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JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA -> LISBON, PORTUGAL
JUNE 12: JAX -> NYC JETBLUE 1678 5:30AM -> 7:47AM
JUNE 12: NYC -> DUB AER LINGUS 104 5:20PM -> 4:50AM
JUNE 13: DUB-> LIS AER LINGUS 486 7:00PM -> 9:45PM
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ACCOMODATIONS:
Hotel and AirBNB
Next up:
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--TRAVEL FROM LISBON TO PORTO BY TRAIN--
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Travel Log- June 12-14
Sights: Airports and voluminous clouds, Heart stopping tailgating, SO MANY RESTROOM LOCKS.
Sounds: Revving engines, roaring motors, snoring neighbors, gibberish
Smells: A melange of foods, cigarette smoke and carbon filled emissions
Tastes: Airplane and Airport food, my first pastel de nata, strange meaty items, death defying strong coffee
Feels: OMG I'M ACTUALLY DOING THIS.
OMG I'm ACTUALLY IN IRELAND.
OMG I'M ACTUALLY IN PORTUGAL
OMG I'VE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE.
OMG I COULD LIVE HERE FOREVER.
So here's the rundown. The plane trip was just. So. Exhausting. In ways I wouldn't have imagined. Mentally I was pooped. I have this nagging fear of falling oh, say, 36000 feet into a raging ocean storm to bwallowed up by crashing white water. Make that a calm ocean with the sun streaking through docile waves, dolphins merrily chortling as they watch me wail in fear and possibly a bit of rage against their Creator for letting this be my final curtain call. Or maybe the fall will be over a pastoral scene- munching moo cows ruminating on cud, gazing up at my (hopefully passed out from fear) body hurtling towards sweet alfalfa sprouts. Or maybe -- I think you get it. I have this thing about falling- not flying, not heights- that makes air travel not so fun for me.
Anyhow... The anxiety kept me from sleeping when I had planned to rest, during the overnight flight from NYC to Dublin. I got fitful rest at best, squished (and squishing) between two nice ladies on the Aer Lingus plane.
Ya'll- Living while fat is a pain but flying while large and lovely is a whole 'nother can of terrible. Planes are already designed to smush as many people as they can in a confined space (gotta get that money). Add to that my extra fluff and we have a recipe for uncomfortable trips and possibly even more uncomfortable encounters.
These plane rides, they were not so bad, though. I always ask for a seat belt extender when boarding- never know how if the straps will accommodate my girth- and I did so on all three flights. The cabin crew were kind, as usual. JAX to NYC I sat by another chubby chick so hey, neither one of us could really complain, I thought to myself. The seats were pretty spacious, thankfully, though I did need that extender. From NYC to DUB both ladies, as mentioned earlier, were nice as can be. They kind of scooted closer to the opposite side of my hips, roomier for them and me. The arm rest didn't go up though, and the seats were rather narrow so I was not super comfy. The seat belt was long enough, however... DUB to LIS was actually the worst flight, I think. I had no neighbor and sat by the window, but that's the only item in the plus column. The girl in front of me insisted on leaning the seat back- into my legs. I tried to adjust but after a bit it just wasn't working out so I asked her to move the seat forward. Even then, the leg room was astonishingly sparse so I was well and truly crammed into the seat.
At least the arm rest moved all the way up.
Ok, so I'm in Dublin! And it's COLD! not chilly but actually thinking about buying a light jacket or something cold! I should have checked the weather. I stayed in the airport in NYC- I was tired and unmotivated to trek into the city. I was determined to get out and see a bit of the Land of Eire, for I do not intend to do a solo trip to that land. Figured I'd let others do the work and snag a Hop On Hop Off tour bus ticket (now and forever more referred to as a HOHO). I took the top level on the bus. The drivers were so cavalier in their maneuvering that I was a bit alarmed, to say the least, as we careened in and out of traffic. It felt like we narrowly missed hitting mopeds, bipeds, bipeds who ped and quadpedd'd vehicles and lifeforms. I got to see a ceremony where the Lebanese Diplomat laid a wreath at the War Memorial in Merrion Square. Bagpipes and drums were playing some unknown traditional tune as the diplomat was hemmed in by Irish service, me and avid onlookers. I made a stop at the Museum of Natural History and the Gallery right by it, but missed the Museum of Archaeology. Had a plane to catch, after all. On to the main event!
