Obidos and Farewell

Today was our last full day in Portugal.  Tomorrow we fly to the USA.  We had two included events, the first in the morning.  We drove out to suburban Obidos.  For me and I think for Ruth as well as some of the others, this could have been skipped. It isn’t that I felt I needed more time in Lisbon but that it was a pretty drive to a small, cobbled, walled city with a steep uphill climb to see the exterior of a castle and a view of mostly just the highway below. And Shopping! The one street we were supposed to stay on was shop after shop where Nina encouraged us to support the local economy.  I feel I did that by just showing up in Portugal.  Have I become cynical?  

I will say that one of the best living statues I have ever seen was here. A ‘young girl’ perched on a wall and was all in silver costume and paint to look like a statue.  She moved in a repetitious mechanical fashion that made her actually seem like a wind up doll.  There were some very good street musician splaying guitar and singing.  Oddly, a lady who appeared to be their mother sat close by to each and watched the collection.  An officer warned Nina about pickpockets.  We are always conscious of that when we travel even to big cities in the States.  Crowds will almost always = pickpocket possibilities.  But with this special warning, they must have been busy today.

It was a nice day for a stroll and soon Nina was collecting our VOX radios on the bus for the ride back to the city.  She and the driver were friends and chatted the whole way.  I think she figured the tour was over!

Back in the city we enjoyed our lunch while our phones charged.  Ruth and I then took the map and made our way toward the Avenida da Liberdade.  This parkway was created after the 1755 earthquake as a Passeio Publico even though passage of ordinary people was barred. The high walls and gates excluded you and me as we would not have been of the high society or royal persuasion.  With the liberal revolution of 1821 these impediments were pulled down and it is indeed the avenue representing liberation.

Many monuments are placed at the beginning and end of each grassy section dividing the promenade. Some are of heroes as late as World War I as Portugal always sided with the Allies and the United States but did not become involved in WWII.  The street has a central lawn with a tiled walkway on either side.  Cafes and Kiosks selling food, newspapers, and souvenirs are along these.  Then on either side of those is a broad street making for one way traffic.  Next to that is the ordinary, but tiled, wide sidewalk fronting high end merchants.  Here you find boutique hotels and high end shopping; Prada, Michael Kors, Louboutin and others.  After about four short blocks there is a cross traffic street and another statue.  The titles of the statues indication who the person is and why he is there is spelled out with black cobbles amid the grey stones.

This is not my photo but I love the feel of it which is the feeling I had as I walked along this historic and iconic street.  A step back in time if you ignore the traffic!

 

Soon it was time to make our way back to the hotel.  On the way over a young lady helped us make all the right turns and was very friendly.  We were still in the Baixa District which is where our hotel was conveniently located.  We took a different route home and it was very much for locals only.  Lots of dusty construction, narrow streets with vans blocking traffic and strange characters made it most interesting.

Once we safely arrived we made sure our bags were in order for the next day’s travel and dressed for our Farewell Dinner.  Our bus took us a distance from the hotel into what no longer looked like a touristy section of town.  Here in a small restaurant on a back ally we were treated to a Fado performance while we dined on roast pork which luckily had gravy on it since all the meats were cooked to be very dry. The one exception to this was a hamburger which we enjoyed at a small, local chain.  The Dors did not want pork and Dorcelia waited especially long for her plate of chicken to be placed before her.  Dorene took the proffered fish.  All during our trip Nina commented on the desserts and sweets.  She didn’t eat them because they were too sweet.  Our friend Marion who had been here before agreed.  I did not find them that way at all.  As I mentioned earlier we added powdered sugar and cinnamon to one of them to give it a boost.  Tonight we had a delicious Flan but it was oddly served with ice cream on the plate. I was lucky, Dorene didn’t want her Flan so I was delighted to eat it for her.  Wine flowed but Ruth said it wasn’t even as good as her 99 cent bottle.

I was disappointed in the Fado show.  On the bus earlier in the week we had listened to the kind of music defined as Fado and it seemed solemn and forlorn.  Nina had explained that typically is a story of heartbreak and loneliness, kind of like our own country music but very somber.  What we heard seemed lively and cheerful. This restaurant and show was definitely a family affair and the mother, daughter, and father all performed.  Two men played the music.  One with the very unique Fado guitar and the other what the Portuguese call a Viola Guitar.  It is sort of a fat or wide version of our acoustic guitar.  They played quite well and we had a good view of them from our raised dining platform for the six o’clock dinner show.  The tables on the main floor were set and before we had left a tour arrived for the eight p.m. performance.  This group had a completely different menu judging by what was on their plate.  And their show included a lady playing the accordion and dressed in what looked to be a Polish costume.  I know this because I encountered her in the bathroom.  It was a bit of a strange evening.

