Conversation and Hennesseys. Lisbon

 

The sunshine continued as we ventured west to Portugal. We stayed in a pleasantly bright airbnb garden level apartment in Lisbon. The relaxation that so often accompanies warm weather evaded us as we explored the cobbled hills of Lisbon. Our first afternoon we hiked an hour on what was certainly an entirely vertical path to the largest, most extensive street market I’ve ever seen. It began more like a neighborhood yard sale, with blankets lining the streets for blocks, each individual vendor using their six-foot space to sell an assortment of random goods from leather boots to antique door knockers to one-eyed dolls. The market continued beyond the narrow streets to a large open area filled with tables, tents and more blankets. We spent several hours navigating the labyrinth of hidden treasures and frightening childhood toys from another time in the much welcome sunshine.  

Chris debating between an Indiana Jones hat or Harry Potter 4 in Portuguese.

One treasure we hunted for at the market all afternoon was an outfit fit for the upcoming futbol match, El Classico. To Chris’ chagrin, we accidentally left Spain one day before Barcelona played Real Madrid, a hugely popular game stacked with some of my World Cup favorites, including that handsome bitch and local Lisbon favorite, Ronaldo. Fortunately, the match was still a big deal to sports fans in Lisbon, and we were able to find a pleasantly rowdy Irish bar, Hennessey’s, to watch and cheer. With very little effort, we were able to find two Ronaldo jerseys (or futbol shirts, as we quickly learned the Brits call them) just in time for the game. An enjoyable evening of Irish beer, high fives with sweaty strangers, flaming Sambuca and new found friends from England and Australia followed. And of course Real Madrid dominated the match, which I tribute mostly to our new shirts.

 

Tom and David have big plans to visit Minneapolis. Obviously.

 We took a day trip from Lisbon to a coastal town called Cascais. Originally the trip had intended to be a beach day, but after a late start and ill-planning by someone in our group, it turned into a pleasant exploration of the town instead (questions like, “how does one get to the beach?” and “when does the sun set in Lisbon in October?” would have been important answers to seek out before leaving the apartment). But we found a strange café on the ocean that sold slabs of cold meat and bottles of takeaway beer, and we made an impromptu picnic on the jagged, volcanic looking rocks on the edge of town and watched the sunset over the Atlantic. It was the perfect end to what could have been a very disappointing day. Who needs a beach day, anyway?

 

note the lovely setting sun in our glasses

So, we didn’t find the glamorous beaches the internet was raving about. We did, however, find some pretty cool ocean-side activities of our own. We found a tranquil bar with lounge chairs feet from the shore and only a 30 second walk from a busy city square. We watched in awe as a local man built an epic sand castle on a small plot of make-shift city beach. The urban proximity to the ocean reminded me of Minneapolis and Lake Calhoun set against a backdrop of familiar skyline. A pleasant mix of relaxation and exploration. There was even a neighborhood famous for its enormous street art. Head towards the Saldahna tube stop and you won’t be able to miss the larger than life depictions of political corruption and crocodiles with story high teeth. 

 And right in the center of the city was my favorite place of all. A garden overlook with a view for miles around. The garden where we sat featured dozens of statues, representing a mix of Greek mythology and Portuguese history. But the real hero of this small overlook was the breathtaking view. And not “breathtaking” like in Seinfeld when the doctor refers to both Elaine and the ugly baby as breathtaking. I mean truly a surprisingly stunning view hidden in the middle of the city. You have to get close to the edge to appreciate the magnitude of what you are able to see. And thanks to the treacherous hills of Lisbon and with the overlook placed at the top, we looked out over a rainbow of houses from our serene perch. And we enjoyed all this serenaded by a pleasant man and a gentle acoustic guitar. If it weren’t for the flies (seriously, where are they all coming from? Were we sitting on a nest of sorts?!) we would have stayed there all day.


unfortunately this photo appears to be mostly stone ground and very little view.
So you'll just have to believe me that it was really cool.

 On our last night in Lisbon we visited a traditional Portugese restaurant down the street from our apartment, recommended by our Airbnb host. The servers did not speak English and we recognized very few words on the menu. I ordered a lemonade and veal with fried egg, which turned out to be almost exactly what I suspected. Only the lemonade I ordered appeared to be mostly lemon with the tiniest bit of water. I added all the provided sugar packets and half my water bottle before I could take a sip without my entire face contracting like a raisin.



mmmmmmmmmmm

 Chris ordered a beer and a steak. Our server wasn’t certain what he wanted and first brought over a platter of very large fish that I was almost entirely certain were dead (they looked right at me) and gestured as if to say “is this what you want?” With the platter inches from his nose, Chris attempted to explain “No! Please, I’d like… cow?” He nodded in apparent understanding and disappeared. Chris watched our meals arriving over my shoulder with a panicked expression on his face. Placed in front of him was a raw, bright pink, juicy slab of meat. But, again our heroic server and his extremely helpful gestures showed Chris that he had also brought over a hot plate, and Chris was to cook is own steak on there. It was delicious and also really fun! I’m glad my veal was cooked for me as I don’t know how Chris avoided burning his forearms on the hot plate like George Senior's corn baller. It was one of the best meals either of us had ever enjoyed, and goes to show what can happen when you point at a menu and cross your fingers.



I think I can still hear it mooing

 We did not explore the history of Lisbon as earnestly as we have in other places. We did not take any tours, we did not seek out informative books or articles, and we did not visit a single museum. But we took away a feeling about a place in a moment in time. A lifestyle. A pride in freshly made sangria and freshly caught fish. I felt welcome here, less of a tourist, more of a visitor. I’d like to learn more about Portugesue history and culture because of the snapshot of happiness I took in the few short days we experienced here. Bottoms up, Lisbon. Or as they say, saúde!



post work happy hour anyone?! (Also, how handsome is that man?)

 lovefromkt