So.... At this point, I'm in Lisbon, right? (Yeah, girl.) But guess what? (Girl, what?) This amazing lady hasn't bathed since Jax. June 11, 2019, 7pm. She's probably ripe. She can't tell though- the airports have duty free shopping and a sister spritzed lots of Flowerbomb at each stop. (that's my favorite scent, BTW-- I cannot get enough). She also swiped some moist 'freshen up' wipes from a Delta flight (don't tell on me) and wiped down as much as possible. She also hand laundered her drawers in an airport sink and dried them with the hand dryer.
Listen, I was getting desperate to feel like a lady.
(Why the madness, , woman?) Well, I checked my bags as the Jax gate thinking, "Ok, if they are a bit heavy for the Aer Lingus flight (limit was a whopping 22lbs), it won't be an issue since they won't be weighed."
Great plan in theory, not in practice.
I had my small adventure bag and packed my phone, passport case (thanks Court) and some other 'essentials'. Turned out all I would really want by hour 30 was a toothbrush, deodorant, some lotion and a fresh pair of drawers, all of which I ended up purchasing in Dublin at an outrageous airport mark up. Except for the drawers. You already know how that story ends.
One live and one learns.
Ok. So now I'm in Lisbon! I've made it to the promised land! I'm ready to shower and holy CRAP the little hotel DOESN'T HAVE HOT WATER. At least not that I could figure out. (Feels: Despair, betrayal, wanting a refund) I used some more Delta wipes and laid down in a firm but serviceable bed to finally rest. Haven't seen a bed in all this time, either.
I left the hotel the next the next morning and tried to find a little cafe for noms. On the way, I met Jose Lopez, an Afro- Portuguese man from Guinea Fasso. He wanted coffee and to gaze upon my 'pretty face and smile' (his eyes were jaundiced and/or bloodshot but he could see straight, heeeey). I don't drink coffee and didn't want to be bothered. He stuck with it though. Walked beside me for two blocks. I kept rebuffing. He relented.
Brandi- 1, Men of Portugal-0.
Found a cafe. The menu said carne asada, so I was looking forward to some nice roast beef, another one of my favorite things. Out comes this lady with what appeared to be pork loin cutlets- in an oddly sweet and mildly savory orangey sauce. Not my favorite thing ever. My combo included dessert so I pointed at something- The lady din't speak English and was too busy for me to use Google Translate. I picked rice pudding topped with cinnamon- what a treat! I was pretty happy about that choice til I understood what the other pudding like concoction was- the luscious treat called creme brulee. They torched it right in front of me. Mistake made, lesson learned, always ask for creme caramel.
Next up was an Uber to the AirBnB I am at for the duration of this leg of the journey. I put my stuff away and have had some persistent trouble with WiFi. I went to a McDonald's and pirated their free service, bought a couple things from the grocery store and headed back to my quarters to fruitlessly wrangle the Wifi connection. That's why I haven't been WhatsApping you back, folks. (she presumes they are steadily sending messages). I may have to do Skype as well since the small computer I brought (thanks Mom) does connect to the interwebz.
BTW, I got a hot shower. It only took 71 hours but now I'm clean and feeling fresh.
Now I sleep. I think I will get a 72 hour HOHO pass for Lisbon and just take in the sights for a while. Monday I am going to a Coloring and Cocktails party I found out about on MeetUp. Next Thursday I head to Porto for a few adventures. I think that may be my favorite piece of this trip, lots lined up!
Revelation- I miss speaking to people. Who knew I'd have that thought. Being in the language minority is more isolating than I thought it would be.
More later. Bye!
Sounds: Revving engines, roaring motors, snoring neighbors, gibberish
Smells: A melange of foods, cigarette smoke and carbon filled emissions
Tastes: Airplane and Airport food, my first pastel de nata, strange meaty items, death defying strong coffee
Feels: OMG I'M ACTUALLY DOING THIS.
OMG I'm ACTUALLY IN IRELAND.
OMG I'M ACTUALLY IN PORTUGAL
OMG I'VE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE.
OMG I COULD LIVE HERE FOREVER.
So here's the rundown. The plane trip was just. So. Exhausting. In ways I wouldn't have imagined. Mentally I was pooped. I have this nagging fear of falling oh, say, 36000 feet into a raging ocean storm to bwallowed up by crashing white water. Make that a calm ocean with the sun streaking through docile waves, dolphins merrily chortling as they watch me wail in fear and possibly a bit of rage against their Creator for letting this be my final curtain call. Or maybe the fall will be over a pastoral scene- munching moo cows ruminating on cud, gazing up at my (hopefully passed out from fear) body hurtling towards sweet alfalfa sprouts. Or maybe -- I think you get it. I have this thing about falling- not flying, not heights- that makes air travel not so fun for me.
