Hostel. |
|