This was a travel day as we headed south to the coastal town of Lagos. We packed up our stuff, said good-bye to our Airbnb in Lisbon and took an Uber to the train station. The train ride was hot, but mostly uneventful. Heading out of Lisbon, our route took us over the 25  de Abril Bridge over the Tagus which makes for a beautiful view.

A prolonged stop on the tracks got us into Tunes about ½ hour late. We were supposed to catch a connecting train there, and I don’t think there was another one until the next day. So, we were a little concerned about whether we would have to get an Uber or make some other arrangement. Amy texted the Airbnb owner who assured us the train would wait.

And, so it did. We caught the connecting train from Tunes to Lagos. It was a no-frills operation and the lady with the family sitting next to us complained incessantly. Every stop along the way was a personal affront. Our Airbnb host picked us up at the train station. It actually wouldn’t have been a long walk, with a foot bridge over the marina. But, with bags, it would have been a little inconvenient. The drive was a bit more circuitous and we were pretty well packed into the host’s small car, but it was not too bad. Our host was originally from Australia but had lived in Lagos for quite some time. I believe she said her kids had grown up there.

The house itself was kind of a row house concept atop one of the hills. There was a porch on the roof with fantastic views. We were pretty gassed from our travels at that point, but Amy and I walked down the hill into the city center for some beer and snacks. Some kind of popcorn snack we don’t have locally went down pretty well along with some more Sagres. (As I recall, they had cold Sagres and only warm Super Bock, so my choice was made!) After the snacking and drinking, the coffee table looked like one of my old college apartments – with chip bags and empty beer bottles.

Properly refreshed, we strolled down to the beach and took in the sights. Lagos is a beach town and a tourist destination on the southern coast of Portugal. The city center has cobbled streets and Portuguese tile with lots of bars and restaurants that were bustling when we were there. It’s an old place, once a center of Portuguese navigation, colonialism, and the slave trade. The coast of Lagos features a series of beaches interspersed between high and beautiful cliffs. In several places, there are passages through the cliffs so you can get from one beach to another.

 

Once we had strolled about the beaches for a bit, we were getting hungry and we didn’t yet have a plan. As a family, we mostly travel well together; however, that evening, fatigue, heat, and thirst were having an impact and there was some chippiness among us as to where we were going to eat. Eventually we settled on a place. Cole and I both got doner kebabs, Harper got a tuna salad, and Amy got something with chicken.

On the way home, there were some Irish guys busking in the central plaza that we stopped and enjoyed for a bit. Then we climbed up the hill to our place and kicked back, watching several episodes of Cobra Kai before bed.

The night was not terribly restful. The bed in Amy and I’s room was not terribly big. There was a small bed – a cot really – in what was almost a closet attached to our room. I thought that would make a cozy little hideaway for sleeping but there ended up being a lot of noises. People walking by in the street, a window rattling in the wind, and some other noise I never identified.

Today’s major activities were a trip to the National Tile Museum, the Tropical Botanical Garden, and a Food & Fado tour. Our first stop was breakfast at the café across the street. Again, kind of unnecessarily complicated breakfast items. Still, not bad. I had a combo with eggs, yogurt, toast, and croissant. We dubbed our uber ride to the tile museum “crazy taxi.”

Tile Museum

The tile museum was mildly interesting. The blue and white style on the tile was apparently influenced by Portugal’s contact with Japan and China. After a period of time, there was a “return to color” where, as the phrase would imply, the tile became more colorful. The kids and I had a great time with a depiction of Baby Jesus who was absolutely *jacked.* His abs and biceps were insane. That led to a debate about whether he was juicing or if the Almighty could get that kind of look without any gear. Also, because Harper has previously clued us into how tough it is to draw hands, we were poised to focus on that when looking at various pieces. There was one person who looked to have a palsy of some sort. What can I say? We know how to have a good time!

 

Tropical Garden

Having become properly cultured in our knowledge of tile, we took another car to Belem. Our original intent was to see the palace, but it’s only open one day a week, and this wasn’t it. Instead, we went to the nearby Lisbon Tropical Botanical Garden. The garden had a lot of peacocks and there was an expo in the 40s focused on Portugal’s connection to the Orient, and there was a special section devoted to that.

