tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50008921933440535812024-03-13T23:17:56.150-07:00Bits and PiecesI write about my life, my views and opinions. If in the process I make you smile, all the betterJoe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.comBlogger358125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-15530755745911138832023-09-15T03:48:00.002-07:002023-09-15T03:48:44.855-07:00Prodigal Returns<p>I'm back!</p><p>It's been over three years since my last post - and a hell of a lot has happened since!</p><p>I finished my BA degree, released an album titled "Back To Back" (available on Spotify, Apple music etc.) left Brexit Britain and moved back to Portugal with my partner-in-crime, Miss P. </p><p>A move during the worst pandemic since 1918. With travel restrictions imposed and national lockdowns.</p><p>To say it's been challenging is an understatement. </p><p>It has been a Double Annus Horriblis. </p><p>In some ways. But not all.</p><p>Releasing an album and moving back home to Portugal has been tiring, wonderful and most of all, totally worth it.</p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-16474311800856133762018-06-09T04:18:00.002-07:002018-06-09T04:18:31.776-07:00Never Too Late To Learn New Tricks<br />
I'm half way through completing a degree in Music Production and am absolutely loving every minute.<br />
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One more year and I will be a fully fledged Producer, doing what I love doing most and I can't wait.<br />
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Being at the academy learning from past legends of the music industry has been enlightening to say the least and befriending hundreds of student performers/producers/engineers/musicians will ensure I stay connected to these lovely people for future projects.<br />
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I have also started up a new venture to promote my music and can cheerfully inform you that <a href="http://www.peartreemusic.co.uk/">Peartree Music</a> is now up an running.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><i>The wonderful logo is courtesy of my nearest and dearest, Patrycia Pereira</i></span><br />
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Just in case anyone is perplexed by my arboreal choice of a company name, pear tree is simply the english translation of my surname and has absolutely nothing to do with the fact I live by Kew Gardens :)<br />
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I have been busy over the last few months with study, work, travel and setting up my home studio (see below). <br />
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It's all taking shape and composing/recording new music has become a pleasure and much easier with the right tools at hand.<br />
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I also managed to get married in that time.<br />
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from this...<br />
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...to this.<br />
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What a difference three years can make! </div>
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I am presently waiting anxiously for our honeymoon trip. Photos of all the interesting places we visit will follow in due course.</div>
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-22815791439842029022017-08-23T11:31:00.000-07:002017-08-23T11:31:21.786-07:00From Lisbon to Brasília 2017<div>
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13 June 2017</div>
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We arrived back in Lisbon after a two-hour flight from Lyon, tired and looking forward to a rest. There were huge delays at Lyon airport with long queues at passport control. We were told some kind of security operation was taking place but in my opinion the airport is way too small to handle demand, considering Lyon is France's third biggest city. </div>
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Lisbon was gloriously warm and cheerful, basking in the hot summer sun. And to add to the delight of being back, it was cherry season! Street vendors could be seen all around town selling the luscious fruit.<br />
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Cherries are grown all over the country and demand is high, both as an excellent fruit and as the main ingredient for the famous cherry liquor 'Ginja'.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisbon - East View</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisbon - West/Central view</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First stroll down to Praça Do Comercio for a look at the mighty river Tejo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1- Rua Augusta ends at the arch 2- Miss P and her fave snack <br />
3- A view of the Mercado Da Ribeira market.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scrumptious Portuguese Cherry</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The monument at Marques De Pombal depicting scenes of the great earthquake and tsunami <br />
of 1755, which destroyed half of Lisbon and killed tens of thousands of people</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No comment required - a typical Lisbon sky</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside Mercado Da Ribeira</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The north bank of the river Tejo, in the Parque Das Naçoes area</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parque das Naçoes is the modern part of East Lisbon, by the Vasco Da Gama bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vasco Da Gama bridge in the background</td></tr>
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On 19th June Miss P returned to Brasilia to spend time with her family and I to London for the self-same reason. Two weeks later I joined her.<br />
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3rd July, Brasilia<br />
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This is my third visit to Brasilia in two years and although I am getting used to it's concrete and modern people-unfriendly layout, it's still a visit of necessity rather than pleasure. It's safe to say Brasilia will never be on the regular tourist itinerary. It's not the kind of place to take strolls in the warm evenings and in some parts, not even in daytime. Public transport is scarce and only for those who have no other choice. Those who can afford drive everywhere and park in secure areas. Although the city has a much lower crime rate than most others in this vast nation, it's still not the place to drop your guard and be complacent. The shopping malls are always busy, indicating a population with little else to do but shop. A city built from scratch in the late 50s to become the country's capital, Brasilia is strictly for government purposes only. I will report in full on a future post dedicated solely to Brazil.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Paranoa - view from the Bierfass Restaurant - Pontão. <br />
My favourite part of town</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Mormai Surf Bar - Pontão. Another bar we frequently visit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For a good night's entertainment I suggest the Emporio Santo Antonio. This huge <br />
bar/restaurant has a permanent stage for the nightly live bands</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="598" id="id_ee38_1c58_e390_6ace" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZExVRWJxMLGr2-CQCLsdX7pWcKZ_D6osfN66WQ1eZv0_JquZn6YmUZn3DN9xtKrJt5oBblhBoc4yrZ3ICq5VRSPrjVB0n1vTsv-Ndlh4kUZaMLnIMrOhizWkcNZbsTtetnf6Swmfd53wL/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat trip on the lake with Miss P's mum and nieces</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="480" id="id_8f60_735b_6181_1a06" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7rsVhr6vOSeUrQTwMToqfTXb-UmbC9_CYb0RIBIvYiKSR5lhyphenhyphenR8vFgRiQ_WT9q7R6bv1iywCNSqnUy7zwfWq9-8kHINH9yJxV5vdgvDs22Q52WUhpXq3_sR7ZPJikQdt1QpkZ80iBg8y/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had our engagement celebration dinner at Restaurante Dom Francisco, Asa Sul...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="414" id="id_c310_e53_9170_6bce" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQODgUDKSXpe7bubyMAcVcpG_XNzl1vHMtVXAVTfnC5V0jVsaCvSsBzheuTdQFNVdmhB3-QTnCPXkXKmnayG9WzMDVpRyyxjt8fBfz5MHK_ZwwVIA_GDBWjf9JJZXE04cni8lcYWC536f/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and flew south next day to Porto Alegre. From there we had a <br />
further two hour bus trip to the pretty alpine town of Gramado.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gramado is a beautiful, clean, affluent, European-like town and rather chilly! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breathtaking natural beauty<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Steam Train on a tourist route linking three small towns<br />
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As I prepare to return to London, a few days ahead of Miss P, I know I'll take with me fond memories of a Brazil I didn't know existed, high up on the mountais of Rio Grande Do Sul.<br />
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If Miss P and I ever need to spend multiple weeks in Brazil again, we know exactly where to stay. Especially so if around Christmas time.<br />
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Ciao for now<br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-15898948997746255882017-08-21T14:52:00.001-07:002017-08-21T14:52:29.635-07:00More Summer Travels 2017 - France <div>
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7 June 2017<br />
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Our stay in Madeira came to an end as we boarded a morning connection flight to Lisbon and onward to Lyon. It was our first opportunity to visit the Bourgogne (Burgundy) area of east-central France, where Miss P did her Master's Degree and had her first experience of living in Europe. We had also bought tickets to see Coldplay live the following day at the Olympique Lyonnaise Stadium.<br />
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Lyon is a charming town whose city centre is on a strip of land between two major rivers; the Rhone and the Saone. The photo below shows the River Rhone in the foreground, while the Saone is further back and only the rows of trees on its banks can be seen above the buildings.<br />
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As is typical of most French towns, Lyon is immaculately tidy and orderly, its streets and boulevards made centuries ago with pedestrians in mind. It is a people-friendly town. Cafés and restaurants spill onto the pavements, the outdoor tables the first to be taken by the people-watching French. I was looking forward to getting stuck into the wine and fine cuisine associated with this area of France. To top it all the weather was a fabulous 26 degrees.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyon </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="480" id="id_f171_bc66_fa39_78c8" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSrcugSEt3g1kP__R2riGxftPCTZCmF8CTSH_NiFxwuGN1c3NJbYanIC9wrh3o33M3UwPCnfN0M0Lx3guXU2m3WezcO9kDkXulgxgzZi5UN8MeOSXdyMtcwe1kY_qoxl0peGg6C9i8sTR/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first meal in Lyon did not disappoint. The lamb was superb <br />and the wine..well...it took more than one bottle, just to be sure!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palais de Justice</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyon town centre</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new side of Lyon where the River Saone ends by joyning the mightier Rhone</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="480" id="id_68e5_ce93_1fe9_b9c4" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUgxYHfKCx6zdjYBfq_8tqk1dTduOc7gDM9oRbORjpi2HwaAQa7t2HLOrycTp1VUY8PuHuqhw50IJUnkWScUHhiEEE9Q-U4dZkv1os9wQE3-sgRzEp477TYaV1hv1XrNzK5pvH2xBk6Ag/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coldplay were on top form and not at all sombre,as they are often accused of being.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="480" id="id_560_407d_7866_812d" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEIBK1IlqBRuJIf8hvJdj-8PLOohDviIoX4fXZrsaH-dUobcWoAUGSzePQ8Ajw3aisRv0gV1pKIKZ_dge2-93JlbGwILvBgmhH317bBsNfurDtyxPDI2QJL4dfK57v6KUV-x7UiZO-QKBJ/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> The town of Chalon Sur Saone. The river was teeming with fish swimming around the lilies.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...for lunch</td></tr>