Back at the hotel we left only the pajamas we were wearing and our clothes for the flight home out of our suitcases.  Ruth and I both like to not be scrambling to pack in the morning before moving on.  Although our flight was not until five to one we were leaving for the airport at nine.  Nina is going to stay with us until the security stop because she says it is a tricky place to fly out of.

Sintra Revisited

In the spring, Elva and I sailed to England to join a tour of Wales.  You may remember that we had one day in Lisbon then and we chose to go to Sintra.  Perhaps a mistake since it was the anniversary of the 1974 Carnation Revolution and parades and parties were everywhere in town.  We didn’t know.  At that time another visit was not in the works.  Also on that vast we only toured the town and did not have time to go to the Pena Palace.  So this time, making sure the Palace was on the agenda, Ruth and I booked the optional tour.

I am so very glad we did.  Sintra is a suburb of the 2 million plus metro Lisbon city.  Green lushness and cool mountains are a striking contrast to the heat and congestion of the urban area. Palacio National de Pena is a must see when you are nearby.  The fairy tale summer residences of Portugal’s Kings and Queens is a mix of Moorish and Medieval architecture, as are many of the old town highlights.  It was a respite and sanctuary from the summer heat.  When last I was there we went by way of the scenic Estoril Coast stopping in Cascais, but this time we drove right through the heart of Lisbon during rush hour traffic which was mercifully heading into town.  Still there were backups on our side of the road.

Once we reach the Sintra environs we did not drive through the city, busses cannot.  The curving road with many hairpin turns were designed for horses not 30 passenger coaches!   If everyone had chosen to go I am not sure a larger bus would have managed.  Once we reached a drop off area at the entrance we once again climbed a hill to a tram stop.  We all, 28, crammed onto the standing room only space of the open top green transport.  After leaving that we walked, up, up, up to the palace entrance and climbed up a further ramp to the second level.

Here Nina met us after taking the injured Alex and some others to an elevator. The domicile was constructed in the mid-19^th century by Ferdinand Saxe-Coburg-Gotha who as King of Portugal was known as Dom Fernando II.  The ‘artist king’ was much like his cousin Prince Albert of England, Victoria’s husband and loved nature, art and new inventions.  All is encompassed here.  The childlike exuberance of the palace is evident at first glance.  Inside it remains much as it was when still the residence of the family.  The extravagant, elegant Palace of Pena was finally completed in 1885 and coincided with Fernando’s death.  He did not see his lifelong dream completed.

Inside the bright pink, or yellow, or red towers which are either round, or square or both, there is a collection of original and reproduction furniture that is stunning.  My favorite was the enormous two part, traveling secretary.  The golden drawers and doors all locked and many with different keys!  Much of the trompe l’oeil wallpaper was painted by the King himself.  Ornate sculptures might be marble or faux marble.  Rooms with beautiful wood paneling have no wood in them at all.  Heavy mahogany furniture is balanced by delicate Dresden figurines. It is simply a stunning must see when you are in the neighborhood!

Montserrat (of Portugal) is crowned by the magnificent toyland structure but the gardens below are equally amazing. We viewed the English gardens from above but did not have time in a half day tour to walk through them.  Refreshing enough was the mountain itself with trees of full growth and wide variety. The Parque de Pena surrounds the palace and hides the chalet the Dom had built for his second and last wife Elise Hensler.  This American Opera singer followed Dona Maria II of Germany.  Elise inherited this palace and forced the disappointed children to buy it back from her.  This was true of several palaces, convents, and gardens.  I think she must have been a really good singer, don’t you!

We would have liked to stay longer and explored more but many wanted to for sure see the town.  Since I had seen that before I led our little group of four to the patio of the church where we sat on the wall, away from all the hubbub, to enjoy a quiet lunch.  Then it was already time to return to Lisbon.

