Portugal
In late fall of 2006, six members of the band Powerhouse, two additional musicians (to replace the members of Powerhouse that couldn’t make it), three lady singers, a Ray Charles tribute artist, a promoter, his wife and a tour manager, took a two-week musical tour through Portugal and the Azores Islands. For me, as one of the fifteen-member show, this was a tour of a lifetime. I took nearly 500 pictures on my new digital camera, bought specifically for this trip. The following pages are the best of those and the story of an extremely memorable tour, holiday and country.
The Singers
Sharon Musgrave, Heather Cadogan, Dawn Gibbs and Frank Rondell as Ray Charles.
To the far right, the promoter, Carlos Santos and his wife Sandra
The Band
Back row: Michael Stevenson on piano, Paul Augustyn on tenor & alto sax, Yours Truly on trombone and synthesizer, John Willett on trumpet and Phil Kott on guitar.
Front row: Pete Grimmer on percussion (don't let the trumpet fool you), Carlo DiBattista on trumpet, and Greg Smith on bass.
And pictured, in the middle of Pete and Sharon, our tour manager, Sebastiao Salgueiro -- or 'Sabby', as we came to know him.
We left Pearson Airport in Toronto, Canada in the early evening, and with the time difference, we managed to arrive at our destination of Lisbon, Portugal just as the sun was coming up over the European continent.
Once we cleared customs, we met with Carlos, Sandra, Sabby and their three tour vans. We had two, 9-person, Mercedes passenger vans and a something-or-the-other tiny truck with a big enclosed box on the back for the equipment and luggage. These would be our travel homes for the next 2 weeks. We left Lisbon immediately on the first leg of the tour -- up the Portuguese coast to the city of Porto. The tree on the right may not mean much to those from more equatorial climates, but to a chilled Canadian fresh off the plane, standing beside something normally found in miniature, topping a mixed drink, was quite impressive.
The band arrived in Porto, a northern Portuguese port town in the early afternoon. After checking in the hotel (pictured, right) and getting the rooms, everyone headed out the front door to go see the city before the sun set. Even after a 6-hour flight, 2 hours in Lisbon airport and a 3-hour drive up to Porto, energies were high as we headed out the front door and scattered to go see the city. Within about 8 or 10 blocks there was just Paul with me as we headed down the hill, toward the river. He'd read ahead that there was an artsy area down there that he wanted to see.
The first thing I noticed was that every road in the city was covered in interlocking stone and ceramic patterned tiles. Only old Quebec City in Canada has anything that even remotely, compares.
The ceramic murals that covered the surfaces of many of the buildings and roadways in the city were often quite spectacular.
The Hotel Sao Jose
Santo Ildefonso Church
The setting of this church was gorgeous, overlooking a central square formed by the joining of 3 or 4 streets. I had to stop a moment at one of the local vendors in the square and have a bite to eat.
Beautiful ancient stone architecture everywhere. You could 'feel' the history of the city as you walked.
Paul and I made it to the river, with the Ponte Dom Luís in the background.
Unfortunately, it was a long way back up the hill, to the hotel, some rest and the end to what had been a very long and eventful day.
The next day, I saw a bit more of the city, but today was mostly about our first gig.
Porto Coliseum -- viewed from stage
The stage during soundcheck
Our third day was a travel day, as we made our way back to the south, through Lisbon, to the ocean resort town of Estoril. Our tour manager, Sabby, who was quickly becoming a good friend, decided to take us south on a secondary highway where the scenery was a little nicer. He sure was right about that. We followed the river to the ocean, then headed south with the coastal mountains on our right.
The many bridges across the river outside of Porto.
Sandra, Carlo and the equipment van leading the way, today.
... such a beautiful country, really -- white stuccoed homes (many closer to small castles, actually) and red-tiled roofs nestled throughout gently rolling hills. Sometimes the coastal mountains would be far off in the distance, sometimes our morning drive took us right through the middle of them.