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On June 10th we left Lyon just after breakfast and drove eastwards towards Dijon for a three night stay. On the way we stopped at Chalon Sur Saone, a small river-side market town, for a well deserved lunch and...refreshments. After a hearty meal we strolled to the town centre where we found some youngsters playing guitars and singing in an esplanade. I joined them, made new friends and went on to have a great session of music, broken English and beer. Nothing breaks the ice better than a singsong, wherever you may be!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new music pals</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dijon, the home of mustard and Burgundy wines</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dijon Old Town full of pretty patterns<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This town is both old and modern. Just like me!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the 14th century, the Dukes of different European kingdoms would meet <br />in this square to iron out their differences and avoid inter-familial wars. It is the <br />Palais Des Ducs Et Des Etats De Bourgogne</td></tr>
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After an enjoyable and satisfying 12 days in France we returned to Lisbon to rest and spend another week in the familiar surroundings. <br />
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Ciao for now<br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-33957591053179249682017-08-20T21:22:00.000-07:002018-06-14T23:53:53.471-07:00Old Country, New Beginning - Part 3<br />
16 May 2017<br />
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We arrived in Madeira around lunchtime. After checking into our hotel we decided to explore the beautiful city of Funchal on foot. I will never tire of admiring this small piece of paradise.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bathed in sunshine all year...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFwFZI_GxZUDnl082W_hXFXlOnmoIitGJHhDfcq_VV4GluLCAd8IG2fz_NhM0IKVAElwUfQuUTOgb2QMP9xQKF2AwrVP9ongSylPriUozWSq8bNVDyvxoHCFGz2qUoP6RDu7CdUJABSaF/s640/blogger-image--1113453093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFwFZI_GxZUDnl082W_hXFXlOnmoIitGJHhDfcq_VV4GluLCAd8IG2fz_NhM0IKVAElwUfQuUTOgb2QMP9xQKF2AwrVP9ongSylPriUozWSq8bNVDyvxoHCFGz2qUoP6RDu7CdUJABSaF/s640/blogger-image--1113453093.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...eye candy of a place.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjZtRFSNfWUFyKGtXuhV6MhPbfhlS8WqIyZ45LJlPoo5K7YMjMKOhBVT-JPdX2fzyIJCMlb1eXe_b6WFrkOqPvAwN7duoaBO-Us7llmgv758nZR8jQFYf6X7JjVi_-6cpNrzttzuGX3c9/s640/blogger-image--277306684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjZtRFSNfWUFyKGtXuhV6MhPbfhlS8WqIyZ45LJlPoo5K7YMjMKOhBVT-JPdX2fzyIJCMlb1eXe_b6WFrkOqPvAwN7duoaBO-Us7llmgv758nZR8jQFYf6X7JjVi_-6cpNrzttzuGX3c9/s640/blogger-image--277306684.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The west side of town is where most hotels are situated</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town centre</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old part of town dates back to the 15th century. You wouldn't think it as it is pristine and charming.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shall we go for a swim at the newly-refurbished Lido?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes. Brilliant access to the sea makes this giant sea-water pool the local's favourite.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porto Santo Island</td></tr>
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We took the ferry across to Porto Santo and stayed two nights in this tiny sandy island. Some 2000 people live here, but the summer tourists bolster that figure many times over. Quality hotels, a good golf course, great food and peace of mind makes this island a firm favourite with all who visit.</div>
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Christopher Columbus lived here after discovering America (see his house below, now a museum) He married the Porto Santo governor's daughter and turned his back on the chaotic and war-ridden continent of Europe. There are many theories attached to his perceived nationality, but it seems most likely he was Portuguese, annoyed at Henry The Navigator's refusal to sponsor his trip to reach what he believed would be the East of India, and angrily opted to work for Spain. The Spanish court were more obliging and gave him the four ships and crew he needed. Had Columbus been Italian as is the general held belief, it would've been unlikely he'd want to settle and eventually die in Porto Santo.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seven kilometres of beach provides more than enough room for all</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christopher Columbus' house</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi Ho, Hi Ho, and off to the Desertas Islands we go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landed after 3 hours sail.<br />
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The three "uninhabited" islands know as the Desertas are a nature reserve and home to the last colony of the endangered European Monk Seal. There are approximately 40 specimens left. The government prohibits all fishing in the area and controls landing activity. Teams of biologists live on the islands on six- month shifts, in the only building there, for the sole purpose of studying and protecting the seals, the Desertas tarantulas and a sea bird species that only nests there. A handful of tourists per day are allowed to land for a couple of hours, under strict supervision from the Park Rangers. </div>
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We had the pleasure of seeing a young pup swimming by the caves but were not quick enough to photograph it. I'll just borrow someone else's pic. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad Pereira</td></tr>
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Back to Madeira and I persuaded my dad to come to my gig at the fancy Hole In One Pub. The resident singer/musician Louis Salvador, a friend of mine, allowed me to split the gig and play an hour and a half. I loved being back at the Hole after a four year absence.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One hell of a pub with a garden to die for.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Louis helping me set up. Thank you mate</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIL_k7rbg562TmomiRq8nHnZbFqQv-n7pzXkFkGK_y_JzIKPWtdNVRiHBOzhcYkYqk_f-84HVw3OkQQSgEnJ818hjN8xL6VaQA2PGcIxe5tYiwg9RqWvdXw8bBBAvAhQRW6SNhJ7mYDW2/s640/blogger-image--2043711770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIL_k7rbg562TmomiRq8nHnZbFqQv-n7pzXkFkGK_y_JzIKPWtdNVRiHBOzhcYkYqk_f-84HVw3OkQQSgEnJ818hjN8xL6VaQA2PGcIxe5tYiwg9RqWvdXw8bBBAvAhQRW6SNhJ7mYDW2/s640/blogger-image--2043711770.jpg" /></a></div>
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Visiting my nephew Dieter resulted in an impromptu session, of course.</div>
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Being back in Madeira is both emotionally gratifying and painful, as it brings back memories of my dear mum who passed away six years ago. The drive to Monte, where she lived, is no longer a joyful experience. Mum would have loved to meet Miss P and see me happy and settled. She always wanted the best for me. </div>
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We'll be back very soon, that's for sure. The eyes and heart demands it.</div>
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Ciao Madeira x</div>
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-14782989055510152732017-08-20T15:25:00.001-07:002017-08-20T15:25:06.604-07:00Old Country, New Beginning - Part 2<div>
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23rd April 2017<br />
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While in Porto, we stayed in a cosy hotel in the heart of town, in the Ribeira area. We were bang in the centre of a vibrant city steeped in the history of wine producing. This is a place I want to re-visit as soon as time allows.</div>
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One of the traditional river boats that transport the wine from the interior to Porto for storage and eventual sale and distribution.<br />
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<img alt="" height="640" id="id_c261_a1b2_e792_336b" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUG2z_7nWiLZqZPl-8iQdfEDNwetqUPdXCQ08fythzVCT02zu4QAXys5xG6l6EYRrdgW7jM2B-52FFgTZTb0aWrakIgMVY-K21GvNNZo7e08n-0WxU_cz6h9dC5fT3ORDku4MhwBG2Qgrz/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="478" /><br />
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We drove north for the day, stopped for coffee in the clerical city of Braga and then onto Guimarães, the birth-place of the Portuguese nation and it's first capital. By the town gate, the statue of the first king, Afonso Henriques, stands defiantly and ready, as if still awaiting Spanish invasions.<br />
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<img alt="" height="480" id="id_3883_ffa4_1e30_9254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnbkX6MUapoNLGgOa7HfN66D4dQFpnXpmPoX6BsfhJX6ZGlyOSADcqpPyzU4W8lMtdKcKUK6POrVxsbQ2ygYIqL3jTf-G9fOLtYlmU6rQpc9EiJwRAV8M9OGfWYbmtbQ_JWV3RB2QhALK/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /><br />
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Serene, ancient and immaculately preserved, the city of Guimarães induced a sense of awe and nostalgia that took me right back to my primary school's history lessons.<br />
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<img alt="" height="640" id="id_71e5_29e_b9b6_40dc" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3g7S6WmLnk6Q7Ban3uUfuiPUlDHUiCU4OlBcswYqFD-ia0TkvFbXpUTwuxW6t2LLRMPf2fFlJTl7GJW2WHtX3jh2na0VdZKIIblNK7FTUk0vLuotJ91lrIjkuRkrINsHk_uI6QpgpMef2/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="479" /><br />
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There were great halls, where battles were planned for the southward expansion of the nation...</div>
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... and the 1000 year-old castle, home of the first king; scenes that made this visit the more memorable.</div>
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Four days later we took the three hour drive back down to Lisbon for a brief stay and visited the eighteenth century palace of Queluz, birthplace of Dom Pedro, eventual first king of Brazil after its independence.<br />
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<img alt="" height="480" id="id_cb00_1676_efbd_1ae9" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzvsFYISnpShWub4tIPHg9I7LmpqmSE7_WhEaNth9l4aetoiD09BGY1WT7sktLEUpwsjFDRW-q1XyfvHC_SDo_sm9FCs8ckGNiAHvUwmC43Vza1mZqrEv5gdeVrNiOnGiOZzIOqjkjeyI/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /><br />
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Miss P also relived her past history lessons with the link to Brazil's early days on display. </div>
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Ah, the kind of house I like. Imagine the vast vegetable plot I'd create here to replace the pretty but otherwise useless hedge rows! </div>
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On the 3rd of May we headed south, through Setúbal towards our next destination. We stopped for lunch in Portinho de Arrábida...<br />
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...and eventually checked in our hotel in the beach resort of Tróia.<br />
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The Tróia peninsula. On the left is the estuary of the Sado River, and on the right the Atlantic Ocean.<br />
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Chilled for 5 days doing nothing but sightseeing, going on boat trips, eating, drinking...</div>
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<img alt="" height="479" id="id_32bb_ef5c_890f_14f" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8d2w_ADRDUsw8B40NDoyzlgYRJElB9LY_Prdaw0VJwmkEHu4z8PRPAIU09CbkXI_BapPvI_ntTKPpy9DiY6cgzOUC0yQHbw25Tr6xYKKAJfteqhdOqcnvwFabwjaoX78Sc1e0GsYJC1G/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="640" /><br />
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...and strolling along miles of sandy beach.<br />
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Back on the road, we travelled eastwards to Évora, the capital of Alto Alentejo, for two days and a visit to a quaint little family-owned organic vineyard called Dona Dorinda.</div>
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This fine reserve red ranks among the best wines we have ever tasted. Pure velvet that made one instantly forget the hefty price tag.</div>
