Sarahenity: On the road: Portugal

Portugal felt like some sort of magical, foreign land in my imagination -- the land of explorers and the Moors and castanets -- well, that's Spain, actually. When it comes to Portugal, I'm actually pretty ignorant. Beyond the economic crisis and Portuguese music, my knowledge was (is) minimal.

It looks magical, doesn't it?

When we stood in the hot air outside of the airport, those feelings of Europe came rushing back to me -- the inescapable smell of tobacco, the myriad of languages, semi-orderly queuing, and that feeling of an old world, of something bigger and grander than anything back home.

In the case of Lisbon, it was an older feeling, but in a tired way. If Portugal were a person, it would be a semi-hobbled old man -- persistent, kind, humbled by age and inattention -- who manages to stay on his feet, somehow.

I'm serious. The economic depression has hit the country hard. The unemployment rate hasn't leveled off much. Remember the broken window theory from your freshman psychology class? It certainly applies here. The graffiti is breeding.

Beautiful ruins

Lisbon, as it turns out, is a perfect place to get over your jet lag -- warm and pleasant, soft hotel beds, and early nights. As we took a cab through twisty streets to our hotel in the Bairro Alto, we watched the rattletrap trolleys poke along the streets and men relieve themselves against the side of buildings (did that sound romantic? I tried. But seriously -- I don't get the prevalence of public urination in Europe). The food was odd (meat with a side of meat, and potatoes as the main -- sometimes only -- vegetable and a sad lack of good chocolates), though I did like the salted cod; the people were kind but we didn't often get much beyond a few pleasantries (primarily in English) and gestures.

There is a sense that the world has left Portugal behind. There are amazing monuments to explorers and the ruins of kings to waltz through, but not much to suggest that the world pays much attention to today's Portugal. I can't explain why -- perhaps I'm just sentimental -- but it made me a little sad to wind through the streets and see history bordered by ruin.

I particularly enjoyed the Belem neighborhood. We wandered down to the waterfront because Sergio wanted to see the Tower of Belem, which is a few hundred feet into the Tagus River. To be fair, I wanted to see it too but it was late in the day, it was somewhere close to 95 degrees, and we had to walk several blocks, most of which had the lovely perfume of a sewer.

He is so good to me. I love him more than I can express. He encouraged me and we made the trek together. And was I glad that we did! As the sun shone down, we could smell the (slightly more pleasant) air off of the river, and I imagined that the winds had raced across the Atlantic, all the way to where we stood together.

As we climbed from level to level, we shared some laughs. I was sitting at a window, watching the tide come in and out when I was shocked -- I saw an octopus slip over the seawall with a swell! Sergio had wandered off to take some photos elsewhere. I left my seat and rushed to find him.

"Sergio!" I cried in a rushed voice. "Sergio! Come here and see! You won't believe what I saw! It was incredible!"

"Okay, okay," he said, following me without asking. But a couple had taken my corner perch so we had to wait.

"What was it?" he asked and I responded, gleefully, "It was an OCTOPUS! I saw it, in the water! And there were many of them! Get your camera ready!"

Once the people left, I rushed to the window and eagerly searched the water. "THERE! THERE IT IS!"

There was a pregnant pause. "I think that's a jellyfish."

The octopus. Jellyfish. Whatever.

"No. That's an octopus."

Laughing. Lots of laughing. "No baby. It's a jellyfish."

So I sort of caved in (verbally) as we watched some of them, but I held onto hope that I was right.

Then I saw the photo. Damn.

My favorite part of the trip, however, was our day trip to Sintra, the playground of the Portuguese royalty. When Lisbon became too hot in the summer, everyone packed up and went to Sintra. Countless European colleagues told me that I had to go to Sintra and they promised a real-life Disneyland.

Look, rightly or wrongly, I idolize Disneyland. I thought I was being toyed with. But I wasn't disappointed. It felt so perfect that you could imagine Walt having a little apartment in one of the back twisty streets, smiling down at his creation like a benevolent old grandfather (side note: Walt Disney was a weird, complicated man. Read this biography if you don't believe me).

It's just too picturesque.

Seriously, Sintra is the Versailles of Portugal, but much cooler. All I remember of Versailles are the tourists -- scores of tourists. Sure, there were tourists in Sintra, but a more manageable amount. We visited the Moorish Castle (mainly ruins), the National Palace, with its strange twin chimneys, and the Pena Palace, which was bright, whimsical, and fun.

We wandered through the three palaces. I lost approximately four pounds in sweat because, believe it or not, everywhere you want to go in Sintra is on top of a steep hill. Once you climb that hill, you climb another hill to the next attraction. There is one upside to all of these hills -- the view is stunning.

Moorish palace high above Sintra

When it comes down to it, we had a brilliant time in Portugal, and it was a perfect start to our European trip. What made it special was sharing with Sergio. I've been to Europe several times and this was his first trip, and it was like seeing Europe again through new eyes as I watched him observe, take photos, and to discover things together. We got lost. We commiserated about blisters. We ordered food in a language we didn't speak and exchanged confused looks when our steak arrived covered in potato chips. We marveled at how much American (English-language) culture influences people who can't understand the songs they sing along with. We wondered why they never show palace bathrooms or servant's quarters or kitchens on most palace tours.

Jeronimos Monastery in Lisbon

And we grew closer together. Sometimes a little adventure reminds you why you love someone so much.

Enjoy a few more photos below or on my G+ page. Next up? Madrid and Toledo, Spain! I can't wait to share the rest of our adventures with you!

xo
Sarah