Lisbon Holidays

 

LISBON HOLIDAYS

It is not easy to me to write about these memories in any chronological order. In fact, at my age it is not easy to remember most of what happened so many years ago. So, I hope you will forgive me if I jump now to when I was 15.

Although an only child, I was ..... blessed ... with many cousins. Most lived here in Gibraltar, but my mother’s sister, Sarah (incidentally the first woman pharmacist in Gibraltar) met and married Samuel Pariente, a Gibraltarian who had moved to Lisbon in the early 1930s to find better career prospects. By then, through intelligence, hard work and an amazing “simpatia”, Tito Samuel had risen to National Managing Director for the Portuguese branch of the film production company 20th Century Fox.

They had two sons, David the eldest, and Meni (Menahem) who is about a year older than I. They would visit Gibraltar every summer and Meni would stay with us at home. We were close in a very safe way since while we, the local cousins, alternated between Friendship and open Warfare, with Meni coming for about a month in the year, there was no time to argue. It was always good fun and great times.

It was Meni’s “trade mark” to bring a gift for his cousins. These were rings made out of horseshoe nails. I know, I know, sounds silly today, but all us cousins would look forward to wearing that ring of his friendship, and I, being his host so to speak, was always given the first one! By the time the Parientes left at the end of the holiday, the ring had obviously rusted and it was a case of removing the ring or removing finger!

And of course, I was invited to Lisbon for my holidays. Visiting the capital of Portugal in 1960 was an eye opener for me in every way. Why do I write about this? Because there was one particular pastime Meni and I enjoyed that sticks to my mind and was definitely the high point of my 15th year ….. if not the 16th and even 17th too!

Meni and I would often visit his father in his sumptuous Lisbon office and we actually had free rein in these offices. They had their own mini cinema salon and films were previewed for the censors, all rather sombre men, full of their own importance, to grade before being distributed to cinemas in all the country for the public to enjoy. Unlike today, films were graded in one of three categories.
"U" - universal viewing in other words any age could you see those films.
 "A" - adult viewing where cinema goers had to be over 18 (or was it over 21 in those days?) to see them.
And finally, the dreaded "X" certificates films which were horror or sexy films not suitable for tender eyes!
I remember seeing a Spanish film in black and white….. and very black it was too. Death comes to a man and says it's time to go. But the man challenges him to a game of chess.

"If I win" said the man, " you take someone else and let me live."

"And if you lose?"

"If I lose you take me with you and I will not argue"

"People are so silly" replied Death, "I do not need to play. All I need is to touch you with my scythe and you are mine!"

" Is it that Death is afraid of losing?" asked the desperate man.

" I will play with you only at night and on one condition" said Death. "we shall set my hourglass next to the chessboard and when the sands are spent, win, lose or even if the game is unfinished, you have to come with me for I have other calls to make. I cannot be late for them"

Being 15 years old in 1960 was a far cry from 15-year olds today!
I had yet to be allowed into an "A" film, let alone an "X" .... and this definitely was a very X X X film. Howling winds, dark clouds racing across the sky, moonlit nights and Death himself dressed in the most extravagant black silk cloak and hood so his face was never fully seen under it and its shadow.

As the game progresses night after night the man sees that he is losing. Death knows everything about Life, obviously, and that includes chess too. At one point, as the man stares at the chessboard trying to find a way out of his losing game, he cheats and moves the bishop and the rook into different squares making the game a winner for himself. But Death is not to be cheated. That night when he comes back to play he looks at the chessboard and with the most fearsome look in his eyes (lighting and thunder accompanying that look, as well as crying violins, cellos and me peeking between my fingers) the pieces move back to their original positions!
Death just looks at his victim with the most ferocious eyes, envelops him with his cloak and the scythe moves to his neck....
THE END!

It was the spookiest film I had ever, ever seen. Definitely "cagalera class"
... and in Spanish! Whatever you may say about Spain and the Spanish they do have a flair for melodrama.

But not all films were so bad .... or good... or whatever.

On another occasion Meni and I went to see a film by Mario Moreno "Cantinflas". He was a very popular Mexican comedian at the time and we certainly enjoyed that film. The only problem was that all films came with Portuguese subtitles which always lagged behind the spoken script by two or three seconds. Invariably Meni and I would burst out laughing at the many jokes those two or three seconds before the censors and they would get really annoyed that we were interrupting their viewing.

Ah, but Meni was Senhor Pariente's son (I was just the rascal nephew!) so we were never really told off or thrown out of the saloon.

In fact, the film that I most remember watching was by that icon of feminine beauty at the time, and for quite a few years after that, Brigitte Bardot!
 The film was obviously in French, the English title was: "And God Created WOMAN!" and again it had Portuguese subtitles. In this case the two- or three-seconds lag between the spoken and written words were put to excellent use in my very first view of a totally naked woman ... and what a woman she was too!

The censors did not complain about us being there, but my Aunt gave us a tongue lashing that remains fresh in my mind to this day. Also at the back of my mind is the hidden smile of Tito Samuel (which he was wise enough not to let his wife see) at the hutzpah me, his visiting nephew, had shown by taking such a cheeky liberty ..... which again by today's standards pale to insignificance. I was always grateful to Tita Sarah for not telling my own parents about this ..... or perhaps she did?  But perhaps thought that that most severe bollocking by Tita Sara  was judged to have enough punishment?
(Between you and I …. IT WAS WELL WORTH THE BOLLOCKING!)