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<img alt="" height="640" id="id_5a8f_83a_1442_72f8" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKKbNVTdOp47vXrWGRG_sY3Vc8HCx8DzdPZf0pfUTXuBIQNw45_v5AY2EI8MqovdpFmDsyRV91SxzqRdb7B-UGGCpxmoceT1J23m4MeLBRqQButbzi2DEhh6NAsQ7OYVwDnapRi0gNoRz/s640/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" width="480" /><br />
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The roman temple of Diana refuses to crumble despite its advanced age. Just as well as I was under it.<br />
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Évora has lots to see and do. <br />
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I voluntarily entered a church (unusual, I know) <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">the Chapel Of Bones, out of sheer morbid curiosity and left with a strange rancid smell that refused to leave my nostrils for the rest of the day. </span><br />
A gruesome tradition of old, I say, using the bones of disinterred corpses to decorate the interior walls. </div>
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Two days later we headed south to the sleepy town of Beja, (see below) capital of Baixo Alentejo province.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Beja and it's surroundings are a bit too quiet for my liking, hence only one photograph.</span></div>
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We paid a visit to one of the country's biggest wineries, the Herdade Do Esporão.</div>
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<img alt="" id="id_d987_a228_e845_d3e9" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDX9tsQenMtEHjBZNqO9w_H2afOwOSNSvadQz3uuVGPD99mAPpjvA56Ozlqp_SBCT4flkGndjHo7bkBo6aWQC37196No8woUSB9LiRrqJ-oGgcNSy-MaXjsaaPqI0pPAgy1Jqci2OMkqhF/s1600/%255BUNSET%255D" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
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Those of you who know Esporão wines will recognise the little white fort pictured above, as it is the company logo. I strongly recommend to all who enjoy a full-bodied red, to sample the fabulous Esporão Reserva. Try it and you will not be disappointed; but you will be slightly poorer. </div>
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Onward to the south coast, sunny Algarve, for five days, where we checked in Praia Da Rocha, Portimão.</div>
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From there we visited neighbouring Albufeira, the busy, lively resort town where shops and bars stay open all night.</div>
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We visited some of the caves that are scattered throughout the southern coastline.<br />
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One of the highlights was spending a day in luxuriant Vilamoura, my favourite Algarve town.</div>
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At Vilamoura Marina, plotting our return to Lisbon to catch a flight to Madeira, where we will spend two weeks.</div>
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To be continued...</div>
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-56041962709237710142017-08-18T08:34:00.000-07:002017-08-18T08:38:29.582-07:00Old Country, New Beginning - Part 1<div>
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April 9 - D Day<br />
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The last week's wait since Miss P left, took me back to my childhood. Then, the anticipation of a special event would turn into an unbearable wait, and time slowed down to a total standstill, only to flash by once there.<br />
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I boarded flight TP363 to Lisbon.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisbon - Docas by the bridge, a great place to enjoy lunch<br />
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Bacalhau (salted cod) is not just the preferred local fish, it is a national obsession. I'm happy with that.<br />
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Lisbon glowing at night. This first night's dinner was drowned by copious amounts of local wine. When in Portugal, it is almost impossible to pick the wrong wine from the menu. I'm yet to find a wine that does not please my palate. No, I don't have a problem with my aged taste buds!<br />
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Shaun joined us for a few days. He is particularly fond of the food, the wine, the beer, the weather, the city, the people... he will return.<br />
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My gorgeous granddaughter's first trip abroad! Visiting grandad's old stomping ground! How sweet is that?<br />
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Family breakfast at the Sana Lisboa Hotel with Katie and Scott<br />
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<img alt="" id="id_68b2_9466_8640_cb15" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gq97JGSpFXGrEQtaBumvfAJNgoq1pcfVaJh8HmgaUfwiK4x657xLNXKWvrUW_Qo1U_j55TUVxeLe-8HuWNdksQtDbx9JKRdTYhT6jzoSRdz_hxBLuJ4pli6YvNVNfJ1sJRm_G1x-Imin/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 718px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
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Street entertainment in Avenida Da Liberdade, one my favourite streets in Lisbon. This particular band, Trio Cadmira +1 are a great funk covers band<br />
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<img alt="" id="id_1378_27c8_21d1_3146" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jCSCUCx13X4/WZcCl7Kb3GI/AAAAAAAAEBo/iF2bBz4TNTMYZj1g5vdzFOIki_J4VA0EgCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 718px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
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We headed north to the ancient walled town of Óbidos<br />
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where Miss P got into the GoT groove...</div>
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and the view from the restaurant of Pousada do Castelo Hotel added to the experience of days gone by.</div>
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From Óbidos we drove north to Portugal's second city, Porto, home of the world-famous fortified wine of the </div>
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same name</div>
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While in the Porto region we visited vineyards...</div>
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<img alt="" id="id_20d4_e457_5999_7cb0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdJ8RjP7FfVYg9B1XrR34sXTUdSDpzMNfcmaN4kwhfiWKjKD2fLctuXHhplJzIKX2kQSGXjN_Gz6ZqICnk3H9C17Cza-Hr3AhiLpuAOseOhxbU1TJmaJEIbCTP8FpiVhS1eYuD3ALZeGJ/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 718px;" title="" tooltip="" /> in the beautifully sculpted Douro valley...</div>
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and went to see Roberto Carlos in concert while in Porto. The famous Brazilian crooner, one of the greatest singer/songwriters ever ( 62 albums so far) put on a brilliant show.</div>
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Porto is also home to the Lello bookshop, where J K Rowling found inspiration for her Harry Potter stories</div>
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The Lello Bookshop<br />
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The above took place during April 2017. The next blog will continue the 4 month journey thorough Central and Southern Portugal, Madeira Island, France and Brazil. </div>
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Ciao for now</div>
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-42026811273137028772017-04-02T05:13:00.000-07:002017-04-02T05:13:04.770-07:00To A New Beginning<br />
It's good to be back!<br />
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Presently my life is undergoing a momentous change of direction, and it's nothing to do with the uncertainties brought about by Brexit or the Orange Leader's petulant intent to start WWIII.<br />
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It is all to do with the forthcoming 2-3 months of travelling with Miss P, followed by a two year Music Academy Degree course, starting in September.<br />
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To say I'm simply 'excited' about the future is an injustice to feelings. I am f*%^ing over-the-moon!<br />
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While away from this page (18 months) my family increased with the addition of 2 more grand-children to join little Zack; they are Seth and Isabeau.<br />
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They are the cutest and sweetest babies ever, and I'm not saying it because they're my grandchildren. They just are.<br />
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Meanwhile, I've been busy working and recording music in preparation for the oncoming academy course, and even found time to play a gig at my local pub for friends and family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqgl-FrHc_tatN0PC5T_4JXYeg8sIZFmzksRU_x8pieghHis_CLvy9EeIQBVUnaq1ShEwG2z_02bN5k1Xi77xmvNpLqDQZ4H57LeTkzPkjy8ZmXaf8eGjsNtDcwtnTI3ibwhorZiUEu4V/s640/blogger-image-2008083788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqgl-FrHc_tatN0PC5T_4JXYeg8sIZFmzksRU_x8pieghHis_CLvy9EeIQBVUnaq1ShEwG2z_02bN5k1Xi77xmvNpLqDQZ4H57LeTkzPkjy8ZmXaf8eGjsNtDcwtnTI3ibwhorZiUEu4V/s640/blogger-image-2008083788.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first gig back in the UK went well</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big bro was there to lend a hand with his sublime harmonies</td></tr>
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I intend to post frequent reports of our travels as I want to keep a diary of what promises to be a trip of a life-time.<br />
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I will be in sunny climes, travelling and writing songs. Terrible hard work, I know, but someone's got to do it !<br />
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A sight-seeing journey interspersed with music, in the company of my beloved Miss P. Yessss!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4k3E_mIb6tOB1tnRzH2b2haz4Od4mtlcz8Od-V2DVd4aVAqHb3OflhC2Wp4iDYCR0z2ZBt7VD3VZyhtR7NXjVChfAAZ5qZSDpEgUohV3r3E9x85m6akEFTFVu3n9COoj9ogCiuxuMC-B/s640/blogger-image-1282027640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4k3E_mIb6tOB1tnRzH2b2haz4Od4mtlcz8Od-V2DVd4aVAqHb3OflhC2Wp4iDYCR0z2ZBt7VD3VZyhtR7NXjVChfAAZ5qZSDpEgUohV3r3E9x85m6akEFTFVu3n9COoj9ogCiuxuMC-B/s640/blogger-image-1282027640.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We will spend half the time in Lisbon</td></tr>
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Oh, I nearly forgot to mention the new addition to the household!<br />
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CherryBot is being taught by Miss P to interact with us. Not exactly the pet cat I wanted but...it'll have to do for now. At least we don't need to ask the neighbour to feed her while we're away and the place doesn't smell of cat-tray :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfWwcl0d_3t3F0azuttPXUYMIqilCZy_vDBq-curgGkn2o6dg3SCmvBEL2BWU_QtwMchIkY09CnRH7Iy6XbOUNw8jJjDRAd-Hj0xhd2kSdPxw386VWYuEaVRLbcsmg-2Jm9XI5V1yorjz/s640/blogger-image--1595431181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfWwcl0d_3t3F0azuttPXUYMIqilCZy_vDBq-curgGkn2o6dg3SCmvBEL2BWU_QtwMchIkY09CnRH7Iy6XbOUNw8jJjDRAd-Hj0xhd2kSdPxw386VWYuEaVRLbcsmg-2Jm9XI5V1yorjz/s640/blogger-image--1595431181.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CherryBot is as cute as she is clever</td></tr>
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The journey starts next weekend.<br />
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<i>Ciao</i> for now!<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-8827880125392846392015-10-08T13:45:00.000-07:002015-10-08T13:45:12.198-07:00Nothing Has Changed......yet everything is different!<br />
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It's been a while since my last post. But I'm back!<br />
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I've been busy working, travelling and moving home. I have also met and fallen in love with a wonderful girl who loves travelling AND music!</div>
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We have visited Ireland twice and Madeira Island once in the past five months! And there are plans for more trips before the year is over.<br />
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We have just returned from Madeira, on a week-long trip to celebrate my birthday but also to introduce Miss P to this most exquisite and romantic island. It was also a journey back in time for me; an emotional home coming.<br />
