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The spirit of Columbus is in the air at Lisbon airport as we board the plane to the unknown…except we’re not boarding since Carine and Shadé are nowhere to be found at the baggage check. I ran all over the airport to finally find them trying on headbands in a boutique downstairs… “The pink one or the blue one?” asks Shadé to her mum who is completely naive to her reveries’ impact on the expedition. She sees me arriving flailing like a psychopath. “What is wrong with you? You seem pretty stressed.” Forgetting about the Dalai Lama’s precepts of Anger being the real destroyer of our good human qualities, I am transforming into a Donald Trump, red with anger, to inform them about the emergency, with a minimalistic vocabulary dear to Donald.
