marksabout

Arrival, Lisbon

I absolutely recommend the fast train from Oporto to Lisbon (and back). Although I later found out that the ‘slow’ train only takes about 20 minutes longer over a 3 hour trip… Still, I’m sure the fast train was more comfortable. I arrived in Lisbon at about 8ish, I think. I didn’t know how to get to my hostel as I had been relying on the data roaming capabilities of my iPhone which somehow failed. Thankfully, I had printed of my booking confirmation and after the fourth time looking up the hostel’s address, I noticed the ‘directions to hostel’ section. Phew. A simple ride in the metro and voila! there I was in the best hostel I’d ever stayed in. Right in the centre of all the action in chic surroundings laden with backpackers 10 years my junior.

Placa do Comercio

They were serving dinner in the hostel that night so I put my name down. Normally I like to explore and find somewhere cool to eat, but it was getting late and I was in the middle of tourist central, so decided to meet with the other guests. Having left the retelling of Portugal too late, I can’t even remember what dinner was. It involved rice, and some tasty, but non-descript chicken… Then all the kids wanted to go out. The party is in the street in Lisbon, and the interior of a bar serves only to… well, serve drinks. The party on the street is that much more difficult due to the hilly nature of Lisbon, and the fact that all the streets are cobbled with marble. Very cool, though, and lot’s of fun!

Slow to wake up the next day, I forced myself to take the tram to Belen. There are two things of note in Belem (well there’s more but I wasn’t in museum mode): the home of the Portuguese tart, and a tower built in the water. They’re not called Portuguese tarts in Portugal, they’re called ‘Pastel de nata’ vaguely ‘cream cake’ and in their place of origin ‘pasteis de Belem.’ They’re just as good wherever you go in Lisbon, but in the tart factory of origin, they’re warm, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon and served on a plate to be eaten, standing, amongst a throng of salivating sweet-tooths. I had to queue for seconds. After sufficient touristing for one day, I went out for coffee, and got caught in torrential rain, wearing canvas shoes and not carrying an umbrella. I waited under an awning that directed the inundation directly towards my feet for nearly an hour, all the while thinking that the rain would ease in the next minute or so. It finally did, but not before I was so frustrated with waiting that I made a dash that saturated everything…

The sites of Belem

Pasteis de Belem

As I walked back to the hostel dejected, wet, and tired, I passed an Indian restaurant. Given the Portuguese were in India over 500 years ago, I thought I’d be in for a spicy, heart-warming, stodgy treat. Vindaloo is, afterall, of Portuguese origin. Apparently. That’s what they say. Though it would appear the portuguese didn’t bring back any spices. Nor any Indians. For an Indian restaurant, there was an obvious lack of Indian folk. An elephant in the room, if you will (elephants were brought back to Portugal, I’m reading a novel based on this fact…). And the only Indian dish was “curry.” For the Australians reading, it was basically chicken with some Keen’s curry stirred through some cream. But it was pretty good after the hour of soaking I received in the dark street’s of Lisbon.

My favourite shot in Lisbon

The next day I went on a little tram trip, Lisbon’s streets and trams are super beautiful! Actually, I bought a travel pass, which includes use of a famous lift… I was really only on a photo tour, so I’ll tell that story in pictures:

Lisbon!

Elevation

Decadence and view