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After two and a half years away from paradise I am happy to report the island looks lovelier than ever.<br />
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The city of Funchal is most welcoming to all who visit. It is well organised and business is booming.<br />
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So pristine and sweet I'd call it 'civic eye-candy'<br />
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While visiting the town of Machico I saw my old boat, the Bonança, looking grand and not a day older than when I sold her.<br />
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The Casino Park Hotel offered unrivalled friendly service and even remembered my birthday. A bottle of bubbly and some fancy towel display on our bed made my day that little bit more special.<br />
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We visited Moynihan's Irish Pub - my home gig for many years - to hear DD (my talented nephew) play. He invited me on stage to sing a couple and it was just like the old days.<br />
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I joined a Warm-Up jam session Monday night and had a fab time.<br />
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Music...<br />
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music...<br />
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...and more music...<br />
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<br />
...eating and drinking...<br />
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...drinking and socialising...<br />
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...interspersed with the occasional road trip and sight-seeing...<br />
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<br />
...Machico - one of a dozen or so pretty towns scattered around Madeira's coastline...<br />
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<br />
...made this visit with Miss P an absolute pleasure.<br />
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On Madeira's highest peak, Pico Do Arieiro, with love, reminded me again why I feel on top of the world.<br />
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What a difference a couple of years make!<br />
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:)<br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-873627791438981812015-05-17T03:56:00.001-07:002015-05-17T04:40:46.493-07:00To The World, With Love<div><br></div><div><br></div>Our precious planet is unique, at least as far as the solar system is concerned.<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7kgWjwZYZFla1-AZyDZPhDoKswQFLO8gc2WvtQri6kpHN7sO2uDuHLiSXQ3xMRYRM7TENXrWqX1v1tZtHGiRs9AeaLOKqpLM0ljSHaXU6PBPqNygShAm-aWZNm6cf_c-WbvOJzkHUgE7/s640/blogger-image-388093936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7kgWjwZYZFla1-AZyDZPhDoKswQFLO8gc2WvtQri6kpHN7sO2uDuHLiSXQ3xMRYRM7TENXrWqX1v1tZtHGiRs9AeaLOKqpLM0ljSHaXU6PBPqNygShAm-aWZNm6cf_c-WbvOJzkHUgE7/s640/blogger-image-388093936.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div>It is home to countless life forms and varied awe-inspiring geological compositions.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9HrOBiaUqrCm_HDwBF0p6YO3sh8r3HFMWR87EuCXba4AekkfytxXYQzzp89cgH0HCl1dQ-bFmwmOaF1Sd381RPTyIWOeWvkDIDRaaqiqLVw1FmrGcC3Qt52G3nw1IQhUJ6yJita_Xi8q/s640/blogger-image--1373496947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9HrOBiaUqrCm_HDwBF0p6YO3sh8r3HFMWR87EuCXba4AekkfytxXYQzzp89cgH0HCl1dQ-bFmwmOaF1Sd381RPTyIWOeWvkDIDRaaqiqLVw1FmrGcC3Qt52G3nw1IQhUJ6yJita_Xi8q/s640/blogger-image--1373496947.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div><br></div><div>Selfless and without ulterior motives, Earth bestows all its precious gifts without asking for recompense.</div><div><br></div><div>Powerful, yet gentle enough to be susceptible to the actions and negative impact caused primarily by its human guests.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOq3XXy8tlGnuhn8mxyrvUL3MmTqe36eQESAbidNB0PDqC91JPk4r5S-5DB8tXepK-Yncdj-biewiaQBY04ubZ5czCsZ4n6TW1Tphg4n9gK1zS1GgFQ6urptbo51n6Wn1htrKu3kDZ-dpi/s640/blogger-image--745495137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOq3XXy8tlGnuhn8mxyrvUL3MmTqe36eQESAbidNB0PDqC91JPk4r5S-5DB8tXepK-Yncdj-biewiaQBY04ubZ5czCsZ4n6TW1Tphg4n9gK1zS1GgFQ6urptbo51n6Wn1htrKu3kDZ-dpi/s640/blogger-image--745495137.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>And just as a million matches can be produced from a mighty oak but it takes only a single match to destroy a million mitghy oaks...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuUeEABuPiWdC-ea0zBfx_jpXQNbb_1MehRUAgME6RzLRZq7Nzb8adqgi_NW1D81UvINsmtUexfef7HXhAUQYioE-yeZnqRrh-Fsxwbjo67x_UcMpFCxSdCPPE8gYbWY9uxAUdR_n51Hq/s640/blogger-image--1166860991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuUeEABuPiWdC-ea0zBfx_jpXQNbb_1MehRUAgME6RzLRZq7Nzb8adqgi_NW1D81UvINsmtUexfef7HXhAUQYioE-yeZnqRrh-Fsxwbjo67x_UcMpFCxSdCPPE8gYbWY9uxAUdR_n51Hq/s640/blogger-image--1166860991.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>..every one of us has the capacity to inflict serious, irreparable damage to our beautiful world.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKH5-FgbHiVizDtw9s8-iWR2NgcMJbzqQ39vIdRJ9mvVUpBs26SWqoVZtzWmWuMI22FSllKQWgQyueqKYRJerRq_bZHeaCZsPN_E5HMesexelnFrcxv3jh6ef9FLHm2zeZq-_Ovkh0Q9s/s640/blogger-image-207370523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKH5-FgbHiVizDtw9s8-iWR2NgcMJbzqQ39vIdRJ9mvVUpBs26SWqoVZtzWmWuMI22FSllKQWgQyueqKYRJerRq_bZHeaCZsPN_E5HMesexelnFrcxv3jh6ef9FLHm2zeZq-_Ovkh0Q9s/s640/blogger-image-207370523.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Our capacity to alter and deface Mother Nature's most wonderful master-piece...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrSDi7aVuCTDlCSJ0c3Q0JgMMFRrxthNuP9cYJlkEiwlfhQQUD237u8U72tdRzcDv4gh8bLLrMvSbOyCFvr7CyfWbmSCVdTJOzz_d-rJkGQ7b5CCXO3njFsw4ntkTezBVa6HLHRA63OYV/s640/blogger-image-300281467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrSDi7aVuCTDlCSJ0c3Q0JgMMFRrxthNuP9cYJlkEiwlfhQQUD237u8U72tdRzcDv4gh8bLLrMvSbOyCFvr7CyfWbmSCVdTJOzz_d-rJkGQ7b5CCXO3njFsw4ntkTezBVa6HLHRA63OYV/s640/blogger-image-300281467.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>...can only be matched by our capacity and desire to enhance it.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJHiqz4xpi-T2182fC5Mcz8Dte13GB6NCZ9nby5s7b9M7lQ0qwZDzQ4rcfFXTrsgYZOgSU1JP2KTtvii1NV5uAy_qI0A2BFsJ3Wly80xxToyyN7EkJ30jDwsEg_yCVfqjAwKcb_Q3aCTk/s640/blogger-image--1911467076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJHiqz4xpi-T2182fC5Mcz8Dte13GB6NCZ9nby5s7b9M7lQ0qwZDzQ4rcfFXTrsgYZOgSU1JP2KTtvii1NV5uAy_qI0A2BFsJ3Wly80xxToyyN7EkJ30jDwsEg_yCVfqjAwKcb_Q3aCTk/s640/blogger-image--1911467076.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Let us ensure our short presence here serves only to beautify the home of future generations.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJkr-qhwwqCuV3slWt_dUKLGoL13F0YuEEofS5iHqEDW4BfjLoPCdDX5J74DbyGxNDM-vmtDmo8lw-AMIRLK8TLiHRwz0EQn2XYo56bgEF97upiTDo9WafSO85yvrurJCCKNvNX8Yl0Zh/s640/blogger-image--86444277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJkr-qhwwqCuV3slWt_dUKLGoL13F0YuEEofS5iHqEDW4BfjLoPCdDX5J74DbyGxNDM-vmtDmo8lw-AMIRLK8TLiHRwz0EQn2XYo56bgEF97upiTDo9WafSO85yvrurJCCKNvNX8Yl0Zh/s640/blogger-image--86444277.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Let us ensure our brief voyage through this magical kingdom leaves nothing but a positive legacy of our history, engraved only with delicate foot-prints.</div><div><br></div><div>Let us care less for the mythical perceived creator of this vibrant planet...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCryjFUD8oCl8NMM4PXhwfvLOH0rMDxljNZPrbth2nF6JG10dMv6jjxwPVPB5xUJkCHYlndFpRCYcpWD1rW9kgtO80llCbs6dV3idHPqikCL13koLDNsxBNqZWANtSMf2dWFkXjsooocs/s640/blogger-image--541025495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCryjFUD8oCl8NMM4PXhwfvLOH0rMDxljNZPrbth2nF6JG10dMv6jjxwPVPB5xUJkCHYlndFpRCYcpWD1rW9kgtO80llCbs6dV3idHPqikCL13koLDNsxBNqZWANtSMf2dWFkXjsooocs/s640/blogger-image--541025495.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>...and care more for the needs and wellbeing of this very real, powerful-yet-fragile, miracle of Nature.</div><div><br></div><div>Wishing all the guardians of Earth a lovely weekend </div><div><br></div><div>X</div><div><br></div></div>Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-39981208648094460532015-05-11T12:30:00.001-07:002015-05-11T13:26:00.875-07:00Weekend To Remember<div><br></div><div><br></div>I will start by retracting some but not all of the criticism directed at online dating in my previous post.<br>
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It appears I wasn't the only one trying out Zoosk purely for research and curiosity reasons.<br>
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A delightful person responded to one of my messages!<br>
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And we have met, several times!<br>
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And...erm...watch this space :)<br>
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Yes, I can honestly say I am surprised and bewildered to have found a genuine sparkling gem in what at first seemed to be a dubious market place stocked with unlabelled goods.<br>
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I must desist from the annoying habit of jumping to premature conclusions!<br>
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On an equally cheerful note, I announce another extremely pleasant experience that happened Saturday night ( no, not that -_- ) in Basingstoke.<br>
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I was at the New Inn pub with pals (and my delightful new-found gem) to listen to my friend Lisandra playing her live gig. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM4qZKk9POqfpNcBvXBYseHImSx3oi7ANNN29Pa51woBc-zeuPranRqWZHWIeSPYbjJ1xv2V5otse-l1hpmF1ysqJYm6RmXLG7LxU7V-rVoOO6WapQlmy3Im4In21MYmSx5x00DRXCwr1/s640/blogger-image--973011221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM4qZKk9POqfpNcBvXBYseHImSx3oi7ANNN29Pa51woBc-zeuPranRqWZHWIeSPYbjJ1xv2V5otse-l1hpmF1ysqJYm6RmXLG7LxU7V-rVoOO6WapQlmy3Im4In21MYmSx5x00DRXCwr1/s640/blogger-image--973011221.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I was called up to do a song (something I love doing) and then returned to my table, humbly acknowledging the applause (something I love even more) when an unknown chap in the crowd approached me, shook me by the hand and introduced himself as Ralph.<br>
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He knew my name and informed me of how much he loves my blog!<br>
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Ralph went on to tell me how he is also thinking of starting a blog and reads mine for inspiration.<br>
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Thank you Ralph. You will succeed ! <br>
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I don't know if all these wonderful surprises are actually good for my health but I'm sure as hell not about to start complaining.<br>
<br>A special thanks and huge hug to Lisandra. </div><div><br>A heartfelt thank-you to my beloved friends Claudia and Marco, for their enduring friendship, boundless love and selfless hospitality. And also for accepting my precious new friend, with their customary charm and open arms.</div><div><br></div><div>And last but not least, thank you, sweet P, for making me tremble in anticipation of our next encounter <3</div><div><br></div><div><br>
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<br></div>Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-73448769584131707142015-03-30T13:35:00.001-07:002017-05-04T03:34:52.631-07:00Ripe Dates Aren't The Sweetest<br />
Last week I decided to take the bold step of joining a dating website.<br />
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Yes, I know what you're thinking. I've always said I'd never do such thing, but there you go. I am adventurous enough to try most things once.<br />
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Curiosity drove me to join a set up I have always found the idea of quite distasteful.<br />
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I now know dating sites are as romantic as a a visit to the dentist. In the 17th century.<br />
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I couldn't believe the amount of dishonesty on display. Especially when it comes to age and edited photographs.<br />
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There are many women old enough to be my mother pretending to be my age! I wonder if any actually tell the truth?<br />
