are you loving the punderful titles? i think this one is particularly imaginative.
anyway, i'm trying to ride the wave of motivation while it lasts, so this post is about my time in portugal. i didn't get to stay in this beautiful country for as long as i would have liked but I had seven wonderful days wandering dreamily down cobblestone alleyways, taking hurried selfies next to colourful tiled facades and stuffing my face with creamy custard tarts in it's glorious capital, lisbon.
while waiting to board my flight there from madrid, i had a mild heart attack when i suddenly heard over the loud speakers " ... (incomprehensible spanish) ... meeee-leee-sa a-spur-gen ... (español, español) ... "
tentatively, with a look i can only assume was two parts fear, one part thrilled excitement at having been singled out, i approached the front counter and started gesturing wildly to the ceiling: "you say mi nombre (my name)... me-leee-sa..." etc. when the friendly attendant finally figured out what i meant, he informed me that i had just been upgraded to business class.
WAAAHHOOOOOOOERCXHDFJDNKNNSFKNWLRKFHRF!!!!!
my joy was a sight worthy to behold. images of being handed plush slippers and a flute of champagne before being ushered into a plump reclining armchair with a widescreen tv and on-demand food rub flashed before my eyes. i shot a smug, apologetic smile at the poor souls who had to sit in economy, as i got to line up first to board the flight.
sadly, the experience wasn't quite what i'd hoped.
turns out when a flight is roughly 1 hour and 8 minutes, and you choose to fly with a budget airline, 'business class' merely means you are separated from those sorry sods in the back by a thin maroon curtain.
the chairs are the same size and i received no offer of a massage of any kind. i did get a free lunch (i ate the bread roll) and a miniature bottle of wine (which somewhat made up for my disappointment at what will probably be the only time i am ever upgraded, ever).
^^ the portuguese seem to be quite on-point when it comes to wind farms. muy bien!!
i couldn't decide where i wanted to stay in lisbon, as there were so many interesting places listed on airbnb. in the end, i rented out a room at a yoga studio in central lisbon for the first few days and a cabin on a boat that was docked at the tagus river for the second.
on my first night, i took myself out on a date to a vegetarian restaurant called terra restaurante natural, which was heralded on happy cow (my go-to website for veggie delights all over europe) as the best in lisbon.
it was an organic, mostly vegan buffet (insert peace sign emoji here, marn) that was a little on the spensy side but totally worth it - i refilled my plate about three times and didn't even get to sample everything i wanted. deeeelish.
the following day, i set off on a treasure hunt to find the most beautiful titled facades in lisbon. i believe i succeeded.
i took many, many photos of tiles in this time, so in an effort to mix things up a little, i decided it would be a great idea to take selfies in front of them. surely, i reasoned, it will make for far more interesting photos if there is a common link, a pattern.
upon review, i see now that i look like a tight-lipped nervous person who, yes, may be wearing sunglasses that are too big for her face but she will hear no bad word against them, thank you!
please do not let this deter you from appreciating the quality of the tile work behind me though.
lisbon is very very very hilly which, while great for scenic photography, is a pain in the a (literally) to get around.
this little dog made me very sad. i was charmed at first and took a picture, before i saw him drop his bucket unhappily and the man shove it roughly back in his mouth.
i shouldn't judge, as these are hard times for a lot of people and desperate times, desperate measures. i just hope the man is kind to the little guy normally.
this was the artwork in the train station near the yoga studio. how racey!
^ this is a university <3
for the suuuper steep hills, there were uphill tram carts to do the hard part for us.
by this point i had moved from the yoga school to the príncipe perfeito, a magnificent vessel parked not far from the 25 de abril bridge.
some interesting (at least to me) trivia about the 25 de abril bridge: 1. it was named in honour of a revolution in portugal that occurred on the 25th of april 1974, and 2. it is only one of three places in the world in which you can sail a boat under a train, which is under a car, which is under a plane.
fo reals. i remember reading somewhere (oddly, i believe it was a sweet valley high book) that such a occurrence exists. and one night, as i sailed up the tagus, i saw it with my own eyes.
can you see it? there is a sailboat. under a train. under a car. under a plane. remarkable, no? the author in this article, certainly seems to think so.
as she/he writes: "i wonder if anyone has a picture to show a sailing boat under a running train under a car driving under an airplane!! That picture would worth thousands if not millions of dollars".
i'm starting the auction at $500,000.
all the guides books screamed at me (as did several walking guide books, also known as backpackers) that i must must MUST visit belém and sample one of their world famous custard tarts. i am so glad i listened.
oh sweet lord. oh hey-zues. oh mother bloody mary. there are no words. none.
none.
i decided to walk off the food baby and set off along the mouth of the tagus. this part of lisbon has so much good stuff to gawk at... for example, the hulking figure above is not a place to worship hey-zues as i first suspected; but a monument celebrating the age of discovery and exploration. so much better.
further down the river was belém tower. i liked it so much.