Anyhow... The anxiety kept me from sleeping when I had planned to rest, during the overnight flight from NYC to Dublin. I got fitful rest at best, squished (and squishing) between two nice ladies on the Aer Lingus plane.
Ya'll- Living while fat is a pain but flying while large and lovely is a whole 'nother can of terrible. Planes are already designed to smush as many people as they can in a confined space (gotta get that money). Add to that my extra fluff and we have a recipe for uncomfortable trips and possibly even more uncomfortable encounters.
These plane rides, they were not so bad, though. I always ask for a seat belt extender when boarding- never know how if the straps will accommodate my girth- and I did so on all three flights. The cabin crew were kind, as usual. JAX to NYC I sat by another chubby chick so hey, neither one of us could really complain, I thought to myself. The seats were pretty spacious, thankfully, though I did need that extender. From NYC to DUB both ladies, as mentioned earlier, were nice as can be. They kind of scooted closer to the opposite side of my hips, roomier for them and me. The arm rest didn't go up though, and the seats were rather narrow so I was not super comfy. The seat belt was long enough, however... DUB to LIS was actually the worst flight, I think. I had no neighbor and sat by the window, but that's the only item in the plus column. The girl in front of me insisted on leaning the seat back- into my legs. I tried to adjust but after a bit it just wasn't working out so I asked her to move the seat forward. Even then, the leg room was astonishingly sparse so I was well and truly crammed into the seat.
At least the arm rest moved all the way up.
Ok, so I'm in Dublin! And it's COLD! not chilly but actually thinking about buying a light jacket or something cold! I should have checked the weather. I stayed in the airport in NYC- I was tired and unmotivated to trek into the city. I was determined to get out and see a bit of the Land of Eire, for I do not intend to do a solo trip to that land. Figured I'd let others do the work and snag a Hop On Hop Off tour bus ticket (now and forever more referred to as a HOHO). I took the top level on the bus. The drivers were so cavalier in their maneuvering that I was a bit alarmed, to say the least, as we careened in and out of traffic. It felt like we narrowly missed hitting mopeds, bipeds, bipeds who ped and quadpedd'd vehicles and lifeforms. I got to see a ceremony where the Lebanese Diplomat laid a wreath at the War Memorial in Merrion Square. Bagpipes and drums were playing some unknown traditional tune as the diplomat was hemmed in by Irish service, me and avid onlookers. I made a stop at the Museum of Natural History and the Gallery right by it, but missed the Museum of Archaeology. Had a plane to catch, after all. On to the main event!
So.... At this point, I'm in Lisbon, right? (Yeah, girl.) But guess what? (Girl, what?) This amazing lady hasn't bathed since Jax. June 11, 2019, 7pm. She's probably ripe. She can't tell though- the airports have duty free shopping and a sister spritzed lots of Flowerbomb at each stop. (that's my favorite scent, BTW-- I cannot get enough). She also swiped some moist 'freshen up' wipes from a Delta flight (don't tell on me) and wiped down as much as possible. She also hand laundered her drawers in an airport sink and dried them with the hand dryer.
Listen, I was getting desperate to feel like a lady.
(Why the madness, , woman?) Well, I checked my bags as the Jax gate thinking, "Ok, if they are a bit heavy for the Aer Lingus flight (limit was a whopping 22lbs), it won't be an issue since they won't be weighed."
Great plan in theory, not in practice.
I had my small adventure bag and packed my phone, passport case (thanks Court) and some other 'essentials'. Turned out all I would really want by hour 30 was a toothbrush, deodorant, some lotion and a fresh pair of drawers, all of which I ended up purchasing in Dublin at an outrageous airport mark up. Except for the drawers. You already know how that story ends.
One live and one learns.
Ok. So now I'm in Lisbon! I've made it to the promised land! I'm ready to shower and holy CRAP the little hotel DOESN'T HAVE HOT WATER. At least not that I could figure out. (Feels: Despair, betrayal, wanting a refund) I used some more Delta wipes and laid down in a firm but serviceable bed to finally rest. Haven't seen a bed in all this time, either.
