So, here I am, in Portugal, in a cybercafe in the neighborhood of Chiado. I like Chiado: it�s probably my favorite area of downtown Lisbon. It�s kind of funky, and the traditional hangout of a great many literary figures. What I am not liking is this keyboard, which is portuguese and has way too many characters which I won�t be using much, seeing as how I don�t even speak portuguese, much less write in it. I doubt half of them would show up anyway, without the ascii codes. Plus, some things, notably the caps key and the apostrophe, are in the wrong place, which really screws things up if you are used to touch-typing.

The fab woman who runs this place, however, assures me that next time I can bring a diskette and upload my diary entry from the word processor like I usually do. She is probably also convinced that I am a prize idiot, as she�s already had to show me how to bring up the at-key and switch between windows. Yes, of course they don�t have Netscape. Still, it�s better than nothing, as the hotel charges astronomical fees for phone usage.

Actually, the hotel charges astronomical prices for everything. How does 5 bucks for the equivalent of half a can of coke from the minibar grab you? Or 27.50 for a single glass of champagne? The phone is 45 cents a unit, and I am genuinely afraid to find out just what a unit is. In Germany, it was 32 seconds or something ridiculous like that, but I�m sure this place can do much better than that.

That said, it�s a nice hotel indeed. Five stars and all that jazz, with a fine view of the Parque right down to the Tagus, provided there is not too much pollution. And they�ve gone out of their way to make me feel at home.

That�s right, the place is under constuction! The drills and hammering go on from 8 in the morning, clear through to 7 at night, which explains why I haven�t been too eager to stick around and write on my notebook or anything else, for that matter. And, as a final welcoming touch, if you turn on the hot water tap in the bathroom, it emits a high-pitched whine and a trickle of water before ceasing to function all together. The solution to that one is to turn the damn thing on full blast, causing it to make an ear-splitting screech and splatter water all over your crotch.

Yes! Plumbing problems!

It�s almost as if I�d never left, aside from the fact that it�s definitely not Milan out there.

So, basically, I�ve spent my days wandering around, avoiding the hotel, feeling homesick.

I�ll get over it though, especially once we�ve found an apartment. Elvis is supposed to go out to the main office today to do some negotiating over our budget, which isn�t too bad except for the way it�s allocated.

I haven�t been writing, though I have been making notes and have plenty to say. However, I�ve got some mail to do and a lot of catching up to get on with, and I�m just about reaching the end of my tolerance for this keyboard.

Plus, and I swear I am not making this up, somebody has started running a jackhammer next door. Seems that I am cursed by the Gods of Mechanical Things.

Thank you all for your kind guestbook entries and emails! I�ve missed you, and I�m really happy I�ve found internet acess that will let me smoke and drink and generally enjoy myself. I�ll be back soon, hopefully tomorrow, diskette in tow.

Hey, it might even be better written!