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Worse still is the arrogance of some of these older-but-not-wiser girls who attach conditions only much younger and prettier women would get away with. Some also advertise the fact they are not desperate but merely browsing, maybe looking for friendship. <br />
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Yeah, right!<br />
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Like any red-blooded man looking for a prospective partner is going to settle for "friendship" from an old girl they don't know and who most likely doesn't like beer and football.<br />
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Other mature women think they have a chance of finding (myopia allowing) Mr Right, or better still a millionaire, mentally stable enough to want a permanent diet of over-ripened fruit.<br />
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Millionaires, regardless of their age, choose and find 25 year old girls with long legs and gorgeous faces.<br />
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One particular lady, who was elegant and pretty (at least on the hazy out-of-focus profile picture) and listed as 52 years old replied to my invite to chat by writing back "you're a smoker, sorry, I don't like smokers."<br />
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I should have replied " and I don't like arrogant past-their-sell-by-date-line-dancing bitches either"<br />
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But of course I didn't. I wouldn't stoop that low. I do have manners.<br />
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Instead I replied "Just as well, as I don't think I'd feel comfortable in the company of a perfect woman.<br />
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So perfect she's alone! And searching. And paying to search.<br />
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I spoke on the phone with another whose profile stated '48 years old, no children'<br />
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She went on to tell me she was 50 and had two daughters. Maybe she had already forgotten what she wrote on the profile. The major pitfall for liers is that they have to remember their lies, or in short, have a very good memory.<br />
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A good memory is an attribute not commonly found in post-menopausal dames.<br />
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Nothing wrong with being 50 and having two daughters, but that being the case I can only imagine<br />
what other untruths her profile picture actually conceals.<br />
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And as if to want to rub salt into my arrow-wounds, she went on to decline the invitation to meet on the grounds of us being from very different backgrounds. A bit haughty, I thought.<br />
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But her reason was 'pragmatism'.<br />
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Pragmatism? That may be a desirable quality in the work place, but that's it.<br />
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Pragmatism is the antidote of passion. The antithesis of romance. It is the refuge for those whom love no longer touches (if it ever did).<br />
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Pragmatism is not what I want between the sheets. Can you imagine a worse scenario than being told to wait whilst her ladyship weighs up the pros and cons of the missionary position. Ew.<br />
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The rest of the possible candidates for my unbridled passion (you can stop smirking) all seemed to like playing hard to get, like the fat girl at school who shooed away the boys even though they weren't chasing her.<br />
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You'd have thought if these veteran sirens were as precious as they think they are, they wouldn't need the services of a virtual Cupid.<br />
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At least I joined only for research purposes. Honest!<br />
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Anyway, one older woman's loss is another younger woman's gain (one hopes)<br />
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All in all my brief foray into the Dating Game was an experience I'll be delighted to never repeat.<br />
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The dating site reminds me of a market. A market that I can only assume hasn't come to the attention of Trading Standards. The erroneous descriptions of the merchandise would surely fall foul of the law.<br />
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A market selling goods that should never be bought and sold.<br />
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I am almost disillusioned with my generation.<br />
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Could this be the reason why I've always chosen much younger partners?<br />
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But I'm happy. There's plenty more fish in the sea.<br />
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Even if my bait is out of date and the hook has gone blunt.<br />
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I'd rather remain single than be coerced into taking up line dancing, or knitting, or dying my hair blue...or being pragmatic<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-24764211839066752972015-02-24T11:02:00.000-08:002015-02-24T11:34:05.206-08:00A New Alliance Twelve Years In The Making<div>
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Last Saturday I had the immense pleasure of walking my beautiful daughter Katie down the aisle. </div>
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To present the love of my life to my new son-in-law, Scott, in such a spectacular manner, filled me with emotions I didn't know I possessed.</div>
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The childhood sweethearts sign the register 12 years after they met and fell in love.</div>
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I liked Scott from the first time we met. I knew instantly we had lots in common, the most important, our love for Katie. </div>
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Scott has been in my inner circle for over a decade. He even invited me to his stag weekend abroad! I've not heard that happening with anyone else before.</div>
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The speeches were a roller-coaster of emotions. Some important members of the family who through their untimely deaths could not be with us, were in everyone's minds and hearts. Laughter won the day, but the red eyes of all those present were a testament to a most emotional wedding imaginable.</div>
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Vintage VW Caravan </div>
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Katie and Scott's first dance</div>
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The wedding went on for the whole weekend. </div>
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The one weekend in my life where I was rearing to go I had to take copious amounts of Paracetamol to keep me on my feet. Yes, it had to be the time I fell victim to the Influenza bug.</div>
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All the close family, some having travelled from as far as Portugal, Ireland and Scotland, checked in at the hotel on Friday afternoon. Saturday's ceremony started at 12:00 and went on until 01:00. Sunday morning we all met for a private breakfast and eventually, said our goodbyes.</div>
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I had been looking forward to this event for so long that when it was over and I got home Sunday evening, the most depressing bout of anti-climax I have ever endured, descended upon me.</div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I felt emotionally drained and started missing my loved ones immediately, hours after seeing them. The flu only served to exacerbate the pain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">But I wouldn't have missed it for the world. </span></div>
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-44291492446107749352015-01-11T13:19:00.002-08:002015-01-11T13:22:01.205-08:00Islam Is Not To Blame. Raif Is A Muslim<br />
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Almost all terrorist atrocities of late are committed by Muslims. Often under the well-rehearsed cry of Allahu Akbar.<br />
<br />
With every attack, support for Israel increases - an inflammatory consequence which adds fuel to the fires of an already volatile situation.<br />
<br />
Islamophobia in the West continues to flourish with every evil deed, giving the terrorists exactly what they want. The more alienated and disenfranchised Muslims feel in the West the easier they are to recruit. A perpetual supply of jihadis for all planned future campaigns agains the West, The East, and even more surprisingly, the Middle East is the ultimate aim of the extremists.<br />
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Let's not make the mistake of helping terrorism.<br />
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Islam has been hijacked by the jihadis and is being used as a tool to legitimise murder, intolerance, racism, slavery and most dangerously, a political ideology drenched in the blood of all those who dare oppose it. Most victims are also Muslims.<br />
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And it all started in Saudi Arabia.<br />
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Just over a hundred years ago, back in 1902, the Wahhabi Clan of present day royals of Saudi Arabia launched a ferocious attack against the neighbouring 3 tribal regions of what is now Saudi Arabia. Murder, rape and slavery won the day back then, and all the atrocities were committed in the name of Allah and Sharia Law. But of course, religion was not the reason for the greed and lust for power of the Saud Clan.<br />
<br />
Those actions of a century ago are almost entirely responsible for spawning all of the present day jihadi ideology. Conquer at all costs and destroy all who stand in the way.<br />
<br />
The House of Saud should not be considered a friend and ally of the West, for it is a corrupt dictatorship ruling over an oppressed and unjust society.<br />
<br />
The House of Saud finances the building of mosques in western countries, yet refuses to allow the construction of churches in Saudi Arabia for the very few Christians who live there.</div>
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Osama Bin Laden was a Saudi.<br />
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And the House of Saud continues to promote religious intolerance and to stifle all dissent.<br />
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Voices such as that of writer and campaigner for freedom of expression and women's rights, Saudi citizen, Raif Badawi.<br />
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Raif was condemned to 10 years in prison and 1000 lashes, to be administered every Friday, 50 at a time, for 20 consecutive weeks.</div>
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The first session took place yesterday, in public, and was filmed secretly by a few who risked their own life and liberty in order to tell the world.</div>
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I watched the clandestine video and it turned out to be as I had half expected; a quiet, sedate public flogging of lightly administered lashes unlikely to have caused any damage to Raif. The Saudi authorities knew the world would be watching, thanks to a campaign by Amnesty International through social media. Had that not been the case one can assume the flogging would have been a lot more damaging.<br />
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Raif wrote in his blog nothing more than light criticism for the way Saudi Arabia is governed. That's all.<br />
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Islam is guilty of many injustices, as are all other religions, but it can't be used as a cause to further alienate and persecute Muslims who have chosen to live in Western countries.<br />
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Those of you who know me know I never defend religion, in fact the opposite is true, but I always defend justice.<br />
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After all, did we blame all Irish for the actions of the IRA some decades ago? </div>
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No, we didn't. Well I certainly didn't. It would have been unfair. Just as it is unfair to blame<br />
