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Published: February 6th 2008
As much as I love La Mancha, it is always nice to get away. I spent the whole of January waiting excitedly to spend the next Puente in Lisbon and Porto. As usual it was the normal mad rush to Madrid and the the airport. I seem incapable of chilled travel.
We had organised to couch surf too, and as it was my first time I was pretty nervous. Im not sure why, I had hosted without any difficulties, and looking back...there was nothing to be worried about.
So we headed over to our host's neighbourhood. Reluctantly handed over our smallest note, a twenty, to the biggest jerk of a taxi driver possible. Note to anyone is Lisbon, Portuguese people are lovely, but Taxi drivers arent human beings. He charged us €15 for a four minute journey. Our first clue should have been that he didnt turn the meter on, but we were so excited...he must have seen us coming!
Nevermind. I sincerely hope that he took that money, went home with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine for his wife, made love to her and then joked about how he fleeced three silly little tourists
earlier that day.
First we made our way through Lisbon's very clean (Madrid take note) metro towards Rossio, the downtown. We took some pictures in the main Praça in front of the fountains, the LOVE signs and the mandatory capital column with a statue of a hero ontop. On our way to the Elevator we stopped and watched some AmerIndian tribal dancing that was gathering a crowd. In five minutes of standing there with people passing us by...we came to a conclusion that may see me moving to Portugal...Portuguese men are a very well kept secret! They are, in general, gorgeous!!! It definitely added to Lisbon's many tourist attractions!
We headed into the downtown area. It is strangely build like a grid, a very unusual thing for the old part of a town centre. I was later told by Joao, a very informed man, that after the earthquake and resulting fires that engulfed lisbon...the downtown area was rebuilt on the fashionable grid system. Not only this, but the architect used this system to cover up the numerous churches in this tiny district of Lisbon. One of this churches is a derelict and yet still ornate shell that sits
just behind the Elevator at the end of Rua Santa Justa.
At the Elevator, we climbed higher and higher to get a better view of the city. At the very top, we came across a small cafe with a guy playing guitar and singing a variety of easy listening songs. He took one look at us and realised our entertainment potential.
"Spanish?" he asked
"No. Amarican" Jessica answered.
"Ah! Bob Dylan! Come and sing some Bob Dylan!" he beckoned warmly only three feet away from us. Jessica and Christine politely declined and moved to the side, pushing me into his view.
"You! Come sing?" oh bugger, he was asking me now. I too politely declined.
"I dont know Bob Dylan" I tried "Im English"
"Ah English! The Beatles!"...another thing I really shouldve seen coming. Again, I didnt know any songs.
"no problem, come here. how about....." he reeled off another couple of very old British bands as my willing feet walked the rest of my unwilling body towards the microphone. We were still to find an artist I knew...
"Janis Joplin?" I pulled a face at this request that made
the whole cafe laugh. That was when I realised that people were actually paying attention to this little dance of ours.
"Ok. La Bamba!!!" Oh Lord help me...what the hell. Only live once. Take a deep breath..."Alright "
I was still willing myself when he started playing and I missed my cue. Everyone gigled and we took two...
"La la la la la la Bamba"....so far so good "la la la la la la bamba....dum dum da dee POCO DE GRACIA!"
With him on his guitar, my expert "la de dah" filling and a little help from the Spaniards in the audience, we took the song all the way to its climax...at which point it was met with a thunderous round of applause from the whole cafe.
"What the hell?" he said with a chuckle..."Ive been singing for three hours up here and thats the first round of applause Ive got."
We sat for a few more songs, then said goodbye and took a walk along the seafront. We returned to the house and to the couchsurfing dinner we were attending that night.
In Portugal, everyone is late. We found out that it is
Hidden church
In the downtown area of Lisbon, the grid lay out hides many of Lisbon's oldest churchesthe Portuguese way after waiting almost an hour outside a retaurant for a booked table. Thankfully the cherry liquour we had had before kept me warm, and eventually it was a lovely meal...surrounded by many a jolly Carnival soul. Afterwards we dawdled for a good while outside an Irish pub, until the American girls and I decided to lead the horses to water...so to speak. Pretty soon we were heading up to Bairro Alto where the whole world and its brother was enjoying the nightlife. Not even the light drizzle could stop the party. We finished off the night up here, and went home were our couchsurfing host very kindly tucked us sleeping beauties into bed.