I left the hotel the next the next morning and tried to find a little cafe for noms. On the way, I met Jose Lopez, an Afro- Portuguese man from Guinea Fasso. He wanted coffee and to gaze upon my 'pretty face and smile' (his eyes were jaundiced and/or bloodshot but he could see straight, heeeey). I don't drink coffee and didn't want to be bothered. He stuck with it though. Walked beside me for two blocks. I kept rebuffing. He relented.
Brandi- 1, Men of Portugal-0.
Found a cafe. The menu said carne asada, so I was looking forward to some nice roast beef, another one of my favorite things. Out comes this lady with what appeared to be pork loin cutlets- in an oddly sweet and mildly savory orangey sauce. Not my favorite thing ever. My combo included dessert so I pointed at something- The lady din't speak English and was too busy for me to use Google Translate. I picked rice pudding topped with cinnamon- what a treat! I was pretty happy about that choice til I understood what the other pudding like concoction was- the luscious treat called creme brulee. They torched it right in front of me. Mistake made, lesson learned, always ask for creme caramel.
Next up was an Uber to the AirBnB I am at for the duration of this leg of the journey. I put my stuff away and have had some persistent trouble with WiFi. I went to a McDonald's and pirated their free service, bought a couple things from the grocery store and headed back to my quarters to fruitlessly wrangle the Wifi connection. That's why I haven't been WhatsApping you back, folks. (she presumes they are steadily sending messages). I may have to do Skype as well since the small computer I brought (thanks Mom) does connect to the interwebz.
BTW, I got a hot shower. It only took 71 hours but now I'm clean and feeling fresh.
Now I sleep. I think I will get a 72 hour HOHO pass for Lisbon and just take in the sights for a while. Monday I am going to a Coloring and Cocktails party I found out about on MeetUp. Next Thursday I head to Porto for a few adventures. I think that may be my favorite piece of this trip, lots lined up!
Revelation- I miss speaking to people. Who knew I'd have that thought. Being in the language minority is more isolating than I thought it would be.
More later. Bye!
Travel Log- June 15-18
Sights: too many to recall! Monuments, views for days
Sounds: Trams, many languages
Smells: Odd scents, decay, the ocean, orange
Tastes: Pastel do Belem, FRESH orange juice, Tosta Mista
Feels: I want to speak! Slight isolation, not lonely though
Ok! So I went full tourist and got my HOHO pass. It was through Grayline's Lisbon Sightseeing service. I bought the all inclusive ticket that included tours of Belem, a very nice area with high historical and political value, the Castle line which wound through the small streets of Bairro Alto and the old Alfama district, the Oriente line ( I think oriente is Portuguese for east...) which explored modern Lisbon, the Cascais line that whisked us away on a fabulous tour of the elite an prosperous Cascais and Estoril areas where monarchs and royalty vacationed and where the wealthy still play, and finally the Lisboat (<-love that word play) that took us around the coast to view Lisbon from the sea.
I started on the Castle Line, hoping to see.... castles. The thing is, castles and palaces are different. I did not know that. So the castles are mostly large buildings that take up a city block and housed royalty whereas palaces have the turrets and grand towers and what not. That distinction has been holding true so far. I got off the bus in Bairro Alto near a fantastic viewing spot, Miradouro Sao Pedro de Alcantara.
The other lines were supreme like the castle line. The Belem Line took me to the renowned Pasteis de Belem, where the national treasure of a dessert, pastel de nata, originated. Now, I've had my fair share of these lil egg custard tarts and they're alright. I'm not as enamored as many others seem to be. I had the original ones at Pasteis de Belem, I had some from other random places and I like 'em, but I prefer them cold and with a touch of lemon, not warm and vanilla flavored as seems to be the custom. I also had the best fresh squeezed orange juice of my life at the bakery.
The Orient line took me through modern Lisbon, which was kind of dull to me, I'm not too keen on seeing more skyscrapers, we got those at home. The old town it my favorite bit of Lisbon. I did get a ride to the Columbo mall though- three stories of commercial worship for those who keep the religion of 'Stuff'. I'm being dramatic. I like to shop myself. It wasn't my favorite tour and I wish I had skipped it to spend more time on the Cascais tour.
Cascais! Oh my goodness, that place is lovely. Very upscale, which is alright but the beaches and natural landscape had me shook. I have to go back and see Boca de Inferno and chill out on the beach.
Um, lets talk about the views.
