The plural of octopus is not and never has been octopi

Yesterday I basked in evening sun and suspension bridges; tonight I'm basking in my dinner. I found the perfect restaurant. It's a little hole in the wall. It's not really in the middle of nowhere because it's pretty close to the city center, but it's on a dark, otherwise residential street and marked only by a string of Christmas lights and a handwritten sign in the window.

I ordered octopus. I really like seafood, but I'm so picky about it that I often don't bother ordering it. But this was really, really good. Eat until it hurts good. And they brought me cheese just like my food friend said they would, and it was really really good too. And the waiter/cook/owner didn't argue when I told him I speak Spanish. And I had bread, cheese, octopus, water, too much wine, and coffee all for 10.95€. I do like Portugal.

Before dinner, I did touristy stuff. Two art museums, one modern and one a collector's collection (Calouste Gulbenkian, sounds like Guggenheim, right?). Señor Gulbenkian must have really liked René Lalique, because he had a whole room full of his stuff. Some glasswork and mostly jewelry. Really nice jewelry. I also really like René Lalique.

The contemporary art museum had this great installation made out of books. Imagine an open square made of stacks of books, maybe five feet wide and about ten feet high, with openings on two sides so you can walk through. Inside, the ceiling and the floor are mirrored, except for a thin mat that you walk across. Not sure if the description works, but the effect is you feel like you're walking across this bridge with nothing underneath, the books just go up and down forever. There was a sign discouraging people who fear heights from entering--I'm not sure it was that realistic, but it was a little disconcerting.