Portugal (and Spain—blog coming soon)—fell in love with the world
and with life a little bit more in these two countries—just the wonder of
connectivity between old friends and new friends and gathering in
community. I’ve actually been avoiding
writing about these two countries because I’m not quite sure how to put it all
in to words. Joy, wonder, gratitude, and
appreciation begin to capture a bit of what I was feeling; definitely in the flow and in awe of all of
the grace, connections and experiences.
Portugal—The first day I headed out on a bus into town with
Kate and Katie. We passed through downtown
(which we didn’t know at the time), going further on the bus, not entirely sure
of where we were going (none of us had a map) and we totally overshot the main
city by several miles. We finally saw a
sign for the Oceanarium and decided to do that.
It was beautiful and like kind of like fish-therapy—one huge tank full
of amazing sea-life, with side exhibits of sea turtles and otters and frogs and
squid and jellyfish and all sorts of miraculous animals. We all moved at our own pace, leapfrogging
from room to room and taking a series of fun photos of one another. One of the
quotes at the aquarium, as we stared up above us at the fish essentially
flying/floating over our heads (it was a huge 3 story tank)—“look at that fish,
it’s floating!” Simple, but awesome. After an unexpected four hours (four hours!!)
at the aquarium, we stopped by the museum café where I got a sweet roll sandwich
with kind of a center of coconut macaroon on top and ham in cheese inside—definitely
different and definitely delicious. It
was also time for some caffeine, so I got a café nocciola, which turned out to
be coffee with a spoonful of Nutella at the base—my big question is why do we
not have this in the states? From the aquarium
we wandered outside and bumped into Jacques, Emily, Brett, Kai, and some cool
students, two of whom were generous enough to pass over some maps to us, and we
headed over to the adjacent cable cars which soared alongside the shore of the river/ocean. Once we landed, we tried to get in to a new
fancy hotel with what looked like the most spectacular view from the top-floor
restaurant, but after several failed attempts we realized that the hotel wasn’t
open yet—the grand opening was supposed to be the following day. We swung over to a walkway full of
restaurants and stopped in at “Status” for a quick drink and appetizer, where
we met the friendly Miguel. There’s an
ongoing joke now about me & waiters—apparently I have a tendency to not set
off their gaydar so my friendliness apparently comes across as flirty-ness. This has resulted in several instances of
after-dinner aperitifs and in one notable case, a heart-shaped lollipop; however, I’d be a bit more happy if this was
the effect I had on the waitresses.
Well, we didn’t need any free drinks at Status because it was happy hour—buy
one pitcher and get one free. We spent a
bit of time there chatting with Miguel, who learned we were heading to Cadiz
after Portugal—his comment about Spanish—“it sounds like they talk with
potatoes in their mouths” (actually, sometimes he was totally right about that,
comparing the sound of the languages as spoken regionally). As evening was falling, we took the cable car
back , wandered back to the bus and back to the ship to re-group for
dinner. We headed back out, walking
towards the bridge because we heard we were about 10 minutes from a great area
with great restaurants. About 30 minutes
later, we asked for directions and finally made our way there. Then ensued the dance of where do we eat, we’re
all flexible, maybe there is something better just down the way, uh-oh it’s
almost 10pm and the beginnings of hangry are coming on (so hungry people start
to get grumpy/angry) although it was more a combo of hungry/tired. We ended up eating at a locals place, where
after much negotiating and translating, we ordered dinner. About 45 seconds later, it dawned on us that
we had actually just all ordered basically steak on a bun—not quite a hamburger—with
fries. We treated ourselves to a cab
back to the ship.
The next day was a marathon of Lisboa—everywhere we turned
was beautiful and it was hard to pick a direction. Katie and I wandered the
city beginning by sharing some custards at a pastry store with other Semester
at Sea staff & their partners (Mary & Mickey, Joe & Greg). We stopped at a vintage port shop (actually,
a wine shop, delicatessen, and chocolate shop—amazing), Manuel Tavares, where
the very friendly proprietor gave us a tasting of very flavorful varieties of
port (several of which made it into our bags).
She described living in Lisboa for over 15 years and how she loved it
because each day she found a new way to go and something new to discover in the
city. After this we popped onto Tram 28
and followed it to the end of the line and back—jumping off to have a great late
lunch at the top by St. George’s castle, where we tried Ginja, a liquor made of
a type of cherry-berry (ice helped it, glad we tried it, don’t need to try
again), catching up on the street with Kate, wandering some more amongst the
tiled buildings overlooking the tiled roofs and the river and bridges. Kate headed back to the ship for dinner,
while Katie and I continued on up to St. George’s to watch the sunset. The day just kept on layering amazing beauty
upon amazing beauty, everywhere I turned beauty unfolded. We walked up and up to the top of the hill
and we tried from several angles to find a place to watch the sunset; finally we realized that the best place was
actually from St. George’s castle, so we paid the 8 euros and wandered this
amazing, sprawling castle and park with spectacular views of all of the city. The castle itself had high walls which you
could reach by narrow stone stairs, and once on top, you could go even further
up to the turrets. We watched the sun
set from high on the castle walls. After
so much walking we paused for a moment sitting on the castle walls to just take
in the evening, and the lights began to dance on across the hills as twilight descended
and the moon rose. I set my camera out
to catch some night-time shots in the soft evening. Before we knew it, it was full on dark, and we
had a Fado performance to go to down the hill.
We had to find our way down the steep dark unlit castle stairs and through unlit,
dark and unmarked courtyards (yes, the park was still open, but the lights
weren’t on--surreal). Out of the park
and down through several narrow twisty streets, hopping in to a cab and getting
to the Fado restaurant (Pateo de Alfambra, recommended by Daniela Melo, one of
our Portuguese interport lecturers and a great person) for dinner and
performances of traditional dances and Fado. We caught back up with Kate,
Chris, Jen, Kierra, Keith and Renee for dinner here. I definitely enjoyed the
experience, and I was definitely feeling the Fado much more than the
traditional dances. Fado means “fate” in
Portuguese, and is sort of the bluesy longing torch-songs of Portugal. This
was one of the fullest days of my life which extended to one of the fullest
weeks of my life. As we wound through the streets after Fado, I asked what
people would write their own Fado song about—best answer, Kierra (one of the
amazing RD’s): “Oh. I would write my Fado song about being on
duty”.
The next day in Lisboa was simply more Lisboa exploration—wandering
around again on the trams, stopping for lunch at the top of one of the barrios,
doing a “Where’s Waldo” photoshoot, and then I wandered off on my own on foot
back down the alleys and streets to the main concourse, stopping for one last cappuccino
and some internet. As dean of students I
usually get back on ship two hours before official on-ship time; in Portugal is when I began to realize that
the last day in a port can be a bit scattered and overwhelming trying to get
all of the last little adventures in. Since then I’ve been changing the pace of the
last day to let it unfold better and less frantically. We then had a one day crossing to Spain which
was a 6 day stay (due to a change in itinerary), and it a continuation of an
emotional water-slide of joy, tapas, and connections. Still working on that post! Abrogada, abrogada, abrogada!