In the afternoon there was an optional tour of the Baixa district.  After taking an hour to regroup and recharge of phones/cameras Dorene, Dorcelia, Ruth, and I set out on our own with our map to explore this district as our hotel sat right at the top of it.  We walked the cobbled street past cafes and shops.  On the main street there were ‘living statues’ much like on Las Ramblas, in Barcelona.  One was especially good.  A cavalier who then posed with the Dors.  A bride statue was really bad at it.  Never stopped moving.  I imagine it is a hot and boring job, especially when the excellent gentleman is just beyond you and in line of sight!

Beyond the arch that marks the beginning of Praca do Comercio the broad plaza has been returned to some of its importance and is no longer a parking lot.  It is here that the palace of Lisbon once stood right at the edge of the Tagus River in the glory days before the earthquake of 1755.  Now The Atlantic is farther downstream and the land has been level.  The new constructions on three sides of the square were warehouses and offices for international trading.  Now they are mainly offices for very type of business.  Skateboarders practiced their skills, and most need a lot of practice, horse drawn carriages invite you to ride as do the tuk-tuks.  We walked along the river’s edge and spotted the Silhouette docked right where it had been las April.   Ruth pointed out the forward cabin they had below the bridge while Elva and I had been in the center aft balcony.   No, we weren’t all on it at the same time.

I would have loved spend more time in the warm October sun, watch the small boats go by and see the children playing.  To stroll along some more and contemplate how fortunate I am to be able to travel, see new places, experience new things and to make new friends. But we were getting hungry so made our way back along different streets and alleys. Dorene likes to shop and was looking for the wine with which the hotel had welcomed us.  I was fascinated by being on a street that had a hint of 7^th Avenue in New York’s Garment District.  A shop of just buttons, or laces, or fabric, or yarn.  Bridal shops and knock off shops right across the street.  So much fun to see and wander through.

Somewhere along the way we lost track of the girls and headed back on our own.  It is easy to navigate the parallel streets and recognize the parks and squares in only one visit.  Our hotel name shown above the builds in Figures Square so was easy to find.  We had thought the four of us would dine out together as a sort of celebration but we did not meet up again.  After a while when we hadn’t heard from them we decided to go to the Rooftop Bar for a drink and a good view of the Castle Sao Jorge as the daylight faded and city lights began to sparkle. Some buildings even already had their Christmas decorations lit.

We set out for the adventure of finding the rooftop.  It was on 8 and 9!  We got off the elevator on eight but after going in each direction, did not find an entrance so we went up to nine.  Again, although by the elevator there was an arrow pointing, in one case in both directions, we did not find a door or staircase labeled Rooftop Bar.  We went through an open Emergency Exit and believe it or not, that was the entrance to a stair case that went up another flight to the 360° view from the roof of the Hotel Mondial.  No seating was available so we went around a couple of corners and found a couch with a beautiful view of the castle which I then photographed so that Ruth and I could pretend it was a crown.  I did this, and my Vodka Gimlet, tall with ice, wasn’t even served yet!

The warm breezy summery night was perfect for looking back over the journey we have been on.  As always all the people are very nice most of the time.  This group was exceptional in that only twice was anyone late to the bus.  One group was shopping and another misunderstood the departure time because it was so different from every other day.

After about an hour we reluctantly went down to nine to go to the Rooftop Restaurant.  We didn’t eat there because they wouldn’t be open for nine more minutes and they didn’t want us to wait at the door.  Weird.  Down on one we had dinner in the Restaurant Jardim.  It wasn’t a garden although it did have a potted plant to one side.  The staff was the rudest of anywhere I have been for dinner in what should have been a nice place. But the food, the food was indeed adequate!  

We were one of only two tables of people and were seated by the kitchen door.  I commented I would prefer not to be there.  The maître D’ said. “Oh no, Madam that is not the kitchen.”  He would not seat us elsewhere.  As the restaurant got more customers coming in and we could see tables for four by the window with two people.  In one case they never looked up from their phones for the view, each on their own device. And the door - it opened and closed continually as waiters brought the dishes from the kitchen.  Next to this door was a large window where Ruth spent the evening watching the chefs cook!  When the meal was over the waiter came and said, “Are you done?”  He began to take up the plates.  Then as he turned to leave, as an afterthought, he asked did we want dessert. No, we did not.  We wanted to be away from here as fast as possible.  We had waited so long for our food that we almost left before it was served, and it was not well prepared.  Most of the Portuguese food we found to be not seasoned even with salt!

We listened to music back in our room and YouTubed old songs by certain artists that had come up during our walks and talks.  Read our books, laughed a lot, and went to sleep.