A multi-pronged Aug-Sep 2018 trip to Boston to visit Allie, then to Lisbon via Dublin to spend time in Portugal with Laurie, culminating in a return to Boston to meet Barb for a long weekend.
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Tuesday, August 28 – Lisbon
Rested and ready, we take on Lisbon. Laurie had taken a walking tour yesterday and had a general idea of the city, though she said the tour guide was not great and Laurie had only a rough idea of where they’d been. We take a taxi to the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Castle of St. George) which most of the guidebooks say is a good first stop because it gives you panoramic views of Lisbon. There’s a charge of Eu8 (Eu5 for seniors like Laurie) to enter and Laurie balks initially, but everyone says it’s the place to start. We repair to the cafe near the ticket office to think it over.
We get a nice breakfast snack of pastel de nata (the Lisbon pastry specialty) and quiche in the cafe near the ticket office. Both had lovely flaky crusts and put us in better, more courageous moods. We bought our tickets and spend an hour or so rambling around the castle walls taking in views of the city in all directions. As advertised, it’s a good first stop for an orientation to Lisbon. There’s not much inside the castle itself, which has been rebuilt and ruined many times over the centuries. The most recent renovations were the work of the nationalist Prime Minister Salazar (a fellow almost entirely erased from current Portugal, but whose shadow looms) in the 20th century and it functions mainly as a tourist site at this point.
After our ramble on the castle walls, we wander into the Alfama district, getting lost in the old Arab quarter streets as directed by Rick Steves and other tour books. We find the area around the Santa Luiza church and Portos do Sol with a nice view and lovely courtyard. We see the famous Route 28 trams come by jam-packed with tourists. Riding this route is described as one of the essential Lisbon tourist activities but it doesn’t look pleasant, especially to Laurie. Also, every single tourist book warns about pickpockets on the trams so we decide to give it a pass for the time being.
Overall, the downhill walk in the Alfalma reminds me of Porto, with winding little streets, many too small for cars. There are lots of places advertising fado, the distinctive Portuguese song style, but none are open at this time of day.
We had decided to target the Cervejaria Trinidade for lunch since it was well rated, historic and mentioned in several guidebooks. It was located in the neighborhood of Barrio Alto so we traversed the valley streets of Baixa and Chiado to get there. The neighborhoods in Lisbon are distinct and significant to locals, evidently, but are also small and cheek by jowl. This is both convenient and confusing for tourists as it’s hard to remember the neighborhood names or figure out when you’re in one versus another. It’s a nice stroll and the weather is cooperating in the 70s with clouds so I didn’t sweat too profusely, though we passed an enterprising tuk-tuk driver who suggested we take a ride because “you look tired already” at about 12:30 in the afternoon.
Baixa is the downtown heart of old Lisbon that was razed by the 1755 earthquake and rebuilt in a grid pattern under supervision of the Marquis of Pombal. Neither of us knew much about the earthquake or anything about the Marquis of Pombal, but both were fundamental to today’s Lisbon. The earthquake devastated Lisbon at the time, and had tremendous political, economic, architectural, scientific and even philosophical effects in Portugal and throughout Europe that still reverberate. Politically, the earthquake frightened King Joao I into leaving the city and handing power to his prime minister, the Marquis of Pombal, for the next 20 years. Pombal used the opportunity to reshape Portuguese society, promoting secularization and Enlightenment views, but also suppressing opposition especially from aristocratic factions and the Jesuits. He seems a fascinating and overlooked character outside of Portugal, a “Paradox of the Enlightenment.” The earthquake wiped out 30-50% of Portugal’s GDP at a time when it was one of the richest nations on earth, shifting the balance of power throughout Europe at a crucial moment. The earthquake (and Pombal) helped start the science of seismology. Pombal redesigned central Lisbon on a grid layout, promoted earthquake-proof buildings and an architectural style that became known as Pombaline. There’s a book coming out later this year, Queen of the Sea, by Barry Hatton that looks like an interesting overview of Lisbon’s fascinating and not very well known history.
But we didn’t know all that yet (and learning it afterwards makes writing this journal worthwhile for me); we had lunch and beer on our minds. We made it to the Cervejaria only to find it mostly empty, which was suspicious. The place next door was much busier with an upscale lunch crowd of what appeared to be mostly Lisbonites — the Cervejaria was clearly a tourist joint. But we settle in with a cold beer and decided to share a seafood rice dish for two…because Laurie wanted the shrimp and lobster while I wanted the clams and mussels (and rice). It’s nice that we’re compatible eaters. We devoured it all. Not as good as the similar dish I had in Viseu last year, but still very nice. The waiter was also very nice, which was becoming a trend — nearly all the service we had from shop attendants, taxi drivers was consistently pleasant and welcoming. Lisbon was full of tourists from all over Europe and the Americas (not so many Asians…yet), but the Portuguese so far remain very welcoming and pleasant. My working theory is they are still emerging from a 20th century under mostly authoritarian rule and enjoying a upward swing in their freedoms, economy and international reputation.
After long lunch we wander just a bit more before taxiing back to our apartment for an afternoon nap. I make a point of sleeping only an hour, then we have a long discussion over what to do that evening. I have a passing interest in Fado, but Laurie’s not eager, and we find that the majority of Fado performances are tied to having dinner to which neither of us want to commit. We ultimately decide to go back to area around Santa Luiza church and Porto do Sol to get a drink and watch the lights come on. 
The place we originally targeted on the church patio is closed, but the cafe right on the street has some open tables and serves liquor, so why not? I get a (huge) gin and tonic and we spend a nice hour or so on the terrace, with some not unpleasant street musicians nearby. I then need to search out a restroom and end up pulling white man’s privilege by marching into the nicest looking restaurant and then marching right back out. Necessity breeds rudeness sometimes.
We wander the streets a bit more, looking for something light to eat, and maybe some music. We find an inviting little place, Le Petite Cafe with a table outside and a quiet solo guitar player. The service again is friendly and excellent as we get some olives, cheese and bread. Laurie gets some soup and I choose an octopus and rice dish that comes piping hot in a little stew pot with a delicious broth tinged with cilantro. We have a nice conversation as we meander through the meal. Laurie talks about the soap opera cast of Juan’s extended family which seems to beg for a good novelist, especially the left-wing and right-wing factions and the woman who came as a child from Germany to ride out WWII (a la the English kids sent to the countryside to avoid the Blitz). I recount the books by Claire and Isabel Chao and Marguerite Church as best I can. May you live in interesting times. At one point the guitar player does a lovely gentle version of a tune which I eventually place as Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” (check out this Greg Reiter version for something close, minus the percussion) and then follows with an equally lovely “Here Comes the Sun”. Wish I’d gotten his name and maybe find him online, but my back was to him and after that he was gone. Very pleasant evening. Later, I find that the restaurant is rated in the top 5% in Lisbon, so a lucky choice and our good luck a table was open just for us. We taxi back home by 11 or so; even the taxi driver is nice, relaying to Laurie in Portuguese that he grew up on the street where we’re staying.
For cultural curiosity’s sake, I spend an hour flipping through the available TV channels. Hundreds of them, with a wide variety of Portuguese, English, American and European programs. Even some from Brazil and Japan. Laurie said her tour guide explained that Portuguese generally speak good English because they’ve grown up watching English programs and movies, plus studying it in school. Laurie again notes the contrast with Spain which is much more insular and protective of its language. It makes Portugal very easy for us to navigate and reminds me somewhat of the Scandinavian countries in that respect. Thanks, we appreciate it!
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