It's literal AND figurative!
After tourism-ing pre-Angouleme for the past 2 years, I'd hoped to tourism after the show this year, as the weather would be nicer. Especially as I have so much vacation time to use up, I would be away for 3 weeks. But that was not to be, and once again I did the bulk of my tourism before the festival.
My journey began with a sad farewell to my dog Aggie at my folks' house and a chilly bus ride from NH to Boston. The highway cuts through some cliffs which form beautiful ice waterfalls (as the snow melts and freezes down the cliff face).
At the airport, I mused sadly in the big blank space you see. I always get very depressed when I travel. I will miss those close to me, and sitting in the terminal, I think of ways to cancel my trip or cut it short. But then when I land at my destination, I am transformed and excited to be there. Wheeeee!
I proceeded to Lisbon via Zurich, encountering some extreme examples of manhood: the annoying man in front of me on the plane who was demanding more space and a better seat from the flight attendants (there were none to be had) and the tiny, slim, excessively pretty, scruffy counter boy at the Zurich airport.
My comics friend Roberto met me in Lisbon (where he attended university) and showed me around. I was a little appalled by the "traditional" Portuguese dish of a hamburger floating in some goo with the consistency of sour cream. The church bells lost their charm as I was exhaustedly falling alseep. Fear not, their charm returned.