Laneway, Lagos, 1.58pm
I'm in Lagos now, it's a resort place down at the bottom of Portugal, near Albufeira, which is super popular with the Poms. Honestly, there are so many Poms here that I can't imagine how many are just another hour east of here. The place isn't particularly Portuguese and there are lots of Poms living here and doing nice things like running English second hand bookstores - SCORE! (Much as I enjoy the writing of Janet Evanovich, there's only so many times you can read 'Metro Girl'.)
However I haven't told you about Comibra or Evora yet, so let me share that joy with you.
I hit Coimbra after Porto, it's only an hour south, and had a super fun time schlepping my suitcase up a LOT of stairs with a vague offer to help from a pixie-sized local. No thanks, I've got it. Hostel was in a nice house, but it was absolutely freezing. Scored quite well on the roommate front though, I went to bed around 9ish and he crawled into bed at 6.15 the following morning. Jeez, kids these days.
I spent Saturday wandering around Coimbra, had an excellent coffee and some toast at one of Coimbra's oldest and finest cafes, Cafe Santa Cruz, next to the church of the same name. Best bit was observing the locals, mostly older gents with their newspapers and a man polishing their shoes. I kid you not. Espressos, news and a spot of boot polish on Saturday morning, am now wondering if it would work at Gusto?? Then wandered in a vague way towards the university sitting right on top of the hill, on top of the city. Finally found my way UP, if nothing else I will hopefully return home with a nice tight bum from all the stairs and hills, although the custard tarts say otherwise. Uni was cool, old, plus it had an academic prison. They put it in so that students who committed academic crimes (as opposed to murder, theft and rape) could be punished but kept away from the nasty regular crims. Very soft of them.
Off to Evora on Sunday, spent most of the day on trains or waiting for trains while it HAILED. Evora has, in the centre of its town, a walled section with the bit inside full of little squares, churches and white buildings with yellow trim, very pretty. The wall around the outside was built by the Romans and/or Moors. The highlight is the Capela dos Ossos at the Igreja de Sao Francisco. The Capela dos Ossos is the Bone Chapel and it's literally a small chapel with the walls entirely covered in human bones and skulls. Pretty gruesome, but certainly memorable. I REALLY wanted to take a pic of me with the bones in the background for a new Facebook profile shot..but didn't think it was entirely appropriate!
Lunch in Evora was a traditional Alentejo dish - pork with clams. Nothing special, and I did think it was a weird combination, but as Mum pointed out, in Australia we're terribly fond of the old beef 'n' reef option, so can't really judge.
And now I'm in Lagos. Did the official wander this morning, checked out the church, museum and the fort, wandered the lanes and sat in the central square with all the old blokes, watching the world go by. I'm here for a few days and don't want to ruin all my fun in one day, will do a longer walk over to the big main beach tomorrow. On the menu here, at some point, will be the grilled sardines - aw hell yeah!
BEST PART! My hostel here is close to an ACTUAL supermarket! Not a mini one! Not some old bloke selling bananas, bottled water and sausages from his front room! I'm talking big, with STUFF, a VARIETY of stuff, and checkouts and trolleys. Will probably be back just for the entertainment alone. I bought bits and pieces I needed (FRUIT) and also thought I'd buy a nice big ceramic mug because all the hostels have small ones, very insubstantial for someone who likes a serious sized cup of tea of a morning, like myself. So I got myself a Disney princesses one, Snow White, Cinderella & co. Figured it'd be like Australia, couple of bucks. Got home and checked the receipt. 5.90Euros. TWELVE DOLLARS AUSTRALIAN for a SUPERMARKET PRINCESS MUG. Woops. It gets better - I had it on a shelf in my room and accidentally knocked it off onto the tile floor, breaking off the handle. So I now own a twelve dollar princess mug with no handle. Travel rocks.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
I Am Cold
Chilly hostel lobby, Coimbra, 4.05pm
Made it without drama to Coimbra this morning after a very enjoyable three days in Porto. I really loved the place, it was all steep, cobbled alleys and rotten looking buildings in this permanent damp mist. All with the sound of gulls and church bells and rather gothic towers looming out at you. Very atmospheric.
