Postcard from Porto

“That makes sense. OF COURSE it is.”

A couple of days ago I landed in Porto, where I’d be staying for two nights: part work, part pleasure. I’d been invited to do a bookshop event at Rosebud, the city’s only English-language bookstore, alongside my dear friend Abigail Bergstrom. She was going to be talking about her second novel Selfish Girls (a Waterstones pick of the month in Wales!) and I would be talking about my new book A Creative Compass, all about carving out a joyful creative life.

Side-note: a while ago, I made a pact with myself that I would only agree to travel for promotional book events if I could also find a way to turn the trip into something chill and fun for me too. I do love doing events, but they do require an element of being ‘on’ in a way that I feel out of practice sometimes—so if I can balance prepping for a work event with something fancy-free alongside it (maybe even including ice-cream), it makes the whole thing a win-win situation.

Usually, I picture flying to another European country from the UK as being a really easy thing. You fling some knickers in a tote bag and off you go. I had hand luggage only, and I thought: easy peasy. I’ll fly in the same day of the event, have a couple of hours beforehand (to drink cool drinks with Abbie somewhere) and then we’ll hot-foot it to the bookshop.

What ensued was full Mercury in Retrograde vibes.