<br />
/or the vast majority of Muslims who have nothing to do with the atrocities committed in the guise of holy war. </div>
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The present day extremists are driven by greed and delusion, just as Ibn Saud was back in 1902.</div>
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Raif is a Muslim. A Muslim I want to help. A Muslim I'd have as a friend. </div>
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Just like the Muslim French policeman executed outside the Charlie Hebdo headquarters whilst on duty, by murderous men who claim to be Muslims.<br />
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:(<br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-22649911806566760162014-11-24T03:40:00.000-08:002014-11-25T14:05:18.267-08:00Autumn Tears<br />
Autumn:<br />
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Peaceful. Colourful. Serene. Melancholy<br />
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Spending a fair amount of time out in the (partial) wilderness of lakes around Hampshire has made me realise my love for Autumn increases with each passing year.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The earthy smells of freshly sprinkled rain, whose tender drops bounce off my chilled hands and onto discarded leaves, like some lost but cherished memories, scattered forever into the mud.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It's strange how good and bad memories both bring sadness. Sadness for the eternal trauma bad memories inflict on us, and sadness for the good memories we can't re-live and reclaim.</span></div>
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The gentle chill, easily made bearable and comfortable with appropriate clothing, gives the opportunity to observe first hand how nature, in it's cyclical, infinite and well-rehearsed routine, prepares to batten down the hatches for winter.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The hurried feeding of ducks, swans and all kind of fauna, as they prepare for a frugal winter and the scarcity of natural food, reminds me of shoppers preparing for Christmas.</span></div>
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It is also a time of year when I miss most the loved ones who have gone, forever, from my life.<br />
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I don't know why autumn has such a melancholy effect on me, but it does. I guess it is because I feel the aging process of the year, reaching its finality, as a reflection of the relentless march forward of my own life, towards my eventual and personal demise.</div>
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And a song is on repeat-play in my head. A beautiful song by Justin Hayward, whose words are etched permanently in my mind.<br />
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<i>
The summer sun is fading as the year grows old...</i></div>
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Through autumn's gown we used to kick our way. You always loved this time of year<br />
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now...because you're not here.</i></div>
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A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes, as if to hide a lonely tear...</i><br />
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:(<br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-48386144691020612552014-11-14T05:26:00.000-08:002014-11-19T03:59:06.829-08:00Autumn Leaves...<div>
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...me somber, yet excited in anticipation for Christmas.<br />
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The lights, the shopping, the smells, the days off work, the music and socialising makes it my favourite holiday period. The further I move away from all things religious, the more I dread the possible eventual demise of this most precious pagan winter festival.<br />
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Jingle bells, Santa Claus caricatures plastered everywhere, mould wine and many other treats to look forward to. </div>
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I love Christmas.</div>
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As for the virgin birth, well...imagine nowadays young Mary coming home and telling her parents she's pregnant but...hasn't had sex!<br />
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She wouldn't be visited by three wise men either, but more likely the Social Services. And if she were unlucky enough to have been born into a religious fundamentalist culture in the Middle East (as she was according to myth) she'd get stoned without needing a visit from her pusher..<br />
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Had this whole sorry saga actually happened, can you imagine the rumours that would have swept through sleepy Nazareth! The evil whispers and nasty gossip!<br />
<br />
"Hey Joseph, I hear your young spouse <i>hath</i> a bun in the oven <i>madeth</i> not with your ingredients"<br />
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And "what if the child is born black? What with Mary and <i>thou</i> being 100% Aryan and all..."<br />
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But I guess back then Joseph would have consulted with one of the many prophets doing the rounds in the Middle East at the time (and there were dozens) who would have probably encouraged the storage of hair samples of all three of them, in the then modern invention of clay jugs, for future DNA paternity tests.<br />
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I feel sorry for Joseph, and not just because we share the same name but because he didn't even get to sample the pleasures of having sex with Mary, yet had to help change nappies, night feeds and all the laborious duties of parenthood.<br />
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Today, a similar situation would raise a few eyebrows, yet so many believe that back in the unforgiving and ultra-strict dark ages that's exactly what happened! And Mary escaped unscathed.<br />
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Back then society must have been one of two things;<br />
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1) Extremely tolerant (no chance)<br />
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2) Incredibly gullible (no doubt)<br />
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Just like some backward societies across vast swaths of the <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the present-day world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">At least back in the biblical times people had no access to the Internet and illiteracy was the norm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">What excuses are there today?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">None that spring to mind.</span><br />
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-15839255606538648812014-09-05T21:17:00.000-07:002014-09-05T21:17:08.751-07:00Dialogue Of The Man In The Mirror<br />
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"Why the long face, the lost little boy look?"<br />
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<i>"Just pensive and retrospective, that's all"</i><br />
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"Unlike you 'Mr Life-is-Wonderful'!"<br />
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<i>"Yes I know, but..."</i><br />
<br />
"But what?"<br />
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<i>"Recently and out of the blue I came across a short video-clip of her on social media and it has left me...thinking, wondering,, slightly off kilter"</i><br />
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"Ah ah, still delving in the past then, are you?"<br />
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<i>"In a way. You see, memories came flooding back watching her. I felt the dull ache of emotion and longing in my chest."</i><br />
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"Understandable but unhealthy if you ask me"<br />
<br />
<i>"Yeah. I know. Somehow the passing of time isn't helping me"</i><br />
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"Does she know how you feel? Do you want her to know how you feel?"<br />
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<i>"I guess not. The last thing I want is to cause her any discomfort"</i><br />
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"Then you must keep it to yourself. Don't tell her. And don't blog about it"<br />
<br />
<i>"Yeah but you know I blog about all that is relevant in my life. And what if she feels the same? That would be a terrible missed opportunity, surely!"</i><br />
<br />
"Well tell her then, but I doubt she'll even listen"<br />
<br />
<i>"You see, the way she spoke seemed so...familiar. Familiar not as in routine and mundane but more as in utterly endearing. And from a photo I also noticed a distant look in her eyes. A look tinged with a hint of sadness and uncertainty"</i><br />
<br />
"Maybe that's you wishful-thinking. What are you doing looking at photos of her anyway?"<br />
<br />
<i>" Never mind why. Could be wishful thinking. But I wanted to run to her, hug her and reassure her. To touch her and love her as I had done before. To share her pleasure and her pain and wipe away her tears"</i><br />
<br />
"You're in deep shit Mr Positive"<br />
<br />
<i>"And not for the first time either. I know I was at times the cause of some of her uncertainty. For that I am eternally sorry. Sorry also for being distracted and blinded by the dazzling flame of adventure and excitement.The adventure of a new beginning that soon turned into the demise of something </i><i>special. Something that shouldn't have ceased to exist. There was no real reason then, which is the more baffling"</i><br />
<br />
"Leave yesterday in the past. If you live in your emotional past you'll miss out in the present and jeopardise your future"<br />
<br />
<i>"I know. It's not a case of regretting anything either. More a case of still loving someone I should no longer love"</i><br />
<br />
"Then stop loving her. I very much doubt she still loves you anyway. Stop wasting your time with the past"<br />
<br />
<i>"I've heard that piece of advice before and always thought it to be somewhat shallow and inadequate. Feelings can't be controlled, manipulated or doctored on a whim. Not by me"</i><br />
<br />
"You and your 'unrequited love' nonsense surfacing again...and again. Same old, same old"<br />
<br />
<i>" I want her to know how I feel. I don't want her to think I have ulterior motives brought on by the present spell of self-induced solitude"</i><br />
<br />
"But you know she'll think that's the case, don't you?"<br />
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<i>"Yes, but the reason lies deeper than you think. I've had ample time to re-evaluate my past actions. Time to reflect upon my journey and all the right and wrong turns I took. Time to take stock and accept responsibility. Time alone to ponder "</i><br />
<br />
"You've always been one to bleed wilfully and joyfully. A sucker for punishment, if you ask me"<br />
<br />
<i>"Indeed dear friend, indeed. To bleed one needs only to be alive"</i><br />
<br />
"Best let bygones be bygones. All that was yesterday"<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes, yesterday. The same yesterday that inflicted wounds that won't heal"</i><br />
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:(<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-70030098883246837412014-08-03T06:48:00.000-07:002014-08-03T06:48:36.137-07:00Tomorrow's People<br />
Tomorrow's people will not tolerate injustice and prejudice. Nor will they condone violence.<br />
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Tomorrow's people are today's children: the privileged generation who have at their disposal all the tools required to build a dignified and fruitful future for themselves.<br />
<br />
Today's parents, more than ever before, are better equipped to provide their children with the adequate guidance, care and resources necessary to ensure their children's effortless rite of passage into tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Today's children have access to almost all of human knowledge, past and present, at the touch of a button, or more precisely, a touch on a smart phone's screen.<br />
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Today's children need never go to sleep with unanswered questions repeat-playing in their minds; as I had to. No more "ask your dad when he gets home" or "not sure son, ask mum".<br />