I spent Wednesday just wandering about, half trying to find places and half just looking at everything. Plus the city wasn't exactly planned, it isn't a nice massive grid system like Melbourne, which meant that finding places was tricky. I'd finally work out which way I was going on the map and where something should be and get to where I thought it should be and crack it because it wasn't there. Then I'd turn around and ta da! It'd be right in front of me.
So I visited the Igreja de Sao Francisco, a church which was just old stone and not particularly impressive on the outside, but inside it looked like the gold fairy had vomited all over it, pretty impressive. It also had catacombs underneath, full of not only entombed dead people, but a little window where you could look down underneath and see human bones from other people buried there. They used to bury people in churches before they had cemeteries. I also wandered along the river, checking out the port wine cellars across the river in Gaia. I wandered around the shopping district, went to Porto's oldest bookstore and bought a book. The place was magnificent, very elaborate woodwork inside. I also found the super hip arty section of Porto and bought a couple of little brooches. Then I had two beautiful espressos at Cafe Guarany, a famous and old cafe. Mum certainly would've appreciated the presentation of the coffees too. They came in a mini cup and saucer with sugar, spoon and chocolate on the side, and all of that was sitting on top of another napkin and a bigger saucer. Made me so very very happy!
Had a wonderful encounter at Mini Preco (mini supermarket) one afternoon while I was waiting in the twelve person long queue to pay for my packet soup and Kit Kat. I looked up to see an old lady putting her groceries in her bag and she lifted up this thing which I swear to god looked like a skinned and vacuum sealed cat. I'm hoping it was a rabbit or something, but it was GROSS and SCARY and my mouth literally dropped open in horror.
Yesterday I took the train up to Regua and back, just for the trip because for about half the journey it goes along the Douro river and it's a really pretty ride. There are vineyards and old farms and ORANGE TREES, lots of orange trees. The hills coming down to the river are really steep so they are divided into terraces with stone walls and on each level there was often a line of vines on the outside and orange trees on the inside. And being winter it was all green and grey and brown, except for all the bright little oranges!
My hostel in Porto was great, the staff were really friendly and the place was clean and nicely set up. I got a room to myself, yay, because the day after I got there they were filled up with a group of chemical engineering students and a couple of teachers from Amsterdam. Yes, 4 girls and 22 boys. They all arrived at 8pm and came pouring into the living area where I was quietly eating my soup and kiwi fruit so that was fairly....funny! They were polite and friendly and out all day doing uni stuff so it was fine.
And now I'm in Coimbra and it's freezing - stupid tightarse hostels and their lack of heating! Plus I couldn't find a supermarket so I am having dinner from a vending machine, squee. Oh and my hostel in Evora, next place I'm going, has just emailed to say that I can't stay there because their renovations aren't finished. Perhaps this counts as an emergency worthy of a hotel with heating and my own TV and bathroom.
Made it without drama to Coimbra this morning after a very enjoyable three days in Porto. I really loved the place, it was all steep, cobbled alleys and rotten looking buildings in this permanent damp mist. All with the sound of gulls and church bells and rather gothic towers looming out at you. Very atmospheric.
I spent Wednesday just wandering about, half trying to find places and half just looking at everything. Plus the city wasn't exactly planned, it isn't a nice massive grid system like Melbourne, which meant that finding places was tricky. I'd finally work out which way I was going on the map and where something should be and get to where I thought it should be and crack it because it wasn't there. Then I'd turn around and ta da! It'd be right in front of me.