On the whole, I guess the place struck me as sort of run down. But it occurred to me that the parts of Portugal where I have been, especially in Lisbon, have been what I think of as the “right kind of shabby.” Enough to be interesting and not sterile. But not so much that you think the place is unloved or dangerous. The metaphor probably isn’t great, but it puts me in mind of the vitality you find in mutts. That’s not intended as condescending at all. I think it’s a great energy. We learned on our river cruise that the government owns the shoreline of the river. I figure this is a mixed blessing – if the government doesn’t have the resources, the areas can be underutilized or left to deteriorate. On the other hand, it means the areas are open to the public and not walled off for private estates or bland resorts.

After the garden, we stopped at Pasteis de Belem, the OG pasteis de nata shop. Its history is tied into the nearby Jeronimos monastery. I haven’t had a bad pasteis de nata, so I can’t say that this was an order of magnitude better than the others or anything; but definitely worth a stop. We ate them at an adjacent park with some confusing exercise equipment. The kids were getting goofy pretending to exercise. But, exercise we did!

We were a little sick of Ubers by this point, so we started on the long hike back to the Airbnb. But we took plenty of breaks on the way. The first stop was in the commercial area where we’d eaten sushi the night before.  We snacked on some chips and guac. Unfortunately they didn’t have any Super Bock or Sagres; so it was Heineken for Cole and I. Amy and Harper went with fruity and refreshing: apple spritz and strawberry daquiri. After that, the walk was along a fairly busy street and – if I’m honest – that part of it was not very enjoyable. Our second stop was at a little corner kiosk with tables which, I’m happy to report, had Sagres. The rest of the walk was mostly uphill through the Alfama neighborhood. By the time we got home, we were more than ready for a break.

 

 

Food & Fado

Following some rest, we rallied for our “Food & Fado” tour. We met up with our tour guide who took us through some Fado related areas in the Mouraria and Alfama neighborhoods. Fado isn’t the blues, but I think it sort of occupies the cultural space in Portugal that the blues do in the U.S.

One of the interesting things our guide discussed was about how fado started life as this colorful, decadent sort of art form brought in by sailors. When Salazar took over Portugal, the color and decadence were contrary to his sensibilities. He couldn’t fully suppress the form, so he coopted it; creating designated spaces for fado and an expectation that singers would cover up and wear dark colors.

In our group was a family originally from New York who were sort of out of central casting. Dad at least (maybe others) had moved to Florida. Son had studied computer science, worked for Facebook, and was in a start up in San Francisco. Not sure about mom and daughter. But their metrics for success were a little different than my family’s. More of a high-flying east coast focus. I think they were maybe a little perplexed by our family’s relative lack of ambition. Also in our group were two sisters, older ladies from Los Angeles who had been on a cruise in Spain and the Mediterranean.

After walking for a bit and learning about prominent figures in fado history, we stopped at what the Internet seems to call Ginginha da Alice. It was an apartment door that opened up into the street where, after receiving a call that we were there, Alice put up a small card table and served up some ginginha in edible chocolate shot glasses. It was fantastic and, I believe, the biggest reason that Amy picked this tour for us.

Eventually, we made it to the restaurant. I can’t recall exactly what we ate, but there were few courses: bread and appetizers, a main course with a lot of meats – steak, pork, cod, ham – as well as some chips and rice. In between the courses were sets of fado. The singers were a grandmother and granddaughter pair who would switch off. I sort of got the impression that the backing guitars (one standard, one Portuguese) were also family members, but I’m not entirely sure. At the end, grandmother and granddaughter did a set together. I probably won’t be putting a lot of fado on my Spotify playlist, but it was pleasant, soulful, and impressive.

After dinner, Amy attempted to help the L.A. sisters get their Uber situation sorted out. One of the sisters was having a terrible time trying to get her app to recognize what city she was in.

But, eventually we said our goodbyes. It was after 11 by the time we got home – a fortunately short walk and down hill. We had had a full day.

The main events for our first full day in Lisbon were a street art tour and a sunset sail. We got a fairly early start and ate breakfast at a place called the Paleio Café. Cole and I had peanut butter and banana on toast – a combination that would come up a couple of times on our trip and will probably make its way into the home breakfast rotation.  The café had an 80s vibe and, like a lot of the breakfast places we would visit, had a menu that was a little fancier than I think breakfast needs to be. I think a Waffle House could make a mint in Portugal.

From the cafe, it was a short walk to the meet up spot at Martim Moniz Square for the street art tour. While we were waiting for the others to arrive, there were a lot of flies at the square. Cole remarked, “this must be what it’s like to be dead!”

Our guide was Vera, a street artist from Belgium and her dog (whose name I forget). She had a particular interest in feminist themes in and about the art. The tour would take us through the Alfama and Mouraria neighborhoods of Lisbon.

