Visa in Hand.

Position: At anchor, Cascaix
Wind: North, calm to light
Weather: overcast, clearing, warm

I got my visa for Brazil this morning. Hooray! Now the next problem to sort
out is the replacement credit card. I called the credit union back in Oz
last night so that is in progress as well. It will take a couple of weeks
which will mean further delays to my southern schedule but such is life.

My new friend, the ex-pat. Australian pilot, David, took me for a drive
around the mountains behind Lisbon yesterday afternoon and then out to
lunch, a very pleasant and relaxing afternoon which did a lot to take my
mind off these small worries. David pointed out how the countryside in the
hills reminded him a lot of Australia. Largely because the native trees
which had been mostly cut down centuries ago have been replaced with
eucalypts from Australia. Also some of the rock formations, big round
boulders sticking out beside the roadside here and there were indeed
reminiscent of certain patches of Australian bush-scape.

After a great lunch at a swish restaurant overlooking a beach next to the
Prime Minister's palace, an ex-fort, David dropped me back at Cascais by
means of a short boat trip aboard his 52 foot motor yacht. It was very nice
to experience a little luxury for the day. Thank you David.

This morning I collected my visa at the Brazilian consulate, then returned
to the boat for an afternoon siesta as I had been up late last night calling
Australia to sort out my credit card and then up relatively early to get to
the consulate.

I have just been a shore to the supermarket to top up some supplies and if
all goes well we will get underway tomorrow sometime - when we have a
breeze.

All is well.

Bob Cat:

I tell you what, the food just drives me nuts and I tell you also that I let
old Mr. skipper Bob know about it, the thick skinned so and so. I did score
something a little different today, not sure what it was exactly but
certainly a lot tastier than the usual hard tack, so maybe my strategy is
working. I have become quite good at extracting the juicier morsels and
leaving the inedible bits in the bowl or better still on the floor beside
the bowl. It's a risky business, my food protest movement, no sign of the
riot squad yet, hopefully skipper Bob will relent and feed me something more
appetizing first. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Speaking of
time, time for a well earned . . . Zzzzzzz.