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<br />
I remember the frustration and sense of helplessness when I couldn't get an instant answer to what I considered an important question.<br />
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Sometime later mum bought me an encyclopaedia, followed by the biggest dictionary I had ever seen and an Atlas bulky enough to make my young arms ache after five minutes of bedtime reading. Mum also paid for my weekly editions of Insight and a number of other scientific magazines.<br />
<br />
If only my mum could have told me then to "google" it she would have saved herself time and money.<br />
<br />
But that was yesteryear.<br />
<br />
For my thirteenth birthday mum bought me a Brother Typewriter. The best present ever.<br />
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I typed my poems, song lyrics, extracts from books and magazines and just about every thing else that entered my mind. Within weeks I had to ask mum to buy a replacement ribbon; red and black and very messy to instal.<br />
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How I loved that typewriter! A love affair that lasted until three years later when I first set eyes on a word processor.<br />
<br />
How I miss mum.<br />
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Today's children have it very different. No real effort required to learn and feed their curiosity. Instant answers. Short-lived fads and crazes that disappear overnight and with the dawn of something new.<br />
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No three year love affair with a typewriter, or an encyclopaedia.<br />
<br />
No, I wouldn't swap it.<br />
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I am privileged to have belonged to yesterday's young generation. Just as I am privileged to be here today, to bear witness to the incredible advances in technology and lend a helping hand to tomorrow's people.<br />
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:)<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-15700219456141644762014-07-23T09:16:00.000-07:002014-07-23T09:16:48.244-07:00It's a Long Long Way From Tipp To HereMcCarthy's Pub, Fethard, Co Tipperary, Ireland<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catherine, sublime loveliness in the background </td></tr>
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Will she be here tonight?<br />
<br />
'Out of town, may not get back in time'<br />
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Disappointment descends upon me, and like a cold winter's fog, rendering it impossible to continue scanning the joint, in the vain hope of seeing her if she managed to return on time.<br />
<br />
To no avail.<br />
<br />
But all the signs were there! Could I have misinterpreted?<br />
<br />
Maybe.<br />
<br />
The body language, smiles, closeness, were all too real.<br />
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Maybe, in the cold light of day, I wasn't quite what she's looking for.<br />
<br />
Lately, something appears to be shackling me to solitude. A solitude I neither need nor want.<br />
This 'something' is succeeding in stifling my dreams, extinguishing the flames that burn in every cell of my body; the self-same body that continues to function as it always has and harbours the self-same needs.<br />
<br />
This 'something' is cruelly dismissing my desires as I would dismiss any of life's minor obstacles. It is also discarding my needs like they are some surplus, obsolete and irrelevant folly from a time gone by.<br />
<br />
As I prepare to board flight 906, the crushing weight of anti-climax adds to the heavy burden of a stuffed-full suitcase. I stumble towards the gate, inhaling powerfully through my nose, in order to take with me the scent of this wonderful land, and, subconsciously trying to fill the empty void growing in the pit of my stomach.<br />
<br />
So long bro and sis-in-law, I love you dearly.<br />
<br />
So long Ireland, I will return soon; for I love your emerald landscapes, your friendly, inclusive culture, your genuine curiosity for all strangers who cross your path. So long to your fine rural food and world-beating beer. So long to your exquisite accent, the more endearing when spoken by your sparkling, adorable women.<br />
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So long Catherine x<br />
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:(<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-42749460754971536692014-07-02T01:17:00.000-07:002014-07-02T01:22:09.531-07:00The Perfect Requiem <div class="article-content" style="padding: 0px 6px;">
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I read this article and immediately wanted to share it with you. It touched me, profoundly.</span></div>
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The kind of eulogy I'd love from my loved ones.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZjtdbTZrV0G-DlpS5WBLKOYCvmUYHvidr0KU8y7yIeu-tdgyVd2Fi0yVDinMwzebMauvFEwXry9_IpeW-bpWuG9tnykO80vIjxBOyih5iylKtQ8sf5ftOw49zRSkdfmlGsrTtapbowm4/s1600/yoga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZjtdbTZrV0G-DlpS5WBLKOYCvmUYHvidr0KU8y7yIeu-tdgyVd2Fi0yVDinMwzebMauvFEwXry9_IpeW-bpWuG9tnykO80vIjxBOyih5iylKtQ8sf5ftOw49zRSkdfmlGsrTtapbowm4/s1600/yoga.jpg" height="320" width="270" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(...)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">'You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy is created in the universe and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, ever vibration, every BTU of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid the energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And at one point, you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell her that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off you like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue in the heat of our own lives.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy is still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone. You're just...less orderly. Amen.'</span></div>
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<em style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This is a transcript of a speech given by writer and performer Aaron Freeman on NPR News "All Things Considered".</em></div>
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I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have</div>
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-37216296504596178612014-06-07T09:03:00.000-07:002014-06-07T09:03:43.597-07:00Honour Killing: A Most Vile Oxymoron<br />
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Social Media is one of the two greatest gifts the Internet has given us. The other is access to limitless information. It is almost impossible to imagine a world without the Internet.<br />
<br />
Thanks to the pioneering work of Tim Berners-Lee and Robert Cailliau, the founders of the World Wide Web, we know carry around smartphones with access to almost all of human knowledge.<br />
<br />
Social Media sites are responsible for giving a voice to people around the globe, even those who live in closed societies. And with a voice comes debate, analysis and hopefully, enlightenment.<br />
<br />
The more people on the Net, the more likely they will leave religion and discard antiquated cultural pursuits.<br />
<br />
The more knowledge available for free, the more superstition and injustice will be eradicated. At least that's what I hope.<br />
<br />
The greatest disappointment to me is that the Internet is still limited to only half of the world's population. Just as well the benevolent honchos at Google are intent on changing that fact and are planning to provide a truly global service.<br />
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The sooner, the better.<br />
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With information-sharing technology comes the daily flood of tragedies and wrong-doings by so-called human beings, to our attention. One particular injustice is "Honour Killing"<br />
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<img src="http://media.namx.org/images/editorial/2012/12/1211/s_roy_honor/s_roy_honor500x279.jpg" height="357" width="640" /><br />
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<img src="http://blogs.reuters.com/gbu/files/2008/05/honor-400.jpg" height="452" width="640" /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above pictures depict India's crying shame. I must stress this disturbing subject is not unique to India and is reported from many other countries. To those of a delicate disposition I ask not to search Google on this topic, as the content is so abhorrent it is likely to traumatize even the hardiest of men.<br />
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These vile acts, often but not always perpetrated against young women, leave me in despair. I simply can't fathom what drives people to such action: to pay for perceived honour with the blood of their own family.<br />
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<br />
What honour is there among those callous and ignorant barbarians, that makes them kill?<br />
<br />
What honour is there among cold-blooded sadistic criminals who have no sympathy or empathy toward their own flesh and blood?<br />
<br />
What possible and justifiable honour can there be among those who carry out such vile acts? If they have 'honour' then that word has been hijacked by sick-minded and deluded people.<br />
<br />
According to statistics these assassinations are on the increase, or at least as I suspect and hope, an increase in reporting the cases.<br />
<br />
The saddest aspect of honour killings is the apparent lack of interest in the part of the authorities of such countries to combat this sickness.<br />
<br />
Will the Internet bring education to the remote corners of the world where most of these executions take place? And will it help educate those who commit this most foul of murders?<br />
<br />
I certainly hope so.<br />
<br />
I can't wait, and neither can all the hapless future victims of this heinous and inhuman 'human value'.<br />
<br />
:(</div>
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Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-66913251305567966242014-06-05T04:38:00.000-07:002014-06-05T04:38:36.882-07:00Fragmented World: And I'm Not Referring To Plate Tectonics<br />
Mass immigration from poorer countries to Europe continues to make daily headlines and to bolster membership of the far-right parties of our continent.<br />
<br />
It saddens me to think that those poor migrants risk their lives, day in day out, just to reach our shores and the promise of a better life.<br />
<br />
From trying to hitch rides in or even under heavy-goods vehicles on the Ceuta-Spain ferry crossing, to attempting to cross the Mediterranean Sea in makeshift dinghies, the human tide of despair continues to pound the coast of Southern Europe.<br />
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"I have no choice" replied a sub-Saharan young man when asked why he risked his life to get to Europe.<br />
<br />
Another man said " If I fail tonight I'll try again and again. I'd rather die trying than go back home and wait for death"<br />
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</div>
<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5000892193344053581" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5000892193344053581" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>It would be good if the whole world took action to help the central African countries that are in disarray, plagued by war, famine and poverty. I know corruption in those states makes it almost impossible to get aid to the needy, but ignoring the problem is not going to make it go away. The West can only stem the tide of African migration by helping those same countries to prosper and to offer their populations a way out of abject poverty.<br />
<br />
A way to help would be to offer more lucrative incentives to European and multi-national companies to set up businesses and production in Africa, as China has started doing recently, albeit for ulterior motives, but that's another story.<br />
<br />
Another way would be to provide more direct aid for education and health. Healthy and educated populations are much less likely to be enslaved by harmful religion and much more likely to embrace democracy and justice.<br />
<br />
Poverty really is the root of all evil.<br />
<br />
And the only winners are the far-right parties whose inadequate and unsympathetic answer is to build more walls, more segregation and more inequality. Same old rhetoric.<br />
<br />
