Sidónio Bernardino Cardoso da Silva Pais

Not too exciting, I know, but I haven't had much of a chance to get any decent outdoors photos. You see, it may seem like I have the life of the leisured jet-set class, jetting off to Lisbon and Madrid at the drop of a hat, or just jumping into my car and going down to Bute or up to the Highlands castle hunting. To a large extent, you are right: I have a great life, and I'm the first one to admit it. However, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have no rich relatives about to bequeath me their mansion in Surrey, and I don't play the lottery. Like most people, therefore, I have to work for my keep. Today I had to work (and successfully ignore a request from some Dutch radio station for an 'expert' interview on Portuguese politics - see here to understand why I ignored it). So, I hear you ask, just what is it that I do to put food on the table, RAM in my PC and ink in my printer (no question mark... it's a rhetorical question). I read, then I write. Just now I am reading about Sidónio Pais, who was Portugal's president from 5 December 1917 to 14 December 1918. He came to power by way of a military coup, and was deposed by the lead in an assassin's pistol at Rossio Station. I am writing a book about him and his short-lived regime, the populist and proto-fascist New Republic. At least now you know what he looked like, and I'll bet that you're delighted at that! Apparently Portuguese womanhood went weak at the knees for President Sidónio in his smart major's uniform whilst astride his white horse (yes, he had a white horse). Mind you, apparently Portuguese (and at least one French) women turned to mush in the presence of Salazar (I'll need to put a picture of Salazar up now, won't I?!). Go figure. Anyway, I have work to do, and you're distracting me. See you tomorrow.


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