The next day we woke up, gave up on waiting for the blue sky, and dodged the rain all the way to Belém. We searched for a table in this tiny little pastry cafe, and God the pastries were good. The cafe's speciality has been served since 1837, made from a secret recipe known to only two people at any one time. The place was a little curiousity to us, and I personally thought it a little gem until one of us went
to the Bathrooms and found that what appeared to be a small and quaint little cake shop was actually an industrial enterprise, with rooms upon rooms of tables full of hungry tourists munching down one of the thousands of Belém pastries that you can watch being made on a daily basis. All the same. It was still a little treasure of our trip, and the pastries set us up nicely for our trip to Porto that evening as the rain ceased to spit and started to tip directly from the low and heavy clouds...our spirits weren't dampened though. It made a nice humming noise that sent us to sleep on the bus ride north.
We arrived in the sodden downtown part of Porto at 9pm. We still hadn't heard from our host for the night and so looked for the universally understood sign for help..."Internet Cafe. A very helpful doormen helped us with directions
"straight on, and to the left"...once we had marched straight on, a sudden confusion overtook us as we stood staring at a possibility of four possible "left"s. Luckily, internet cafe signs come illuminated, and we found our way.
With little money on a
damp Sunday night in an unknown backstreet of Porto we waited for our host. I should probably explain here that back in La Mancha called Jorge whose name is becoming our new swearword. Due to problems with being paid too little in general, and this particular month, not at all...we were having to split two peoples budgeted spending money three ways. So although we had to ask for water instead of coffee in the cafe, we rocked the "guess which song" game in the doorway of Porto bus station.
Our host arrived with his friends and carried us off to some very col bars in Porto centre. After a couple of bars and a few beers we headed home where all three of us were gently tucked into Leandro's great big double bed. We lasted about 5 minutes before the beer in our sistem mingled with our excitment and we were up and talking in the kitchen until 7am the next morning.
At 10.30 the next morning I tried in vain to wake my two ugly sisters for the day (hehe only joking girls) At 2pm we finally left for the sights of Porto. In all honesty I
think we had intended to see the POrto wine cellars. However, remembering our pockets and those wise words of Janet and Luther...we decided that the best things in Porto are free, and we took a lovely walk around the town centre. There is a beautiful old two-storey market right in the centre of the shopping district. Lining the upper balconies and under the canvases beneath were stalls laden with fruit of all colours of the rainbow, cheeses almost rolling out of their fridges, the cold smell of cured meats mixing with the warm smell of bread.
Our budget bought us a doorstop size lump of bread, spreadable cheese and a bottle of water. We ate our workhouse lunch in the main plaza with the pidgeons. An then indulged ourselves with our bag of rufles for dessert. Afterwards, in the spirit of things... we sang selected songs from Oliver Twist and My Fair lady. (Ok we didnt really)
However, after walking a little further, we gave up on the wine cellars, bought a 1€ bottle of porto wine and a large bar of chocolate and sat on a bench and watched the river.
Yep, thats right. Us three,
Pasteis de Belém
satisfying sweet teeth since 1837... broke, and without lugar...were drinking cheap wine from the bottle in the middle of the day on the riverside in Porto. Like I said,..down and out in Porto and Lisbon!!!
Nevertheless that 1€ bottle of wine started our night off quite well. We decided to stay out for Carnival.Not only did I meet Captain Jack Sparrow himself, but also a Mexican, the blokes from Clockwork Orange (guys you made my night!!!) and a rather weird paparrazzi style photographer. Not sure what his deal was?
Anyway we partied the night away until 6am when we galavanted off back to the bus station, where Leandro pleaded with the bus driver to stop at the Airport for the three very tired girls who were likely to miss their plane otherwise (that would be us) In true hobo style, we slept sprawled over the back seats until lisbon, where we stumbled into the terminal, gave ourselves a fright in the overmirrored waiting area at Lisbon airport, and headed home to our respective pueblos with the alcohol from the night before keeping us warm and full up as best as it could.
I think I was delirious with tiredness for the next
three days. But OH MY GOD I would so do it again!!!!
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