Lisbon, Portugal
September 29, 2014
Latitude 38.7138°
It was exactly my first full day in Lisbon and I'd made my way to the Monastery of Saint Jerome--San Geronimos in Portuguese. It's a major tourist site in the city and perhaps Lisbon's most famous buildings. It was high on my list of place to see.
What I'd not planned on was two cruise ships being in port on the same day. Early clues had told me it was going to a busy, busy day!
When I got to the entrance of the monastery the line was long and aggressive. People were pushing their way in. Old ladies, hordes of camera toting Japanese and legions of your every day variety of tourist.
So, I backed off. This was not how I wanted to spend my first day. I had two months in front of me and this place could wait a bit.
Instead, I entered the 14th century church, toured its gorgeous interior where tree-trunk columns grew to a spider web of a ceiling. A golden light cast from high stained glass windows cast a warm light on the altar and on the elegant tomb of Vasco da Gama.
I gave the church an hour or so, and figured to hordes would have abated.
But I was wrong.
Just as I was leaving the church, an overly aggressive Asian tourist began to race past me and literally pushed me out of the way.
Instinctively, my right arm went out and slammed into his gut--not something I normally do.
"I was first," I muttered.
He stopped cold. For a moment I though we were on the verge of some new Sino-American conflict.
We stared at each for a long second or two, but he backed down, let me past and that was that!
What a way to start this nine week trip!
The line was still horrifying, so I just gave up on the idea of seeing this site on day 1. It was still early in the day, and there was still plenty of time for the cruisers to be in port. But I knew they'd leave in due time. God forbid they miss that night's buffet line!
So I regrouped. I had five full days in Lisbon so there was no need to endure this sort of crunch. Instead, I spent my day in two lovely botanical garden--a respite form the cruise ship tourists and a gentler approach to seeing this lovely city. I was still tired from a transatlantic flight and lack of sleep for 40 hours.
In subsequent days I deliberately got lost in the labyrinthine Moorish time capsule of the Alfama with its tangled alleyways, skinny terracotta roofed houses and orange-tree shaded patios. I'd sit for half an hour, read, let daily life pass me by, watch Lisbon's ubiquitous red or yellow trams trundle up the steep and narrow streets. This was "old" Lisbon and its streets had seen legions of Roman soldiers and foot-tramping Crusaders.
I was reminded of another day, two years ago, when I followed a similar trail through the sinuous streets of Kathmandu. It brought back pleasant memories.
And so the days passed quickly. A weekend day trip to Sintra was a bit of a bust--far too crowded to enjoy its imposing castles and fairy-tale like setting. I did take a bus trip that brought me round the Sintra area and to Cabo da Roca--the western most po9nt of Europe. It was a hot, sunny Saturday afternoon and the place was packed, but standing atop the precipitous cliffs that plunged down to a piercing blue sea was a marvelous way to end the day. I made a huge mental note that if I came back this way I'd spend far longer than an afternoon in the special area outside Lisbon.
On Sunday I needed some quieter diversion, so I made my way to Queluz, just outside of Lisbon center, to the former summer palace of Portuguese Royalty of the 17th and 18th Century.
Well, I wasn't disappointed. It was eerily quiet and I and few other tourists seemed to be the only people there. I'd seen this place before, but not in Portugal. It was patterned after Versailles in Paris and the Peterhof in St. Petersburg. But unlike both of those places, it was a treat to roam to its elegant rooms without others breathing down my neck. Room after room was filled with original furnishing from that time period. How it was all salvaged is a mystery.
Outside, the oak-lined formal gardens were just beginning to turn early shades of autumnal brown and yellow.
Overriding my stay in Lisbon had been my very good fortune to stay at the home of Ana Balthazar, who I'd found online at airbnb.com. Along with her two sons and another guest from South Africa, it was a pleasure to stay in her 6th floor apartment building.
For $28.00 a night in a truly residential neighborhood, I got a comfortable bed, a view of the Tagus River, good people to come "home" to every night and, best of all, a free ride from the airport when I arrived at 7:00 a.m. from Montreal. More than once she invited me to share dinner with her family and repaid the favor with Portuguese take out. It couldn't have been better.
I was reminded of my stay in Eastern Europe many years ago when I'd go home with local women who met tourists at the train station and were renting out rooms in their homes. I was never disappointed and to this day some of my richest travel experiences have been given from some of those kind folks.
By week's end I finally did get back to the Saint Jerome Monastery. Blessedly, there were no cruise ships in port. I was duly wowed by the fusion of creative vision and moneys procured from discoveries by the early Portuguese explorers that produced this splendid monument--a foretaste of splendors to come.
Early in the evening of my last full day in Lisbon, I was eating a quiet dinner at a street side restaurant when a bride walked by with a few of her girlfriends. Dusk was setting over the capital, I glanced upward and saw a brilliant crescent of new moon. A good sign I thought. Fifteen minutes later I heard the distant strains of Ave Maria. I thought of my mother who told me so many times how this had been sung at her wedding (and would later be sung at her funeral). What a nice way to end the day...a silver crescent of new moon and a hymn with so many emotional connections.
My stay here had been a good one--rich and full and wanting of more--and this silvery moon bode well for a continued good journey.
And while I would miss Ana and the multiple distractions Lisbon had to offer, I was looking forward to quieter days but equally enriching days ahead.