So, I just looked through my photos and videos. They don't do justice to this place. I wish you were here to experience the loveliness of the city.... if not right along side me, than at the same time, ya know? I solo travel for a reason. I love being the final say in what I do for the day, when I get up, when I go to bed, where I take my meals, etc. It's 'lonely' in the sense that I have to enjoy all this splendor by myself, I have found myself thinking, "Gee, I wish ______ were here to see this! Ha, so and so would think this is a hoot! Oh, that reminds me of whomever," and that is kind of sad, I guess, but I really feel comfortable with ME. I'm enjoying this time of being single, celibate and childless. I want to embrace this 'selfish' season as long as it is mine to have/bear/enjoy/endure.
That kind of puts me in the mind of contemplating whether or not I 'deserve' this trip. In the back of my mind there is the nagging thought that I should do something else with my money and dedicate more of my time to this or that cause. The lingering guilt of enjoying me has been fading as the previous school year grows smaller, dimmer in the distance, but it still pulls at the corners of my mind. To quell such disheartening ideas, I remind myself of the following:
1. I sacrificed 60+ hours most weeks during the school year.
2. I finished my commitment to TFA and to my placement school.
3. I paid off my credit cards and car.
4. I have had 2 or 3 jobs for more than a year.
5. I saved up the $xxxxx once and I can do it again.
6. .... What is the money for, if not to spend it at some point?
7. I have an emergency fund.
8. My life is passing NOW. I have permission to enjoy it NOW.
9. There is no 'perfect' time.
Ok, enough of the philosophical musings. Scroll on for pics and videos!
Sounds: Trams, many languages
Smells: Odd scents, decay, the ocean, orange
Tastes: Pastel do Belem, FRESH orange juice, Tosta Mista
Feels: I want to speak! Slight isolation, not lonely though
Ok! So I went full tourist and got my HOHO pass. It was through Grayline's Lisbon Sightseeing service. I bought the all inclusive ticket that included tours of Belem, a very nice area with high historical and political value, the Castle line which wound through the small streets of Bairro Alto and the old Alfama district, the Oriente line ( I think oriente is Portuguese for east...) which explored modern Lisbon, the Cascais line that whisked us away on a fabulous tour of the elite an prosperous Cascais and Estoril areas where monarchs and royalty vacationed and where the wealthy still play, and finally the Lisboat (<-love that word play) that took us around the coast to view Lisbon from the sea.
I started on the Castle Line, hoping to see.... castles. The thing is, castles and palaces are different. I did not know that. So the castles are mostly large buildings that take up a city block and housed royalty whereas palaces have the turrets and grand towers and what not. That distinction has been holding true so far. I got off the bus in Bairro Alto near a fantastic viewing spot, Miradouro Sao Pedro de Alcantara.
The other lines were supreme like the castle line. The Belem Line took me to the renowned Pasteis de Belem, where the national treasure of a dessert, pastel de nata, originated. Now, I've had my fair share of these lil egg custard tarts and they're alright. I'm not as enamored as many others seem to be. I had the original ones at Pasteis de Belem, I had some from other random places and I like 'em, but I prefer them cold and with a touch of lemon, not warm and vanilla flavored as seems to be the custom. I also had the best fresh squeezed orange juice of my life at the bakery.
The Orient line took me through modern Lisbon, which was kind of dull to me, I'm not too keen on seeing more skyscrapers, we got those at home. The old town it my favorite bit of Lisbon. I did get a ride to the Columbo mall though- three stories of commercial worship for those who keep the religion of 'Stuff'. I'm being dramatic. I like to shop myself. It wasn't my favorite tour and I wish I had skipped it to spend more time on the Cascais tour.
Cascais! Oh my goodness, that place is lovely. Very upscale, which is alright but the beaches and natural landscape had me shook. I have to go back and see Boca de Inferno and chill out on the beach.
Um, lets talk about the views.
So, I just looked through my photos and videos. They don't do justice to this place. I wish you were here to experience the loveliness of the city.... if not right along side me, than at the same time, ya know? I solo travel for a reason. I love being the final say in what I do for the day, when I get up, when I go to bed, where I take my meals, etc. It's 'lonely' in the sense that I have to enjoy all this splendor by myself, I have found myself thinking, "Gee, I wish ______ were here to see this! Ha, so and so would think this is a hoot! Oh, that reminds me of whomever," and that is kind of sad, I guess, but I really feel comfortable with ME. I'm enjoying this time of being single, celibate and childless. I want to embrace this 'selfish' season as long as it is mine to have/bear/enjoy/endure.
