Greg went off to look at the monastery in Lisbon. Unfortunately it was closed on Monday. Pressing on, with their Spanish adventure, Greg and Wyona walked along a deserted street in Lisbon and she was pick-pocketed. She said she thought it odd when 3 women in their early 30’s were intently studying maps of the city, looking up, not seeing where they were going and pushed her into a car. She felt a slap on her thigh, as she recovered from the stumble and thought no more about it until someone else came up to her, returned to her a disposable red raincoat and her multi-zippered fat clutch purse of medication and said that these had fallen out of her pocket. She says that she couldn’t identify the thieves, that they appeared and then disappeared into the street all within seconds. Her cash had been laid flat and was in another pocket that is always turned to the side of her body. So no harm done there, other than the indignity of being targeted.
We all watched the performance of a hypnotist after dinner tonight. Wyona taunted me. “Do it, Arta. Just go up there.” And she added, “On the next cruise we will both go up there.” Mmm. I don’t think so. I can make a fool of myself without being hypnotized.
At one point, the subjects who had given control of their subconscious to the hypnotist were out in the audience, believing they were chimpanzees and checking subjects for lice and nits. Greg was one of those checked. Greg was good-natured about the incident and was happy that at least he wasn’t chosen by one of the now “new chimps” as a love partner. The isle seats are not always the preferred seats.
The three of us stopped to get our pictures taken after dinner. “Put your arms around the man,” I was instructed. “I don’t think this is going to be a very good picture, because he is her husband not mine and I don’t think any of our children are going to understand,” I said pointing at Wyona. Hard to get from the theatre back to our room without having an adventure.