September 29, 2014
Latitude 38.7138°
It was exactly my first full day in Lisbon and I'd made my way to the Monastery of Saint Jerome--San Geronimos in Portuguese. It's a major tourist site in the city and perhaps Lisbon's most famous buildings. It was high on my list of place to see.
What I'd not planned on was two cruise ships being in port on the same day. Early clues had told me it was going to a busy, busy day!
When I got to the entrance of the monastery the line was long and aggressive. People were pushing their way in. Old ladies, hordes of camera toting Japanese and legions of your every day variety of tourist.So, I backed off. This was not how I wanted to spend my first day. I had two months in front of me and this place could wait a bit.
Instead, I entered the 14th century church, toured its gorgeous interior where tree-trunk columns grew to a spider web of a ceiling. A golden light cast from high stained glass windows cast a warm light on the altar and on the elegant tomb of Vasco da Gama.
I gave the church an hour or so, and figured to hordes would have abated.
But I was wrong.
Just as I was leaving the church, an overly aggressive Asian tourist began to race past me and literally pushed me out of the way.
Instinctively, my right arm went out and slammed into his gut--not something I normally do.
"I was first," I muttered.
He stopped cold. For a moment I though we were on the verge of some new Sino-American conflict.
We stared at each for a long second or two, but he backed down, let me past and that was that!
What a way to start this nine week trip!
The line was still horrifying, so I just gave up on the idea of seeing this site on day 1. It was still early in the day, and there was still plenty of time for the cruisers to be in port. But I knew they'd leave in due time. God forbid they miss that night's buffet line!
So I regrouped. I had five full days in Lisbon so there was no need to endure this sort of crunch. Instead, I spent my day in two lovely botanical garden--a respite form the cruise ship tourists and a gentler approach to seeing this lovely city. I was still tired from a transatlantic flight and lack of sleep for 40 hours.
In subsequent days I deliberately got lost in the labyrinthine Moorish time capsule of the Alfama with its tangled alleyways, skinny terracotta roofed houses and orange-tree shaded patios. I'd sit for half an hour, read, let daily life pass me by, watch Lisbon's ubiquitous red or yellow trams trundle up the steep and narrow streets. This was "old" Lisbon and its streets had seen legions of Roman soldiers and foot-tramping Crusaders.
I was reminded of another day, two years ago, when I followed a similar trail through the sinuous streets of Kathmandu. It brought back pleasant memories.
And so the days passed quickly. A weekend day trip to Sintra was a bit of a bust--far too crowded to enjoy its imposing castles and fairy-tale like setting. I did take a bus trip that brought me round the Sintra area and to Cabo da Roca--the western most po9nt of Europe. It was a hot, sunny Saturday afternoon and the place was packed, but standing atop the precipitous cliffs that plunged down to a piercing blue sea was a marvelous way to end the day. I made a huge mental note that if I came back this way I'd spend far longer than an afternoon in the special area outside Lisbon.On Sunday I needed some quieter diversion, so I made my way to Queluz, just outside of Lisbon center, to the former summer palace of Portuguese Royalty of the 17th and 18th Century.
Well, I wasn't disappointed. It was eerily quiet and I and few other tourists seemed to be the only people there. I'd seen this place before, but not in Portugal. It was patterned after Versailles in Paris and the Peterhof in St. Petersburg. But unlike both of those places, it was a treat to roam to its elegant rooms without others breathing down my neck. Room after room was filled with original furnishing from that time period. How it was all salvaged is a mystery.
Outside, the oak-lined formal gardens were just beginning to turn early shades of autumnal brown and yellow. Overriding my stay in Lisbon had been my very good fortune to stay at the home of Ana Balthazar, who I'd found online at airbnb.com. Along with her two sons and another guest from South Africa, it was a pleasure to stay in her 6th floor apartment building.
For $28.00 a night in a truly residential neighborhood, I got a comfortable bed, a view of the Tagus River, good people to come "home" to every night and, best of all, a free ride from the airport when I arrived at 7:00 a.m. from Montreal. More than once she invited me to share dinner with her family and repaid the favor with Portuguese take out. It couldn't have been better.
I was reminded of my stay in Eastern Europe many years ago when I'd go home with local women who met tourists at the train station and were renting out rooms in their homes. I was never disappointed and to this day some of my richest travel experiences have been given from some of those kind folks.
By week's end I finally did get back to the Saint Jerome Monastery. Blessedly, there were no cruise ships in port. I was duly wowed by the fusion of creative vision and moneys procured from discoveries by the early Portuguese explorers that produced this splendid monument--a foretaste of splendors to come.
Early in the evening of my last full day in Lisbon, I was eating a quiet dinner at a street side restaurant when a bride walked by with a few of her girlfriends. Dusk was setting over the capital, I glanced upward and saw a brilliant crescent of new moon. A good sign I thought. Fifteen minutes later I heard the distant strains of Ave Maria. I thought of my mother who told me so many times how this had been sung at her wedding (and would later be sung at her funeral). What a nice way to end the day...a silver crescent of new moon and a hymn with so many emotional connections.
My stay here had been a good one--rich and full and wanting of more--and this silvery moon bode well for a continued good journey.
And while I would miss Ana and the multiple distractions Lisbon had to offer, I was looking forward to quieter days but equally enriching days ahead.
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