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