The art raised interesting questions (as art does.) We saw some really captivating, unsanctioned art painted on walls that someone else owns. The good stuff is provocative and makes that part of Lisbon interesting. But it’s easily painted over by bad, lazy, and/or damaging graffiti. Who has the right to paint where? Who should decide? Vera said it was often times just municipal workers, hired to repaint walls that have been spray painted. They’ll simply fail to paint over the items they happen to like.

Leaving the decision up to property owners is another solution. Certainly, that comports with my sense of property rights. But do we really want art left in the hands of those who can pass a certain financial threshold? (Or artists who won’t offend the sensibilities of those who can?)

The tour was great, but it ended up being about 3.5 hours and, like a book in need of an editor, probably would have been even better if it were more like 2 hours.

Immediately after the tour, we caught an Uber to the LX Factory in the Alcantara district.  It was an old textile complex that has been reworked into a commercial area with shops and restaurants. Mostly, we probably could have skipped this trip – given how much else we were doing that day – but the lunch was pretty good. We ate at a restaurant called “Beer’s.”  Given the name, what’s a guy to do but have a nice big mug of Sagres? On top of that, I had my first (but not last) bifana of the trip. It’s a staple in Portugal with a number of variations, but basically it’s a pork sandwich. Tasty and not complicated. I get tired of restaurants with overly complicated hamburgers and whatnot, so that was perfect for me.

In the LX Factory complex there was a good sized book store where we spent some time, but the titles were all in Portuguese, so those didn’t have a ton of appeal for us. It had a really great record section, focused on jazz. (So of course, I found myself mostly flipping through the Blues section!) That section had a strict “no pictures” rule for some reason.

Beyond the record store and the restaurant, the other stores didn’t really have a lot that jumped out to us; so, we decided to catch another Uber back home. (Logistically, it would have made some sense to stay in the area because our next activity was not too far away, but we were pretty gassed.) The Ubers are readily available and cheap. Given the company’s history, I’d guess they are hoping to erode the city’s transportation infrastructure and then jack up prices. But, right now getting around town was a breeze.

After resting up a bit, we headed back out to the River Tagus for a sunset river cruise. The Uber driver was following directions that got him almost to the port, but not quite and found himself at a dead end. He dropped us off and we were able to walk the rest of the way. The meet up was next to the “paddle club” which – I thought was going to have something to do with boats. But it was a bunch of pickleball courts. While killing time, Cole and I had a beer. Carlsberg was the only thing on tap. It’s not Portuguese, but not the worst fate in the world.

Our sailboat was “the Leonard Cohen” which tickled me quite a bit, particularly given the “Everybody Knows” lyric that “everybody knows the boat is leaking; everybody knows the captain lied.” Our hosts were Pedro & Pedro. We sat in the bow of the ship and felt like we got the better Pedro. Another part of the group was astern and we didn’t have much interaction with them. There was a lady from Utah who sat up front with us. She was pleasant but mostly didn’t seem inclined to interact much, so we let her be.

The weather was fantastic. In fact, the weather was terrific for almost the entire trip – generally somewhere between 65 – 80 and sunny. We sailed from port, downstream toward the ocean – seeing, among other things, the Monument of the Discoveries, the 25 de Abril Bridge (formerly the Salazar bridge, but nobody much cares for the dictator after they gave him the boot), the Cristo-Rei monument, and Belem tower. Then the boat turned around and went upstream back past where we started and as far as the Praca do Comercio (giant plaza built after the 1755 earthquake.) Then we turned again and found a nice spot in the middle of the river to wait for the sunset.

During all of this, there was fun music (we joked about it being “music white people like” and I correctly predicted that “Sweet Caroline” would be coming on eventually.) Pedro kept us supplied with vinho verde and sketchy Portuguese nautical facts. (He told us that the word for “tea” came from a Portuguese stamp “T.E.A.” placed on crates during the age of discovery; and that “port” and “starboard” came from the fact that, when heading south along side Africa during the age of discovery, sailors would have port to their left and stars to their right.) Also, and this was unexpectedly the coup de gras, we were given Bugles to snack on. Left to my own devices, I never would have asked for them, but they were exactly the right thing paired with sailing and vinho verde.

We capped off the night with dinner at a sushi restaurant called Izanagi just up the boardwalk from the dock. I can’t say that the food was memorable, but it wasn’t bad, and the river view was excellent. All-in-all, a successful day in Lisbon.

