Loving Lisboa

So what have I been up to? Let's see, I last wrote about our mansion near Porto where we did battle with Bob, enjoyed Fado and port and celebrated a birthday. We divided the week there between pool days and excursion days and have done the same with our week in Estoril. Tomorrow someone's picking us up to take us a few more hours south as we chase the warm weather so tonight when we get back from dinner I'll have to start restuffing my bag. It's 8:15 and the rez is for 8:30 so I'll fill you in on the last week when I get back.

We're back and dinner was fabulous, thank you very much. We shared sangria on the boardwalk as waited for our seafood kebabs to arrive. The almost full moon sent its rippled trail right at us, the waves caressed the beach and a warm breeze brought the  ocean scent to our table. It was a perfect setting for our last meal in Monte Estoril. It's got its own train station; not quite Estoril, not quite Cascais (KashKISHE) but walking distance to both. We got on the train the night before last for the forty minute ride into Lisbon because we had a Fado (FAdoo) craving. We'd been hooked on our first serving and like drug addicts chasing that first high we were left wanting. The singers were ok but not as good as what we'd seen and felt. The food was ok but overpriced and service was lousy but none of it ruined our trip into the city. We deciphered the ticket purchase machine (sort of, we got it wrong and had to squeeze 6 people into the handicap booth to get on the train), clickety-clacked down the rails to the big city and promptly got lost. We had arrived a few hours early to experience the market we couldn't find so we found a patio instead and enjoyed cocktails watching Lisbon (Lisboa) harbour. With a half hour before our rez we discovered there was a taxi strike on (they have Uber here and they're pissed) so it got complicated. Four of us got in a TukTuk for his last fare of the evening while the other two waited for an Uber to make an appearance. Both the TukTuk and the Uber got lost trying to find the restaurant but adventure is as much getting lost as it is getting found.

We didn't actually get to see much of Lisbon but that's ok cuz the next day Juao (zhuWOW) arrived. That's John in Portuguese and my new name for the rest of our time in Portugal. "Wow Juao" has become part of our lexicon. We'd met Juao when we presented ourselves to Sintra, a district with castles, palaces and history but soon realized it was spread out and we're a group of old folks with limited mobility and even more limited knowledge of what to see. Enter Juao who saw our perplexed faces and ushered us into his oh-so-cool van. Spacious and air conditioned with a fridge and a seat that gave massages. He took control and told us what we didn't want to see, where we wanted to eat and quizzed us on Portuguese history. He declared that the biggest and best of damn near everything was right here in Portugal, this guy loves his country. Our first stop was the Palace of Queluz. I'd been to Versailles and this was identical in layout, gardens and architecture but without the crowds. Then it was a 'real' Portuguese restaurant well off the beaten path and I think lunch is becoming my favourite part of our go and see days.

Our next stop was back to where we met Juao to battle our way through the throngs to see a colourful castle atop a hill. It started out as a chapel built by the Hieronymites in the Middle Ages and was popular with pilgrims but over the years lightening and earthquakes took their toll. King Ferdinand thought it would make a nice summer residence so he outlawed the religious order and started throwing money at it. It turned into a disneylandesque structure with bright colours and billion dollar views. He eventually gave it to some Duchess he had the hots for but she didn't feel the same and donated it to "The People" around 1900. It's now a Unesco World Heritage site and if you don't mind shuffling slowly like cattle through its interior it's worth a visit. Or you could just go to Disneyland.

Then it was off to the countryside through the tiny towns with their tiny streets to get to Cabo da Roca , the westernmost tip of continental Europe.  The backing soundtrack as we stared out the windows was Juao asking "Did you know..." and "What do think that is?" Windy, beautiful and thick with Chinese tourists, Cabo was worth the effort and the effort would have been significant for those fearless drivers who maneuvered those massive buses through those tiny streets. I'm told the proliferation of Chinese tourists is due both to their booming economy and their government's strategy of allowing tax cuts to companies that keep their employees happy with free trips and such. Happy workers don't revolt.

As promised, Juao showed up the day after our Fado outing to show us the Lisbon we'd missed the day before. We pulled up in front of a monastery with a 200 meter lineup to see tiny rooms and he said "No,no that's stupid. We're going to the Mariner's Museum right next door. The height of Portuguese history was there and we had it all to ourselves. Vasco da Gama and the other early navigators that unlocked the new world were there. They'd rounded the tip of Africa to establish trade routes with India and China. They found the Azores out in the middle of the Atlantic, they visited Newfoundland and said "Uh, no thanks" and sank their culture deep into South America. For a few hundred years they were king of the ocean followed closely by the French, Spanish and Dutch and eventually the British who took most everything from them in the 1800's. "We were too nice", said Juao who then found another delicious restaurant off the beaten path, something we'd never have found on our own.  We started with the fish and spicy rice, washed it down with vinho verde and then the meat platter took over the centre of the table. I think most of the planet's creatures shared space on the that plate, a vegetarian would pale at the sight.

The waterfront with its sights and sounds was followed by a visit to the top of the city where we found another cathedral but this one had a side chapel with all the interior walls covered in ceramic tiles. They're everywhere here and it was explained that the pictures are painted on the assembled tiles in the factory, painted in various designs, reglazed and shipped. These tiles showed the violence of the Moor invasion with praying Christians looking like porcupines from all the arrows in them and women having their breasts cut off with big scissors. Kind of unusual for a church.

We got to Estoril from Porto courtesy of Antonio, the same fellow that will be arriving shortly to take us south. Yes, it's the morning after the night before and it's time to get this show on the road. Bags are packed, last minute checks have been done and Deb's tapping her toe by the door. We'll stop at a few places on our way to Loule just as we did on our way here but I'll have to tell you about it later. The future beckons.