That kind of puts me in the mind of contemplating whether or not I 'deserve' this trip. In the back of my mind there is the nagging thought that I should do something else with my money and dedicate more of my time to this or that cause. The lingering guilt of enjoying me has been fading as the previous school year grows smaller, dimmer in the distance, but it still pulls at the corners of my mind. To quell such disheartening ideas, I remind myself of the following:
1. I sacrificed 60+ hours most weeks during the school year.
2. I finished my commitment to TFA and to my placement school.
3. I paid off my credit cards and car.
4. I have had 2 or 3 jobs for more than a year.
5. I saved up the $xxxxx once and I can do it again.
6. .... What is the money for, if not to spend it at some point?
7. I have an emergency fund.
8. My life is passing NOW. I have permission to enjoy it NOW.
9. There is no 'perfect' time.
Ok, enough of the philosophical musings. Scroll on for pics and videos!
I haven't been talking too much, seeing as not so many people speak my language/are willing to engage with me. I looked up a MeetUp and found a promising one hosted by the lovely Shireen. Coloring, cocktails and conversation was promised and delivered. The cocktail I indulged in is pictured above- Sunshine in a Cup, I think it's called. I have never had a better cocktail- sweet, tangy, not boozy but certainly buzzy and tall enough to be sipped on all evening, I couldn't ask for much more. I had a good time, met people from Singapore, Germany, The Netherlands, a Portuguese native Mexico and a Fellow American, an expat.
Talking to this lil hodge podge of humans shed some light on my privilege as an American. Our driving privileges are cheap to come by compared to some other places. I don't remember what the cost was for my license, but I know it was well under $60. In Portugal, the cost can be 500-800 Euro and in Germany, it's even more severe at close to 2000 Euro. Art thou kidding me? Plus they have to learn how to use a manual transmission (which I think is wise). Also, every single person at that table and the bartender all spoke English. Not broken, unintelligible mumbles but I'd say beyond conversational English. Idioms, little random sayings and sarcasm were used with ease.
All that to say, I wish I were skilled in another language. I know it's not too late. I wish learning another language were mandatory here in the states. What a boon that would be. I'm grateful to be adept at such a widely spoken tongue, but it seems like a particularly exhilarating freedom to be able to speak to others in their own tongue.
I made some art, connected with humans and got an invite to return when I'm in town again.
Today, the 18th, was a lazy laundry day in Lisbon. I have just been lounging and waiting for the laundry to dry. I really hope it's ready by tomorrow so I can do something! This was a nice day of rest, though. Alright, I don't have a plan as of yet, so I guess I'll stop these musings and make a plan. Buh Bye.
Talking to this lil hodge podge of humans shed some light on my privilege as an American. Our driving privileges are cheap to come by compared to some other places. I don't remember what the cost was for my license, but I know it was well under $60. In Portugal, the cost can be 500-800 Euro and in Germany, it's even more severe at close to 2000 Euro. Art thou kidding me? Plus they have to learn how to use a manual transmission (which I think is wise). Also, every single person at that table and the bartender all spoke English. Not broken, unintelligible mumbles but I'd say beyond conversational English. Idioms, little random sayings and sarcasm were used with ease.
All that to say, I wish I were skilled in another language. I know it's not too late. I wish learning another language were mandatory here in the states. What a boon that would be. I'm grateful to be adept at such a widely spoken tongue, but it seems like a particularly exhilarating freedom to be able to speak to others in their own tongue.
I made some art, connected with humans and got an invite to return when I'm in town again.
Today, the 18th, was a lazy laundry day in Lisbon. I have just been lounging and waiting for the laundry to dry. I really hope it's ready by tomorrow so I can do something! This was a nice day of rest, though. Alright, I don't have a plan as of yet, so I guess I'll stop these musings and make a plan. Buh Bye.
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Travel Log June 19-20
Awww snap. I waited a while to post this so..... let's see how much of my lil adventure I remember [insert smiley with the sweat drip here].
/me searches history and sparks memory/
Alright, so I ended up choosing to attempt riding the (in)famous Tram 28. Why the moniker? Well, the trams in Portugal were once plentiful and used by the locals to avoid climbing the hills on their daily voyages. Now, there are very few trams and they are overrun by tourists. The locals now lack a very important mode of transit. My first sighting of Tram 28 was very disenchanting- the people were crammed onto the tram like the oily fish that this country is know for. It was very off putting. I did some research and saw that a great way to ride the tram and possibly get a seat is to get on at the end of the route, Campo de Ourique, as opposed to the beginning of the route at Martim Moniz.