We arrived in Estoril, the Atlantic shore resort town, with still the whole late afternoon and evening left in the day. As seemed to be the way of things, we went straight to the hotel (another 'beaut'), unloaded the trucks, checked into our rooms, met for our time schedules, then
headed out the front door and scattered. This looked like quite an amazing place to explore. The Atlantic Ocean was about 200 metres (yards) away. I met Pete, Sharon and Dawn on the way out the door, so it was with them, I headed toward the water.
The casino was right next door (the largest one in Europe, by the way). so we checked out the grounds before we headed to the beach area. Oddly, I managed to snap a picture (to the left) that looks remarkably similar to a Beatles album cover.
To the right, we have 'yours truly' taking a breather while still visibly showing signs of jet lag, sensory overload and other such things.
49 years after my first keyboard lesson and 43 years after picking up a trombone, I was finally playing them on the 'other side of the pond'.
I don't know which was more remarkable -- me figuring out the zoom function on my new digital camera or the stone work on the buildings in this area. Above is the building (home?, castle?) by the beach where we first saw the Atlantic.
Sharon and Pete decided not to go out farther on the pier once they saw the local fisherman get swamped with a wave.
Up one side of the coast and down the other. The far shore in the picture, above left, is Cascais, where I would walk to and spend most of the next day.
To the left: A spectacular scene of the sun setting over what will be, tomorrow's destination -- the city of Cascais.
Along the shore, looking to the south.
Again, cameras were a 'no-no' inside the casino, so all I have is the front entrance on the way in.
Above: Pete and Sharon (our couple on the tour)
To the right: Dawn at dusk, on the beach.
Today, I headed out on my own from the hotel (the no. 7 on the map), along the beach to the left toward Cascais. I ran into John halfway there and we continued on together, as far as the Citadel (just below no. 5), around the edge of the marina, following the shore (past the no. 19), through the park to the left of that, back through the town (no. 21) and finally back to the shore (at no. 5), then back to Estoril. We had our gig to play that night, so we needed to be back by early evening.
Mont Estoril was more like a large hill to walk up, but it gave some great pics back along the shore toward Estoril.
"Heyy, John" ... amazing who you meet, walking along a beach in Cascais, Portugal at the end of October.
Everyone's camera got a major work-out on this trip.
Once we reached Cascais, the fully-sculpted stone walkway along the water ended, replaced by the more natural seashore of sand and rock outcroppings. Some of the buildings and scenery along this shore of Portugal were amazing, with every bit of land accounted for -- no vast, open spaces like I'm used to as a Canadian.
Every bit of sidewalk and roadway was covered in ornate patterns of stone and tile. I'll admit, I've never really seen anything like it before.
A statue of somebody famous -- actually, two famous people, as Johnny was playing his music in Portugal tonight.
The Citadel -- I found dates, embedded in the rock, going back 1000 years. It made my North American two to three hundred-year history seem rather small.
Believe it or not, this was someone's home.
As was that --------->
More gorgeous Atlantic Ocean shoreline and a reminder (to the left, far off in the distance) that Portugal has always been a seafaring country.
We turned the corner, through a stone gate, and walked into the middle of a huge, gorgeous park in the middle of town.
The vegetation was lush. A fella could almost get lost in it.
This park was immaculate, and the home to many animals and birds. The town of Cascais took great care with their park.
All the streets were narrow (some, ridiculously so) and covered in ornate tile and colourful cobblestones. I saw cars driving here, so I know it is possible, but as I look back on it now, I wonder how they did it. Occasionally too, we'd pass someone with a definite backyard weed problem.
A close-up of the stonework on the side of someone's home. These tiled murals were everywhere in Portugal (from what I'd seen so far).
All that remained was the long walk back along the beach, back to Estoril, and to get ready for tonight's gig in the Casino. Shoes in hand, the lukewarm ocean felt good on my tired feet. There was a pretty good chance that I could be a little tired at tonight's gig.
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