that night, the captain informed me that the boat was being hired for a cruise by a small party and asked whether i wanted to come along for the ride.
will i be in the way? no. can i sit on the top deck and watch the sunset and drink this bottle of wine i just bought? yes.
yes.
the following day, i went to a flea market, where i bought a few pictures and a pair of children's overalls for $3 that somehow fit, but aren't the most flattering.
i did not, to my later regret, buy the plush penis dressed as superman.
i developed a bit of a sniffle and cough after a few nights at sea and one day slept in late and just couldn't get my shit together. aware of my time in lisbon running out, i signed up for an afternoon tour of sintra, a magical little village with a castle worthy of disney.
it was on the other side of the country, not far but far enough. i couldn't be bothered trying to figure out public transport and how to get there, so i happily handed over 35 euros for someone else to take me. but first, i needed to eat.
and this is what i ate:
now, friend, calm thyself. it is a vegetarian hotdog. i checked. three times. in english and portuguese. it's mock meat. it was unbelievaballs.
once in sintra, the driver pointed everyone in the direction of the castle and told us to be back here in 3 hours. it must have been the french cold & flu medicine i ingested that morning, as for some reason i stubbornly decided i didn't want to follow the crowd up to the castle. i was sure i could find a way to get there myself, away from the crowds.
never mind the fact i was snotty, low on tissues, a bit wheezy in the chest and quite frankly, very tired.
i could do it my own self.
except turns out, i couldn't.
after navigating the lovely streets of sintra, i finally found myself at an entrance to the castle grounds. that is, one of the entrances. there were several. and according to the giant map, i was at the one furtherest away from where i needed to be.
i don't know what came over me. i truly don't. but rather than following the paved pathway that would lead me - slowly, yes, but surely - to the castle, i turned off the path; through an old archway (not even shitting you, it was like the secret garden) and onto a leaf-strewn pathway that ran alongside a mould covered wall.
i guess i reasoned that it would probably lead to somewhere and hopefully shave a good 15 minutes off the journey time.
except it didn't. an hour later, i was still on the path. and i could not see the castle. and i had run out of tissues. and i was going to die.
^ i took that photo so the coroners and my family could see that i died peacefully, surrounded by nature. only half jokingly.
just before i completely lost it and curled up in the foetal position next to a boulder, i saw signs of human life again. as i stumbled out onto a cement pathway - scratched, sweaty, and had it been a movie, with leaves and twigs in my hair - i ran smack bang into a young woman walking quietly by herself.
'am i near the castle?! do you know where i am??!!' i shouted hysterically at her. she had every right to think i was a lunatic but instead she smiled, and told me she thought the entrance was nearby. kindly, she offered to walk with me and i babbled her ear off the whole way about my near-death experience on the tranquil forest pathway.
now, i'm not one to talk earnestly of fate and destiny and the like (well, maybe i am) but i believe i was meant to get lost that day, just so i could meet amanda. she, too, had lost her way in the forest. she had climbed up on top of a boulder to get a good view and write in her notebook, and climbed down on the wrong side. i was the first person she had encountered since finding her way back too. it was meant to be.
the fact we got along like a house not just on fire, but burning to the ground, helped as well.
i never got to see the castle, except for this little peep above the tree line. but that was ok. i had been forced to consider my own mortality and made a delightful new friend. by the time amanda and i stopped chinwagging, it was time for me to run back down to the bus. we quickly made plans to meet back up again the following day.
en route back to lisbon, the bus stopped at some cliffs that were very beautiful.
that night, i wandered around lisbon before coming back to the boat and getting drunk with captain below deck.
a little hungover and sheepish the next morning, i met up with amanda and we decided to go to the beach.
followed by some crisp beeeeerz and a walk along the pier.
lovely amanda ^
my boat was setting off upriver again that night, so i invited amanda to join me on the top deck. we ate snacks and drunk bottles of wine and watched the moon set (it was amazing, i've never seen the moon do that before).
before long, we found ourselves downstairs partying with a large group of 25-year-old locals.
they were all a bit confused as to who the two uninvited whiteys were, dancing up a storm in the middle of the d-floor. however, they soon accepted us as one of their own. technically amanda was supposed to get off the boat with our new amigos when it docked at 3am; however, after eating cheese and biscuits in my cabin, my bunk beds proved too alluring and we passed out before long.
sadly, the following day i had to fly back to spain. amanda and i promised to keep in touch and i am pleased to say we have stayed true... mostly.
a month may pass before either of us (usually me) responds to the other's email; but that does not diminish the depth of friendship within, and the absolute sincerity of those emails.
amanda, if you see this, please know i think of you often and i'm so sorry i've been slow in my turn to respond. i hope the fact that i am only now writing about something that occurred nearly 12 months ago proves that i am simply terrible when it comes to sitting down to concentrate on something important - not that i don't want to respond to your lovely, thoughtful email. i promise to write soon and can't wait for our leafy pathways in a far-off forest to cross once again xoxo
