Today, March 20th marks the beginning of Spring, which means we are that much closer to summer. After a long and dreadful winter (at least in Ontario) it is easy to start day-dreaming about those hot summer days, where the days are long and the nights are warm. However, when we think of summer our next thought may be traveling, which in most cases involves flying inside an aircraft at 30,000 ft. Whether you like to fly or not, most will agree that there is something majestic about watching an airplane soar through the air.

Just for a moment forget about expensive plane tickets and long waits at security and think about all of the principles  and hard work behind the art of flight; think about all of the countless hours of engineering and research put into each plane and the preparation required prior to each flight to ensure everyone on board has a pleasant experience. The plane hasn't taken off yet and I'm already in awe.

I don't drink and never have. Ever, really. And most people get surprised, curious and even shocked: a Portuguese guy, musician (!) that doesn't drink? Unreal. For them, it's a mysterious, eccentric and almost asocial behaviour. It's kind of cool, in some sort of alien way: "How can he endure life without the pleasure of a glass of wine?", they wonder. 

Many people expect from me for a strong justification when I announce I don't drink. They come up with all sorts of theories: maybe religion issues, maybe my drunk parents would beat me up in childhood or, my personal favourite, I'm an AA and erasing my  heavy drinker past is part of my therapy. They usually get very disappointed when I can't come up with a really good story. 

There isn't a good story behind my choice. I grew up getting used to the fact that drinking is a part of your path into social coolness, boosting your peer-success and filling up the book of memories with alcohol related episodes - most of them, decadent, humiliating and, to my eyes, deeply sad. Sometimes, to add some drama, I say I promised to my late grandmother, in her death bed, that I would never drink. They fall for it and I always get that tender-eyed-sided-head puppy-lover "ooohhhhh" reply. *Sigh*

Two car accident in Paris
On September 8, 1932, a taxi crashes in the busy Parisian streets and one of its occupants violently hits his head. Apparently recovered at first, his communication and expression abilities quickly deteriorated, to the point that five years later his doctors thought he had developed a brain tumour and decided to perform brain surgery. The intervention revealed a collapsed left brain hemisphere, promptly filled up with serum. Nevertheless, entering deep coma, the patient would die nine days later, aged 62. Mankind had just lost one of its most emblematic creators: Maurice Ravel, renowned French composer, major figure of 20th century music.

For some minutes The Guardian's website today had two side-by-side mentions to Portuguese related events, deserving highlight space in its homepage: the gaint Nazaré waves surfer by McNamara and the exquisite goal by mid-fielder Ricardo Fernandes.

The highlights are not about state-of-the-art achievements nor world acclaimed contributions in science or arts. But they aren't about the economical crisis, political issues or corruption - ups, pleonasm-o-meter reaching red, sorry for that.

This week I turned 35 - a round number, dangerously making me approach what shall be middle point of my life-expectancy. A reflection on friendship, football and the waste of early death: Aaron Swartz's tragedy.

Among the several presents I got the past days, one had a special bitter-sweet taste: some photos of my old football team, from when I was 17 or 18. There I am, showing all the pride and shine of my late teenage years - which imply, naturally, less kilos (and less charm!).
Playing football is one of the things I love the most - for sure one of the very few things I'll gladly go out for in a cold, rainy morning. But this period in which I played federate football, was most of all a singular experience on the human level. There, I had the opportunity to better understand the meaning of team work, passionate dedication, generosity and other (lets call them) values.

There are moments in our day to day that are better described with a simple picture, a second in time where no words can express the power of what we are witnessing. Whether the picture is being taken in space or in your neighbourhood, the best pictures are those that don't need a caption.

I consider myself lucky for having moved to Toronto and be able to grow up in one of the most multicultural cities in the world. Just like everywhere else in the world it has its ups and downs, but the capital of Ontario provides a healthy mixture of North-American culture with the remaining cultures of the world. If you look closely at the city map you can find just about a little-anything, as half-of Toronto's population of 2.6 million were born outside of Canada. There is something electrifying about this city, from its lively street corners and gypsy-like markets of Kensington to sky scrapers and old-fashioned trams. As a result, there have been numerous occasions where I wished had the camera ready; I guess I was simply enjoying the moment and saving it in my mental camera roll.

Some months ago my attention was drawn to a post in the BBC News:  for the first time would be exhibited in New Delhi a rare book from a 16th-century Italian traveller, Ludovico di Varthema, who compiled adventures and observations in his Itinerario de Ludovico de Varthema Bolognese. According to the BBC post, this was the "first 'travel best-seller' on India, translated to more than 50 languages", enriched with "detailed drawings" which were an essential part of its success.

On September 7th, 1979 British group The Buggles released their debut single entitled "Video Killed the Radio Star". The hit single was a nostalgic account of a singer's  career cut short by the rise of television as a main stream medium. Over half a century later, television broadcasters are beginning to realize that their dominance may have their days counted. 
However, this trend is also visible in the photography markets, where at the turn of the millennium almost everyone had a point-and-shoot camera but within the last 10 years its market share has begun to quickly fall, where traditional camera usage dropped 12% over 2011.

Besides water, tulips or cheese related subjects, Dutch are known for being culturally tolerant, liberal and wise managers of urban space. If the first two don't necessarily apply to the country as a whole (no more housing permit for you next year, pal!), they certainly fit Amsterdam and its inhabitants - hitherto generalising, and, as a friend wisely said "In general I don't like generalisations!".

Cosmopolitan and crowded (for Dutch standards), Amsterdam uniquely blends the advantages of a little village and a modern city. Nevertheless, it's intrinsic housing problems raise a lot of issues - namely if you have children. Most Dutch cultivate their families' independence from family, which, added the fact that relatives usually live far away - more than 20 minutes biking -, leaving your kids with granny is out of the question. So, a kinderdagverblijf is mandatory: literally a child-day-stay.