So I visited the Igreja de Sao Francisco, a church which was just old stone and not particularly impressive on the outside, but inside it looked like the gold fairy had vomited all over it, pretty impressive. It also had catacombs underneath, full of not only entombed dead people, but a little window where you could look down underneath and see human bones from other people buried there. They used to bury people in churches before they had cemeteries. I also wandered along the river, checking out the port wine cellars across the river in Gaia. I wandered around the shopping district, went to Porto's oldest bookstore and bought a book. The place was magnificent, very elaborate woodwork inside. I also found the super hip arty section of Porto and bought a couple of little brooches. Then I had two beautiful espressos at Cafe Guarany, a famous and old cafe. Mum certainly would've appreciated the presentation of the coffees too. They came in a mini cup and saucer with sugar, spoon and chocolate on the side, and all of that was sitting on top of another napkin and a bigger saucer. Made me so very very happy!
Had a wonderful encounter at Mini Preco (mini supermarket) one afternoon while I was waiting in the twelve person long queue to pay for my packet soup and Kit Kat. I looked up to see an old lady putting her groceries in her bag and she lifted up this thing which I swear to god looked like a skinned and vacuum sealed cat. I'm hoping it was a rabbit or something, but it was GROSS and SCARY and my mouth literally dropped open in horror.
Yesterday I took the train up to Regua and back, just for the trip because for about half the journey it goes along the Douro river and it's a really pretty ride. There are vineyards and old farms and ORANGE TREES, lots of orange trees. The hills coming down to the river are really steep so they are divided into terraces with stone walls and on each level there was often a line of vines on the outside and orange trees on the inside. And being winter it was all green and grey and brown, except for all the bright little oranges!
My hostel in Porto was great, the staff were really friendly and the place was clean and nicely set up. I got a room to myself, yay, because the day after I got there they were filled up with a group of chemical engineering students and a couple of teachers from Amsterdam. Yes, 4 girls and 22 boys. They all arrived at 8pm and came pouring into the living area where I was quietly eating my soup and kiwi fruit so that was fairly....funny! They were polite and friendly and out all day doing uni stuff so it was fine.
And now I'm in Coimbra and it's freezing - stupid tightarse hostels and their lack of heating! Plus I couldn't find a supermarket so I am having dinner from a vending machine, squee. Oh and my hostel in Evora, next place I'm going, has just emailed to say that I can't stay there because their renovations aren't finished. Perhaps this counts as an emergency worthy of a hotel with heating and my own TV and bathroom.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I Am Drowning
Travessa do Ferraz, Porto, 5.21pm
For a drought stricken Aussie chick, the weather in Sintra over Sunday and Monday was a little bit too much for me, quite frankly! It was wet, like being in a cloud of damp drizzle all day Sunday. Not rain, as such, but wet wet wet - like the band. And Monday swayed between proper rain, brilliant sunshine and dampness. I haven't been properly wet for years and I don't like it! And I didn't even have the comfort of thinking 'The farmers will be happy' because by the looks of it they don't need it!
However, Sintra is a very pretty little town. I went up to Pena Palace and Park after I arrived and it was INCREDIBLE. It would have been stunning on a clear day, but I think the castle and all its turrets rising out of the mist was even more atmospheric. The inside was still full of all the furniture, paintings, decorations from when the royals lived there. The park was all dampness and trees and moss and boulders and I kept expecting the wood nymphs and trolls to come looming out at me.
After that I tried to find Sintra's National Palace. The Portuguese Sign Thieves had been at it again unfortunately and, I kid you not and please be appalled, I walked past the National Palace at least FOUR TIMES without realising what it was. It wasn't a particularly attractive or exciting building, hence me walking past going 'No that can't be it'. Until eventually I went a bit closer and TA DA! It was quite cool inside too, my favourite bit (how unsurprising) was the colossal kitchen. It had two big funnel shaped chimneys and the world's biggest pots. That's a whole lot of soup!
Sintra is really better as a day trip from Lisbon, except I didn't know that so had booked myself into a hostel there. I was the only one there so I had a dorm for six to myself - yay. Not so yay was the complete lack of ANYTHING to do or watch or listen to. No books, no TV, no internet....DYING! Couldn't even enjoy a looooong hot shower because it was super manky. Sunday afternoon everything was shut too, like the supermarket, so I ate early then went back and hopped into bed with my book and my iPod.