I didn't come up with that bit of wisdom, thanks Interwebz!
I trekked to the Campo de Ourique stop and didn't have to wait- the tram was there waiting for me! I hopped on, no line, no waiting and chose a seat. The ride was pleasant, if a bit congested. I enjoyed myself all the way up until the tram stopped. It stayed stopped for about 10 minutes before I looked up- the traffic was so bad that I really didn't think much of being stopped. Then I lookd up- the driver was gone! Now I'm concerned. I looked around out of the window, don't see him. Saw another passenger get on the tram with an espresso.... So I disembarked to check out the scene. Well. A bus was was stuck in the middle of an intersection. My tram driver and the driver from the tram in front of us along with a couple of police officers were crowded on the corner staring at the broken down vehicle, just lookin' and speaking Portuguese.
It's at this point that I chose to go find some breakfast.
I walked around the corner and find a random cafe- there are literally dozens of these tiny snack bars within a mile radius. It's crazy how many businesses can be sustained when people are walking in a city as opposed to driving everywhere. I wonder what the economy would look like around the US is we embraced more public transit options? I guess the layout of the city makes a huge difference though. Jax is spread out in a really horrendous way and we have bout 800-900 thousand people, I guess, where as Lisbon is a very compact city with 500,000 people.
I'm not an urban planner or economist. Just a common science teacher. enough armchair analysis,bBack to the recap.
I stopped at this cafe and have my favorite Portuguese food item at the moment- a tosta mista. It's just a ham and cheese panini but the bread is great, the cheese is melty and richly flavored and the bread is SUPERB. The sum is much greater than the delicious parts. In the ever present bakery box, I saw this delectable looking treat. I inquired, The shopkeep told me it's a 'tarte de nata'. I ordered one, it was SO GOOD. Please miss me with those pastel de nata, leave the pastel de Belem in the old tower of the same name and slide me a few of these TARTES. Ugh, lightly citrusy flavored, luscious filling and a great crust. I bought two for the road.
As I'm eating, I see my tram roll on down the street. Damn.
I left the shop and was really turned around- I don't know why I couldn't remember from which direction I had come, but there I was, not knowing what to do. So I start walking one way, than the other way, eventually picking a direction and venturing forth. I walked to the next stop and waited for the tram.... It was packed, sardine like. So was the next tram. The third one that came about was not so completely filled so I hopped on board and a few stops later I was able to sit after some people got off. The ride was ok- I'm glad I made the effort to get on board but The view wasn't supreme. It was really trippy to buzz through the narrow alleys of the Alfama region and Baixa Chiado while narrowly missing opposing trams, people and buildings.
At the Martim Moniz stop they kicked us off. I had already scoped out a bead shop that was in the vicinity so I started walking in that general direction. It took me a couple of hours to reach the shop- but I had the best time meandering and seeing some other sites that were on my list and finding a couple of sweet spots along the way.
First unexpected find was a used bookshop. I almost bough a tome but 18 euro for a used book? No thank you. I kept moving along and found this square at the convent of Carmo Ruins. I had forgotten the 'Lisbon under the Stars' event that is occurring while I will be in the city (yay!) I have to pick up my tickets when I get back. i wandered around he outside of the ruins and marveled at its glory.
Unexpectedly, the Santa Justa Lift was right beside the ruins. This was one of the spots on my list so I went ahead and took the narrow spiral stair case up to the top. Those stunning photos and videos you saw last week were courtesy of the lift. The summit was one of those places you want to stay forever but that's not practical, of course, so you leave with your memories intact and a bit of longing still in your heart.
Then I finally made it to the bead shop. I was a cute little shop, I wanted some sardine beads but the didn't have any that I loved so that didn't work out, but I picked up a few other but little beads. This is one of the few times I wish I had chosen to be really intentional about growing my jewelry business because then I could have dropped one of those Instagram posts with pics of the shop and teased with the caption, "Who wants me to do a limited edition Portugal line of jewelry? Drop a comment below!!" That's not my current reality and I'm ok with it.
Hmm, what else? I went home after that. On the 20th I made my way to Porto! Yasssss.
