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Published: March 19th 2007
Eat your heart out!
Brendon strolling along the promende between our resort, Estoril, and the next one - Caiscais. I always did like surprises - and this year Brendon has really done himself proud - with over a week full of surprises - all for me!
But before I start....
For those of you keen to know about Norway, I promise you that a blog is coming. Yes there are tonnes of stories, crashed cars, snowstorms, houses burnt down and a shed load of money gone up in smoke - and despite all of that we still had a good time, but I don’t want to share them with you until we can show you some photos too. Photos? Um, well. Yes. We forgot our camera. And while Lars & Rachael kindly lent us one, in all the drama surrounding our leaving there was no way to copy the photos over onto CD. So we are hoping to see these coming from Norway some time soon. In the meantime, here’s a wee tale of how I became old.
OK. So I know it has to happen some time, but I still feel so young! The first real sign was last summer. Brendon & I were at a house party in Clapham with a bunch of his school
Welcome to Lisbon
Brendon, to the left of the statue of Dom Jose 1 (King of Portugal responsible for rebuilding Lisbon after the 1755 Earthquake) in Praca do Comercio - a lovely Square on Lisbon's waterfront. Behind him you see the triumphal arch - the symbolic gateway to the city from the river - well actually the Tagus Estuary. friends & I suddenly realised that I was THE OLDEST PERSON THERE. Unfortunately I had had a wee bit of vino & vocalised this to all and sundry. The next morning - and whenever I needed a bit of teasing - Brendon started to call me ‘Grandma’. Hmmm.
He did however make it up to me, both organising a surprise dinner (and a spot of dancing) with friends the weekend before the big day & organising leave & planning a surprise holiday for me. I had kind of guessed something might be up as my colleagues threw surprise drinks for me - cake, drinks, bar food & a lovely gift - the evening before my big day. I was still completely dumfounded - and for once (don’t laugh) at a loss for words when I opened my card from Brendon & found an airline ticket saying LISBON. Lisbon? Blame it on the early hour and the lack of caffeine in my blood, but it took a while for the brain to register. Lisbon was just so far out of any of our plans for travel- it had never occurred to me as a destination. Of course, knowing so little
Ohmigod! The first time my skin has seen any sun since August!
How nice to take off the coat, scarf, gloves, jumper, top, singlet, boots, stoockings & trousers! Loving the sun & warmth as we chill out at an outdoor cafe (yes, of course we ordered mango smoothees) in Rua Augusta. about it meant I had no preconceptions and was really keen to find out more. The bad news was that I had one more day of work to get through before we left. Unfortunately my boss had been overeager & thought I had the Thursday (my birthday) off. The good news was that I got to read up on Portugal, Lisbon & on Estoril, the beach resort Brendon had chosen) on the tube to & from work. More time to get all excited.
It turns out Brendon had been planning this for an age. The problem was that he couldn’t take the week he had originally planned off from work. After our last 3 overseas trips being to cold places in the middle of winter, he was definite we needed to seem some beaches. The challenge was, where was close enough to be worth a four day trip, & far enough south to be warm enough for the beach. The Maldives, Egypt & all those hot places were just to far away. By the time we got there we’d have to be thinking about our trip home. After a frustrating encounter with a difficult travel agent, Malta was also
What? No funicular?
No worries, I'll drag this damn suitcase up the street any way. Even if it kills me. OK, I do admit that when it got hard I gave in to Brendon & let him carry both cases up the flights of stairs. I did feel guilty though. out. Thanks to Brendon’s colleague(s) for suggesting Portugal. As it turns out it was perfect.
Brendon’s next dilemma was what part of Portugal to head to. With a high of just 21 degrees in Portugal for March, we couldn’t count on beach weather for a whole trip. At the same time we had just spent a year exploring new cities & could do with a more relaxed break. He decided on Estoril, a ‘chic’ (so the books said) seaside resort just 20 minutes form Lisbon (half an hour by train). That way, if the weather was bad, we had lots of sightseeing just next door, and if the weather was good then, great.
So after a day’s work and a lovely, low key candlelit birthday dinner, we packed our bags & hopped into bed. All the better to get up in time for our 4am taxi to the airport. Not being able to get a flight out on my actual birthday and not wanting to miss a second, Brendon had booked the earliest flight he could. The good news was that we arrived in Lisbon at 9am - all ready for a whole day in Portugal.
The
temperature when we landed was 15 degrees. By the time we had made it through customs it was 18 degrees & on the rise. A cheap local bus into town was a great way to start the trip - as we got to check out the locals. There was a group of brightly dressed African woman (probably from Cape Verde, where thousands had emigrated from) complete with the beautiful turbans, vibrant dresses - and conversation to match, a few Brazilians going about their business and some older Portuguese - one woman in the traditional black dress of a widow (they wear black from the day their husband dies to their own death!), and some older gentlemen with their smart trousers, shirts and peaked hats.
By the time we reached the waterfront of Lisbon it was a lovely warm 22 degrees. Much warmer than 22 degrees in Auckland, with a much stronger light that London (no surprises there) we stripped off our jackets, scarves & jumpers and donned our sun glasses. This is what we’re talking about.
We figured that by the time we got to the beach there would be no going back to cities, so we choose
Back down the stairs again
Got to love the cobbled Lisbon streets - and all those stairs. to do our sightseeing of Lisbon when we first arrived. So in the optimistic hope that we could dump our bags somewhere, we planned to stroll along a lovely 4km walking tour we’d found in a guide book. Small problem, the tourist information had no bag storage, neither did the closest train station - although one at the end of the tour might. Eager to get on with the tour we decided to take our bags with us and see how we went. Not far at first, half way down the first street we’d already stopped at an outdoor café for a water and mango smoothie. Feeling restored & revitalised we set off for the next part of our tour, through the Rossio (a central square) to the Elevador da Gloria - a funicular that trundles up the Barrio Alto on what our guide book said “must be one of the world’s steepest public transport rides”. Bummer the funicular was closed for maintenance. Driven on by the promise of ‘magnificent views of the cathedral, castle and Tagus estuary’ we decided to leg it up anyway, suitcases and all. I tell you what. Cobblestones and stairs make dragging your bag on
Where to again?