I then fully embraced the travelling lifestyle and had two mandarins and half a block of chocolate for breakfast the next day. (Hi Mum!) And off to Mafra I went!
I sat on the bus, looking out my window, but not out the other side of the bus, and therefore managed to COMPLETELY miss Mafra's National Palace and had to get off and walk back. It was fairly unmissable too and even had a couple of signs. I'm going to blame it on my lack of proper breakfast as opposed to my uselessness.
To bolster my flagging will after the trek from Somewhere back to the National Palace, I stopped for a coffee and another custard tart. I have so embraced the language and the culture - I can get all I really need!
The Mafra National Palace was AMAZING! (Can't wait to finally go somewhere that I find dull and uninteresting.) It was HUUUUGE and had all these long corridors that went down entire sides of the building, opening into room after room after room. Worth a mention - the Trophy Room. No, not Under 14s Tennis - Most Improved 1991, more like HUNDREDS of antlers, boar heads with the tongues lolling out, and furniture made out of antlers and hides. They were everywhere, even the light fittings were made out of antlers.
It had also housed a monastery and infirmary so this bit downstairs was full of monks' cells, mortars and pestles and beds for the sick where the blood drainer would come and visit them everyday.
The other room of note, and obviously their pride and joy, was the library. I can't even describe how big it was, I think technically it was 85m long and 10m wide, two stories high, and packed with books, plus dead silent. There's not much you can say really!
Made it back to Sintra, the supermarket was open so I got a few bits and pieces for dinner to save faffing around and some money. Still nowhere with internet open and even worse - I'd finished both my books. I tried to find a bookshop I'd seen the day before - no such luck.
Back to the hostel then, got suddenly excited when I thought 'I know! I can pluck my eyebrows! That'll kill some time!' Sadly, they didn't need much love. So I did what I do best - I had a nap. Then it was time for dinner! Don't ever let my occasional preciousness deceive you - I can make do and be outrageously resourceful when I really need to be! On the menu then:
Baguette warmed on top of the heater with tuna/Vegemite and butter nicked from my Lisbon hotel
Bananas
Chocolate biscuits
Fanta cooled to room temperature
I even remembered to buy some plastic plates and spoons!
I think I might end with a quote from my journal now because I thought it summed the whole Hostelling In Sintra Experience quite well.
'....massive thanks to Nicola C for my lovely beanie. If only I had fingerless gloves to match, too boho for words. Tuna and baguettes in a chilly room, dressed like a homeless person, writing furiously in a genius-like manner. What a marvellous adventure this all is!'
(And to kill time until bedtime I started re-reading a book and drew a lovely picture of my shoe.)
Nicola v. Custard Tarts: 3-0
For a drought stricken Aussie chick, the weather in Sintra over Sunday and Monday was a little bit too much for me, quite frankly! It was wet, like being in a cloud of damp drizzle all day Sunday. Not rain, as such, but wet wet wet - like the band. And Monday swayed between proper rain, brilliant sunshine and dampness. I haven't been properly wet for years and I don't like it! And I didn't even have the comfort of thinking 'The farmers will be happy' because by the looks of it they don't need it!
However, Sintra is a very pretty little town. I went up to Pena Palace and Park after I arrived and it was INCREDIBLE. It would have been stunning on a clear day, but I think the castle and all its turrets rising out of the mist was even more atmospheric. The inside was still full of all the furniture, paintings, decorations from when the royals lived there. The park was all dampness and trees and moss and boulders and I kept expecting the wood nymphs and trolls to come looming out at me.
After that I tried to find Sintra's National Palace. The Portuguese Sign Thieves had been at it again unfortunately and, I kid you not and please be appalled, I walked past the National Palace at least FOUR TIMES without realising what it was. It wasn't a particularly attractive or exciting building, hence me walking past going 'No that can't be it'. Until eventually I went a bit closer and TA DA! It was quite cool inside too, my favourite bit (how unsurprising) was the colossal kitchen. It had two big funnel shaped chimneys and the world's biggest pots. That's a whole lot of soup!
