Looking at my fino?

So, I am through the gate at Porto and after having been asked “English?” and me replying “Não Scottish” and being told to get back through, to take everything off for X-ray. Slight exaggeration there, but apparently I am safe to travel. So imagine my surprise as I see the usual collection of shops where you can buy your way out of post security trauma. But I see one, selling wrist watches, called “watch me”. Fair enough, the next one I can see the name of, but it’s selling sunglasses and instantly I think of the name “Glass me”. Coming home? Hell I’m there already. Now I understand security’s reaction.

Flight to Frankfurt fairly uneventful, which was good. I felt very petty when I had to use the seat’s recline function strategically. The person behind me had their feet jammed tightly into the back of my seat and it was bloody uncomfortable. I thought it was only fair that they should be compressed also.
One weird thing about Frankfurt is the two stage gate thing, leaving you corralled in a sort of flight based purgatory. This is preferable to Ryan air hell, but would it kill them to put a coke machine in here?Other weird thing is the staff riding around on folding bicycles. I mean it makes sense, totally. It’s just a little odd, coming as I do from a culture that is rapidly becoming one which goes into shock at the slightest threat to life or limb.