Extremists of all persuasions, especially those on the far-right, have a knack of never learning from history. For if they did, they'd see the futility of their ideology.<br />
<br />
I'd like to ask a neo-Nazi what is the appeal of worshiping someone such as Hitler. A leader who ruled by fear, murdered with impunity and became one of history's biggest losers. He not only lost a war, a country and his wife, but even managed to lose his own life!<br />
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Almost the same question I often ask God followers.<br />
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:)<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-29176278283848714082014-05-24T08:16:00.002-07:002014-05-24T10:35:32.674-07:00When She's Your Juliette But You're Not Her RomeoSolitude is therapeutic.<br />
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I have had the benefit of solitude's mind-healing remedy over the last three years.<br />
<br />
It was a state of mind I had never experienced before. For one reason or another, all my adult life had, until recently, been shared with an intimate partner. Memories I cherish, still vivid in the recesses of my mind, kept alive by increasingly frequent trips to nostalgia-inducing past events.<br />
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Oftentimes the seclusion and detachment reaffirms my belief that personal freedom is indeed my most precious commodity, and of incalculable value. But sometimes, especially when the "party" is over and we all go our separate ways, I am overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness and isolation.<br />
<br />
It is during those thankfully-infrequent spells that I find my mind wandering through vast expanses of wasteland, where the deafening cacophony of silence sends me crashing into solitary confinement.<br />
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Such as last night.<br />
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Hours in the presence of beauty, when fun and laughter overflowed and my admiration for a love I can not have, increased tenfold.<br />
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The sublimely adorable person I have secretly fallen in love with over the last year, continues to evade me in a way I know to be inevitable, but Yet, I stubbornly refuse to banish from my thoughts.<br />
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I can touch her fragrant and gentle hand, but not her heart.<br />
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The reality of her not being available, brought me crashing down to earth, again, flailing in protest at life's harsh injustice.<br />
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I will have to redirect my attentions, to find someone who is as free as I am and wants to be found, as I do.<br />
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Until then, the anguish of unrequited love will continue to cause havoc in my otherwise peaceful existence.<br />
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How I would love to steer my passion with reason, as I do all other aspects of life! To desist from pointless and fruitless pursuits.<br />
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Where in the dark recesses of ones mind, does the indulgence of procuring and persevering with destructive self-chosen pain stem from?<br />
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Is mental masochism a by-product of empathy and social evolution?<br />
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If, as I suspect, it is, what possible benefit can an emotional parasite be to us, mere fragile hosts and willing carriers of such burdens?<br />
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Intimate love is, after all, nothing more than friendship with the added bonus of meeting man's undying physiological need to send forth his DNA!<br />
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Or is it?<br />
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And who am I kidding?<br />
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Intimate love may just be much more important to me than that, and sadly, much more than the mere basic mechanics such a union brings.<br />
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When I think of her, which is usually once a day but never stops, I know it is much more than a matter of life and death.<br />
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Much much more.<br />
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:(<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-61766283642284819402014-04-18T06:03:00.000-07:002014-04-18T11:46:21.558-07:00Defending The Indefensible<br />
I follow with great interest fellow blogger and ex-Muslim, Narwa, author of "between a veil and a dark place" and, since her blog doesn't accept comments, I feel the need to reply to her latest post "The racism of the white wolf who cried Islamophobia".<br />
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Narwa is a brave young woman with the necessary literary atributes to write about her early life experiences in the Lebanon, in an honest and poignant way, and hence my interest.<br />
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A brave woman indeed, considering the inevitable backlash and retribution the evil mullahs dish out to all who dare turn against Islam. Needless to say, it wouldn't be advisable for Narwa to ever set foot again in her home land or any other country shackled to Islam. It wouldn't be safe.<br />
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What I find ironic but somehow disconcertingly understandable, is that Narwa still feels the need to defend Islam against Islamophobia.<br />
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In my view, everyone should condemn all injustice, and there are no greater injustices than those endorsed by religions.<br />
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I was born into the Christian culture but feel no need whatsoever to protect it. I am vehemently opposed to all world religions.<br />
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Narwa displays that all too common misconception of "only I or those who belong can criticise what's ours". If anyone other than an ex Muslim criticises Islam, Narwa labels it Islamophobia.<br />
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Incorrectly.<br />
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Islamophobia is growing, as are the numbers of people around the world leaving their religions and denouncing archaic indoctrination. And that can only be perceived as good news for humanity.<br />
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We all know what is fuelling Islamophobia. We all know it is the acts of aggression of some Muslim fundamentalists who are alienating their people from the rest of the world.<br />
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We all know that not all Muslims are terrorists but almost all terrorists are Muslim.<br />
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We all know that cultures who endorse and live in "An eye for an eye" culture, are relics of the dark ages of humanity and such ways should have long been consigned to the dustbin of history.<br />
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As Gandhi once said and I quote; "An eye for an eye makes the world go blind"<br />
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We all know what is fuelling Islamophobia and it's not the "racist white wolf" who is merely taking advantage of the present anti-Islam wave to justify its prejudice.<br />
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Islamophobia is growing daily due to the increasing abundance of news through the internet's social media depicting Islam as being synonymous with; Misogyny, Intolerance, Aggression, Homophobia, Female Genital Mutilation, Child Marriage, Child Abuse, Slavery and, the most dangerous of all, Sharia Law.<br />
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Narwa, it is absurd for you to consider Richard Dawkins as a racist white wolf. He has as much right to speak against the indefensible as you have.<br />
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Narwa, I urge you to continue the fight against theism - but don't waste time fighting the minor imperfections of your true allies.<br />
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And, lastly, don't let your innate anger "alienate" you from the debate.<br />
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:)<br />
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<br />Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5000892193344053581.post-16751402850801953212014-04-13T14:09:00.001-07:002014-04-17T08:14:14.548-07:00Empathy is 'Blurring The Line Between Self And Other'After a hard day's work and a rush through the friday night traffic I got home around 7pm. By 8:30 I was on my way to Basingstoke for a weekend of socialising with friends and stopped at a Shell station for fuel. When attempting to pay I inserted my debit card in the reader and it was promptly declined. I insisted there were ample funds in the account and suggested the teller tried inserting the card a second time. Declined again.<br />
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I asked directions to the nearest cash point and was told of a location 10 minutes walk away. Walk because I was told in no uncertain terms to leave the car at the station.<br />
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To say I was annoyed is an understatement. The inconvenience and delay I faced when I was sure it was the station's card reader at fault made it that much more irritating.<br />
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As I went to the car to get my jacket a young chap ran out of the shop and called me over. He offered to pay my bill and told me I could transfer the money later.<br />
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"But it's a fair amount of money, £42" I replied.<br />
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He said "that's Ok, no trouble" .<br />
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As we walked back into the shop I gave him my iphone to enter his phone number. We exchanged numbers and he paid my bill. I offered to transfer the money there and then but he said he was running late and on his way to meet his girfriend in Farnham.<br />
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James, a person I had never met before was trusting me to the point of incredulity. Despite my insistence he gave me a few minutes to transfer the money he again reitterated how late he was and that I could do that later.<br />
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We went our separate ways and I felt humbled and at peace with the world. The selfless act of a total stranger had turned an annoying incident into a pleasent one.<br />
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Later that evening, after telling my friends about James' act of kindness, I texted him, thanking him again for his kindness and asked for his bank details.<br />
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To my surprise James didn't reply until next morning. This is what he wrote:<br />
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"Morning Joe, not a problem at all, doesn't hurt to be human, just hope you got to where you needed to be. (account details) Have a lovely weekend buddy..."<br />
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I transferred the money and sent him a message of gratitude, to which he replied:<br />
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"thank you Joe, really appreciate that mate, couldn't just leave you stranded. Hope you have a good weekend mate, take care"<br />
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I had a wonderful weekend, thanks to James generosity. The prospect of walking through dark alleys in a strange neighbourhood at night in West London to an unknown cashpoint wasn't my idea of a good night out.<br />
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James, a stranger who offered to pay my bill so as not leave me stranded, has reinforced my belief in humanity. Kindness really is all around us.<br />
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Thank you James, once again, for being kind, generous, and most importantly, for demonstrating the special human quality I admire the most.<br />
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Empathy.<br />
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:)Joe Pereirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09353399105160153877noreply@blogger.com13