Sintra is really better as a day trip from Lisbon, except I didn't know that so had booked myself into a hostel there. I was the only one there so I had a dorm for six to myself - yay. Not so yay was the complete lack of ANYTHING to do or watch or listen to. No books, no TV, no internet....DYING! Couldn't even enjoy a looooong hot shower because it was super manky. Sunday afternoon everything was shut too, like the supermarket, so I ate early then went back and hopped into bed with my book and my iPod.
I then fully embraced the travelling lifestyle and had two mandarins and half a block of chocolate for breakfast the next day. (Hi Mum!) And off to Mafra I went!
I sat on the bus, looking out my window, but not out the other side of the bus, and therefore managed to COMPLETELY miss Mafra's National Palace and had to get off and walk back. It was fairly unmissable too and even had a couple of signs. I'm going to blame it on my lack of proper breakfast as opposed to my uselessness.
To bolster my flagging will after the trek from Somewhere back to the National Palace, I stopped for a coffee and another custard tart. I have so embraced the language and the culture - I can get all I really need!
The Mafra National Palace was AMAZING! (Can't wait to finally go somewhere that I find dull and uninteresting.) It was HUUUUGE and had all these long corridors that went down entire sides of the building, opening into room after room after room. Worth a mention - the Trophy Room. No, not Under 14s Tennis - Most Improved 1991, more like HUNDREDS of antlers, boar heads with the tongues lolling out, and furniture made out of antlers and hides. They were everywhere, even the light fittings were made out of antlers.
It had also housed a monastery and infirmary so this bit downstairs was full of monks' cells, mortars and pestles and beds for the sick where the blood drainer would come and visit them everyday.
The other room of note, and obviously their pride and joy, was the library. I can't even describe how big it was, I think technically it was 85m long and 10m wide, two stories high, and packed with books, plus dead silent. There's not much you can say really!
Made it back to Sintra, the supermarket was open so I got a few bits and pieces for dinner to save faffing around and some money. Still nowhere with internet open and even worse - I'd finished both my books. I tried to find a bookshop I'd seen the day before - no such luck.
Back to the hostel then, got suddenly excited when I thought 'I know! I can pluck my eyebrows! That'll kill some time!' Sadly, they didn't need much love. So I did what I do best - I had a nap. Then it was time for dinner! Don't ever let my occasional preciousness deceive you - I can make do and be outrageously resourceful when I really need to be! On the menu then:
Baguette warmed on top of the heater with tuna/Vegemite and butter nicked from my Lisbon hotel
Bananas
Chocolate biscuits
Fanta cooled to room temperature
I even remembered to buy some plastic plates and spoons!
I think I might end with a quote from my journal now because I thought it summed the whole Hostelling In Sintra Experience quite well.
'....massive thanks to Nicola C for my lovely beanie. If only I had fingerless gloves to match, too boho for words. Tuna and baguettes in a chilly room, dressed like a homeless person, writing furiously in a genius-like manner. What a marvellous adventure this all is!'
(And to kill time until bedtime I started re-reading a book and drew a lovely picture of my shoe.)
Nicola v. Custard Tarts: 3-0
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I Am Eating Custard Tarts
Main Square, Lisbon, 4.49pm
The highlight of the past 24hrs has been....pasteis de nata! Yes! Portuguese custard tarts in their natural habitat! (My Dad is dying very loudly right now and probably talking about 'When he was in Rio..'.)
They are wonderful. Flaky pastry and dense, gooey custard and that burnt finish on top. I walked out of this internet cafe last night and there's a bakery next door with, I would say, approx 500 custard tarts in the window and I just couldn't help myself. Gotta get the culture into me, right?
I'd say there's a fair chance that once I finish up here now, I'll be trundling off to Cafe Nicola for another custard tart and a Nicola coffee, just to perk me up. Yes apparently Lisbon loves me as much as I love it - they have a very widely available brand of coffee called Nicola and there's a beautiful cafe in the square here called Nicola as well.