/me searches history and sparks memory/
Alright, so I ended up choosing to attempt riding the (in)famous Tram 28. Why the moniker? Well, the trams in Portugal were once plentiful and used by the locals to avoid climbing the hills on their daily voyages. Now, there are very few trams and they are overrun by tourists. The locals now lack a very important mode of transit. My first sighting of Tram 28 was very disenchanting- the people were crammed onto the tram like the oily fish that this country is know for. It was very off putting. I did some research and saw that a great way to ride the tram and possibly get a seat is to get on at the end of the route, Campo de Ourique, as opposed to the beginning of the route at Martim Moniz.
I didn't come up with that bit of wisdom, thanks Interwebz!
I trekked to the Campo de Ourique stop and didn't have to wait- the tram was there waiting for me! I hopped on, no line, no waiting and chose a seat. The ride was pleasant, if a bit congested. I enjoyed myself all the way up until the tram stopped. It stayed stopped for about 10 minutes before I looked up- the traffic was so bad that I really didn't think much of being stopped. Then I lookd up- the driver was gone! Now I'm concerned. I looked around out of the window, don't see him. Saw another passenger get on the tram with an espresso.... So I disembarked to check out the scene. Well. A bus was was stuck in the middle of an intersection. My tram driver and the driver from the tram in front of us along with a couple of police officers were crowded on the corner staring at the broken down vehicle, just lookin' and speaking Portuguese.
It's at this point that I chose to go find some breakfast.
I walked around the corner and find a random cafe- there are literally dozens of these tiny snack bars within a mile radius. It's crazy how many businesses can be sustained when people are walking in a city as opposed to driving everywhere. I wonder what the economy would look like around the US is we embraced more public transit options? I guess the layout of the city makes a huge difference though. Jax is spread out in a really horrendous way and we have bout 800-900 thousand people, I guess, where as Lisbon is a very compact city with 500,000 people.
I'm not an urban planner or economist. Just a common science teacher. enough armchair analysis,bBack to the recap.
I stopped at this cafe and have my favorite Portuguese food item at the moment- a tosta mista. It's just a ham and cheese panini but the bread is great, the cheese is melty and richly flavored and the bread is SUPERB. The sum is much greater than the delicious parts. In the ever present bakery box, I saw this delectable looking treat. I inquired, The shopkeep told me it's a 'tarte de nata'. I ordered one, it was SO GOOD. Please miss me with those pastel de nata, leave the pastel de Belem in the old tower of the same name and slide me a few of these TARTES. Ugh, lightly citrusy flavored, luscious filling and a great crust. I bought two for the road.
As I'm eating, I see my tram roll on down the street. Damn.
I left the shop and was really turned around- I don't know why I couldn't remember from which direction I had come, but there I was, not knowing what to do. So I start walking one way, than the other way, eventually picking a direction and venturing forth. I walked to the next stop and waited for the tram.... It was packed, sardine like. So was the next tram. The third one that came about was not so completely filled so I hopped on board and a few stops later I was able to sit after some people got off. The ride was ok- I'm glad I made the effort to get on board but The view wasn't supreme. It was really trippy to buzz through the narrow alleys of the Alfama region and Baixa Chiado while narrowly missing opposing trams, people and buildings.
At the Martim Moniz stop they kicked us off. I had already scoped out a bead shop that was in the vicinity so I started walking in that general direction. It took me a couple of hours to reach the shop- but I had the best time meandering and seeing some other sites that were on my list and finding a couple of sweet spots along the way.
First unexpected find was a used bookshop. I almost bough a tome but 18 euro for a used book? No thank you. I kept moving along and found this square at the convent of Carmo Ruins. I had forgotten the 'Lisbon under the Stars' event that is occurring while I will be in the city (yay!) I have to pick up my tickets when I get back. i wandered around he outside of the ruins and marveled at its glory.
Unexpectedly, the Santa Justa Lift was right beside the ruins. This was one of the spots on my list so I went ahead and took the narrow spiral stair case up to the top. Those stunning photos and videos you saw last week were courtesy of the lift. The summit was one of those places you want to stay forever but that's not practical, of course, so you leave with your memories intact and a bit of longing still in your heart.
Then I finally made it to the bead shop. I was a cute little shop, I wanted some sardine beads but the didn't have any that I loved so that didn't work out, but I picked up a few other but little beads. This is one of the few times I wish I had chosen to be really intentional about growing my jewelry business because then I could have dropped one of those Instagram posts with pics of the shop and teased with the caption, "Who wants me to do a limited edition Portugal line of jewelry? Drop a comment below!!" That's not my current reality and I'm ok with it.
Hmm, what else? I went home after that. On the 20th I made my way to Porto! Yasssss.