We made our way back to the hotel intending to have dinner at a little restaurant we had spotted at the bottom of the road before turning in for the night. Our trip on the underground took us to THAT STATION — the one where my card got eaten and we thought we could go to the security offices and check for an update.
In the end, we did not need to make that detour — as we met our friendly helpful security guard who gleefully informed us that our card had been found — and would be posted to our home address in Portugal. SIGH ( Sigh here means much muttered swearing under breath and sheer desperation). We double checked it had gone to our Portuguese address and not to the hotel — but, no, he said it had definitely gone to our Portuguese address. We said thank you as gracefully as we could under the circumstances and rapidly changed our dinner plans for the evening.
We decided to dine in. I always travel with crackers of some kind in case I need something to eat quickly. We had a bottle of duty-free champagne saved for our night in Venice as well. We stopped off at the supermarket in the station and bought some pate, cheese and some fruit and bottled water and headed back to the hotel for the night.