Today really took it out of me, especially after yesterday. I wanted to go and check out this market this morning, envisioning mounds of exotic and beautiful fruits, veggies, nuts, fish and meat. I think I got there a bit late. Apart from some wonderfully fresh looking fishies and one lone octopus, everything else looked like it had been seriously cleaned out - early. Never mind! Off to a gallery I go!
Except that they'd closed off the street for the bus I wanted to film something very odd looking with people sitting in car seats on the ground for about an entire block. Not to worry, found the bus, got on it and guessed accurately where to get off.
Just a brief note about Lisbon and it's signposts. They don't have many. They seem to think one sign about 1km before the place is ample warning and direction. Also, it seems Lisbonians are not into art. There were maybe six people in that gallery, and eight in the next one I went to. A crisp winter's day is not the time for wistful gallery wanderings apparently.
The second gallery I went to had a cool name - Fundacao Caloustan Gulbenkian (I think), but it was about a gazillion miles from anywhere and I had to walk for ages to get there. Plus both the galleries were chock full of religious art, gee whiz how delightful. My favourite was the one where I was staring at it trying to work out what was going on when I checked the title. 'The Circumcision'. Aah, that old chestnut. I also feel a bit sorry for St Catherine, whatever she did, because she ended up having her head cut off in a nasty fashion and apparently her neck sprayed white and yellow stuff all over the ground. Charming.
Anyway, am off to Sintra tomorrow to swan about the palaces and gardens. Plus it's my first night in a Continental hostel. Goody. Although right now, I'd kill for a conversation with anyone, so perhaps in a hostel I'll get that.
The highlight of the past 24hrs has been....pasteis de nata! Yes! Portuguese custard tarts in their natural habitat! (My Dad is dying very loudly right now and probably talking about 'When he was in Rio..'.)
They are wonderful. Flaky pastry and dense, gooey custard and that burnt finish on top. I walked out of this internet cafe last night and there's a bakery next door with, I would say, approx 500 custard tarts in the window and I just couldn't help myself. Gotta get the culture into me, right?
I'd say there's a fair chance that once I finish up here now, I'll be trundling off to Cafe Nicola for another custard tart and a Nicola coffee, just to perk me up. Yes apparently Lisbon loves me as much as I love it - they have a very widely available brand of coffee called Nicola and there's a beautiful cafe in the square here called Nicola as well.
Today really took it out of me, especially after yesterday. I wanted to go and check out this market this morning, envisioning mounds of exotic and beautiful fruits, veggies, nuts, fish and meat. I think I got there a bit late. Apart from some wonderfully fresh looking fishies and one lone octopus, everything else looked like it had been seriously cleaned out - early. Never mind! Off to a gallery I go!
Except that they'd closed off the street for the bus I wanted to film something very odd looking with people sitting in car seats on the ground for about an entire block. Not to worry, found the bus, got on it and guessed accurately where to get off.
Just a brief note about Lisbon and it's signposts. They don't have many. They seem to think one sign about 1km before the place is ample warning and direction. Also, it seems Lisbonians are not into art. There were maybe six people in that gallery, and eight in the next one I went to. A crisp winter's day is not the time for wistful gallery wanderings apparently.
The second gallery I went to had a cool name - Fundacao Caloustan Gulbenkian (I think), but it was about a gazillion miles from anywhere and I had to walk for ages to get there. Plus both the galleries were chock full of religious art, gee whiz how delightful. My favourite was the one where I was staring at it trying to work out what was going on when I checked the title. 'The Circumcision'. Aah, that old chestnut. I also feel a bit sorry for St Catherine, whatever she did, because she ended up having her head cut off in a nasty fashion and apparently her neck sprayed white and yellow stuff all over the ground. Charming.
