Trip to Lisbon

A quiet chessboard reminiscent of the postures the mind makes when it travels with Pessoa. It spends hours looking for books in Bertrand, reads them while having a coffee in “Brasileira” and ponders them on the tram. Gazing at the sweet dusk on the hillside of Castelo, ending the day with a meal at the same table every time at ‘Terreiro do Paço”, with some “yellow air” in its pocket. Lisbon’s air “is a hidden yellow, a kind of pale yellow seen through dirty white. There is scarcely any yellow in the grey air. But the paleness of the grey has a yellow in its sadness”, according to “The Book of Disquiet” and “Bernardo Soares”, an alias of sorts for Pessoa himself.