Planning the next bit of the 'walking' tour - from the front of a tram. wheels hard work. Good thing Brendon’s was a carry-over-the-shoulder job.
At the top, more disappointment as the views were blocked by a fence and netting around a construction zone where the park usually was. Undeterred we peeked through holes to get a glimpse & then headed off down into the warren of medieval streets that make the Barrio Alto. We traipsed through some beautiful squares & lots of picturesque streets before boarding our tram to the next destination. Before you ask the tram & funicular were both on the tour - and were in additional to the 4knm of actual walking. No cheating here. Alighting the tram at the beautiful Largo das Portas do Sol we wandered across the road to Miradouro de Santa Luzia, it’s description as ‘a pretty garden with fine views over the Alfama and the River Tagus’ not doing it justice. We sat here, took in the view, the ambient music, and heaved a big sigh of satisfaction.
After a small bite we headed down past Santa Luzia church into the alleways, staircases & secret gardens of the Alfama. To give you an idea of age, the existing Moorish city was captured buy the
Christians in 1147 - and the Moorish street plan still survives today.
Nearly there, at the end of the Alfama we cam out at the Tagus & decided to take a taxi to the train station - Cais de Sodre. From there it was a beautiful half hour (slow train) journey along the seaside, past Belem, the port where Portuguese ships left in search of new worlds, and the famous monument to their travels and new lands and riches they found - Padrao dos Descobrimentos (Monument to Discoveries). Alighting at Estoril we were thrilled to find the beach behind us and our hotel in front. We managed the short walk to the hotel, promptly showered off the dust of the day & lay down for a second. It was about 5 or 5.30. I woke up realising we hadn’t checked out Estoril at all - and should probably start thinking about an evening stroll and dinner. It was 11pm. Damn. Back to bed. We slept right through to the early morning.
Ahh, our first morning by the seaside, after a lovely buffet breakfast we headed across the road to the beach. Estoril as 2 or 5km (depending on
Miradoura (viewpoint) at Largo das Portas de Sol
What a nice place for lunch. A gentle breeze, lovely view nd the accompaniment of a a local strumming his guitar, playing some lovely Portugeuse music. Behind me is the Alfama district of Lisbon & a glipse of the Tagus estuary. which guide you read) from another beach resort, Caiscais. They are joined by a lovely wide promenade that runs beside the lovely sandy beaches.
Brendon had timed our trip perfectly. Arriving before the crowds we still managed to get the sun and warmth we craved. Thus the promenade was not overcrowded with tourists, nor were the beaches a mass of bodies. Instead there were a number of locals and a few tourists strolling along, jogging, diving, windsurfing, playing something similar to tennis, but with hard racquets and even doing aerobics. After the nation of slobs that the English appear to be, it was lovely to be somewhere where the people made the most of the fresh air & seemed to have as much passion for exercise as we did. That couple with the gentle lapping of the waves on the golden sands, and the rocks between bays being exactly the same as those between Milford & Takapuna beaches, this was the closest we’d been to home since last year. Take away the promenade & beachfront cafes & it could have been home.
We spent the day exploring Caiscais, strolling along the promenade, relaxing in beachfront cafes and lying
Tourist shot at Largo das Portas de Sol
Brendon with the churches of Sao Vicente de Fora and Santa Engracia dominating the background. on the beach. When Brendon offered to give me a back massage while I was lying there in the sun I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
Dinner was just as special - as we celebrated my birthday (as had not been able to do as much on the real night with packing and all). All that sun must have gone to Brendon’s head as he suggested we had the Sangria made with Moet. It must have gone to my head too as I declined on the grounds it was a waste of good Moet to mix it with Sangria - and we drank standard champagne Sangria instead. Lovely.
The following day started with a jog along the beach before breakfast. Those of you who know me, know that along with walking along a sandy shore, getting a back massage, and curling up with a great book, is my favourite past time. This trip was really, really wonderful. Another lovely breakfast followed, then another stroll along the promenade to Caiscais from where we caught a bus to Sintra. Half an hour later & we were in this beautiful World Heritage town. A(nother) bus up the steep hill
Some of the cute streets of Alfama
The oldest quarter of Lisbon,. Alfama is often called it's most charming. Famous for its maze of cobbled lanes, alleways, staircases & secret gardens, it was a treasure to just wander and 'get lost' in. to the piece de resistance, Pena Palace, a short stroll done to the Moorish Castle & then another bus to the city centre, the National Palace, a lovely lunch and a stroll around the lovely shops.
Sintra is just so beautiful, our photos don’t do it justice, so, here’s a link to some more shots of Pena & the town: http://www.portugalvirtual.pt/_tourism/costadelisboa/sintra/palpena.html
We took the coastal bus home that evening, stopping briefly at Cabo da Roca, the western most point in Europe. We had a lovely dinner in a tiny, family run restaurant in Rue das Flores. On the wall was a plaque showing they’d been awarded for exemplary service - and they definitely proved it while we were there. Dad, just for you & Mum we also tried Mateus Rose, then raced to the train home. No strolling along the promenade tonight as some cold weather was blowing in.
Our final day was spent on the beach before returning home to England and snow!
Snow in March? It was freezing and unpleasant welcome home.
Never mind, we are still dreaming of our wonderful holiday in Portugal.
Thank you Brendon.
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