Anyway, am off to Sintra tomorrow to swan about the palaces and gardens. Plus it's my first night in a Continental hostel. Goody. Although right now, I'd kill for a conversation with anyone, so perhaps in a hostel I'll get that.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I Am Here
Main Square, Lisbon, 5.17pm
I am not only here, in Lisbon, I have been out and about successfully! Now is probably the time to tell you all that my greatest concern on this trip, was literally getting out of my hotel and onto the street, onto public transport and into museums, etc. I have a tendency to freak out and worry OBSESSIVELY about doing this, but my sensible was right and it was a piece of cake!
And what exactly did I do today with my trusty day ticket for public transport? I made my way from my hotel down to the Praça do Comercio, a big plaza at the very bottom of the city, on the water. Unfortunately the middle of it was all being renovated (or something) so I ended up chucking laps around the whole thing (massive) about four times to finally sort myself out.
Then I hopped on a bus up to Castelo San Jorge which was TOTALLY COOL! I kept hoping I'd stumble on an archer in one of the little windows up around the top, or King Arthur and Guinevere in the turret, pashing in front of the beautiful view. Considering there are no buildings in Australia that are older than approx 200yrs, a real castle from about one thousand years ago is mindblowing. (Please everyone bear in mind this is just my first day and yes I'm sure the really really old shit will get, well, old, but for now - SO COOL!)
After the Castelo, I hopped on a tram to go to some church to see dead people's tombs (including the dude who discovered Brazil), except I was having such a great time going up these crazy streets that were extremely narrow and full of tiled buildings and balconies, that I didn't notice where I was meant to get off and ended up doing the return trip. Never mind!
After lunch I went east of the centre to Belem where there's a big garden with Jeronimo's Monastery along one side and the Tower of Belem down on the waterfront on the opposite side. All wonderful, especially with lots of sunshine and wintery freshness.
Actually the thing I'm having bucketloads of trouble with is leaving behind daylight savings. It got to 3pm and the sun was seriously headed for the off switch and I was thinking it should be about 8pm! But today was one of those gorgeous winter days that I love, blue blue sky and nice nippy air.
Tomorrow - the market and the Museum of Contemporary Art.
I am not only here, in Lisbon, I have been out and about successfully! Now is probably the time to tell you all that my greatest concern on this trip, was literally getting out of my hotel and onto the street, onto public transport and into museums, etc. I have a tendency to freak out and worry OBSESSIVELY about doing this, but my sensible was right and it was a piece of cake!
And what exactly did I do today with my trusty day ticket for public transport? I made my way from my hotel down to the Praça do Comercio, a big plaza at the very bottom of the city, on the water. Unfortunately the middle of it was all being renovated (or something) so I ended up chucking laps around the whole thing (massive) about four times to finally sort myself out.
Then I hopped on a bus up to Castelo San Jorge which was TOTALLY COOL! I kept hoping I'd stumble on an archer in one of the little windows up around the top, or King Arthur and Guinevere in the turret, pashing in front of the beautiful view. Considering there are no buildings in Australia that are older than approx 200yrs, a real castle from about one thousand years ago is mindblowing. (Please everyone bear in mind this is just my first day and yes I'm sure the really really old shit will get, well, old, but for now - SO COOL!)
After the Castelo, I hopped on a tram to go to some church to see dead people's tombs (including the dude who discovered Brazil), except I was having such a great time going up these crazy streets that were extremely narrow and full of tiled buildings and balconies, that I didn't notice where I was meant to get off and ended up doing the return trip. Never mind!
After lunch I went east of the centre to Belem where there's a big garden with Jeronimo's Monastery along one side and the Tower of Belem down on the waterfront on the opposite side. All wonderful, especially with lots of sunshine and wintery freshness.
Actually the thing I'm having bucketloads of trouble with is leaving behind daylight savings. It got to 3pm and the sun was seriously headed for the off switch and I was thinking it should be about 8pm! But today was one of those gorgeous winter days that I love, blue blue sky and nice nippy air.
Tomorrow - the market and the Museum of Contemporary Art.
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