If my sources are correct, the 24th wedding anniversary is the “shelter in place in an airport anniversary.” No? Well, that’s how we did it on our way to Portugal for a summer vacation this past July. Harper, Amy, and I went up to Chicago O’Hare on that Monday evening. Cole had headed to Europe a week earlier, going to visit a friend in Estonia. He would meet us in Lisbon.

This was not our first trip to Portugal. Back in Spring 2021, we made our first trip there. That trip had been an offshoot of pre-COVID plans to go to Spain. There was a work conference in Porto that Amy was going to attend and then we had intended to head off to Spain for the rest of our trip. COVID postponed things, and then we ended up spending a week in Portugal – in Lisbon and to the north in Porto. We liked it so well, we decided that we wanted to return for a summer trip, explore Lisbon some more and then head to Lagos in the southern part of the country.

The weather heading up to Chicago for our flight was sunny and clear. If our flight had left maybe a half hour earlier, we would have been fine. But we didn’t, and storms were rolling in. We got to the airport and ate at the Macaroni Grill there. Amy and I did at least gesture toward our anniversary by leaving Harper with the bags at the gate and going to a bar and grabbing a couple of drinks. The bartender had already given Amy a heavy pour, noticed that the bottle was almost empty and probably gave her what amounted to two glasses of wine. Which, given airport prices, we might have broken even.

Shortly after that, the announcement came over the airport P.A. system that there was a tornado warning. We were directed to “shelter in place,” which amounted to moving away from the windows. Everyone was pretty calm and nonchalant about the whole thing. (Being good Midwesterners, we wanted to go to the windows to watch the weather, but we followed the rules.) One lady from Philadelphia said she had never been around a tornado. Later we heard that there had been tornados that touched down nearby. Wind gusts got up to 80 mph. The windows rattled and doors were left open to help equalize the pressure. It was a little surreal, but did not last too awfully long.

Between the late start and the extended taxiing due to built up airport traffic, we took off about 2 hours late. Harper slept like a rock, I slept some, and Amy said that it was a very different experience as between the two of us. I was tossing and turning while Harper was a lump of concrete. When I wasn’t sleeping, I spent an inordinate time playing “Angry Birds” on the airplane entertainment system. The poor woman in front of me – it never occurred to me that she could feel my poking at the screen. I hope she didn’t wait too long before asking me if I could stop.

Because of the late start, we missed our initial connection from Heathrow to Lisbon. They put us on the next one. Because of (I believe) Brexit, we had to go through security – but not customs or passport control – in Heathrow. Heathrow is an organizational cluster (more on that on the way back), but our reasonable layover time turned into some stress over whether we would make the connection. Ultimately, even with the delays and new flight, we arrived in Lisbon about 2.5 hours later than expected. Ultimately, it was about a 21.5 hour trip, door to door.
Cole was waiting. He had come that morning from Tallin, Estonia, through Munich, and then to Lisbon. It was good to see Cole after he had been abroad for a week. He hasn’t lived at home full time for a couple of years, but having your kid far away from your help adds a level of anxiety to parenting. He was fine, of course.

We got an Uber from the airport to the Airbnb which was a block or so away from the Lisbon Cathedral, dropped off our bags, and our first order of business was picking up some supplies. By supplies, I mean Super Bock and Pringles. I remembered Lisbon being hilly, but my memory just didn’t do it justice. It’s a little like mountain climbing any time you want to go somewhere.

The Airbnb ended up being comfortable enough, but it wasn’t perfect. In particular the kids’ bathroom was an adventure. The toilet was wedged into a position behind the sink where you had to kind of sit at an angle to use it. The shower was such that, if you angled the shower head the wrong way, you were going to flood the bathroom and maybe the adjacent bedroom. And, there were roaches. What I’m trying to say is that the kids mostly used our bathroom.

For dinner, we went to a nearby restaurant that Amy had found called Tu e Eu 2. The restaurant was squirreled away in an alley and up some stairs. In fact, on the way there, we missed the alley and got there from the street above via an elevator that took us to level below which opened up on the outdoor stairway. The line was down the stairs, so we waited there. (We discovered it was cash only, so Cole and I quickly walked back to the apartment to pick up extra cash.)

It’s a small place with walls covered in graffiti from visitors and a healthy sound system playing. I had grilled sardines which had a great flavor, but somehow I couldn’t avoid getting a lot of bones that I had to pick out of my mouth. The staff gave us ginjinha to cap off the night. And then it was time for bed. I slept the sleep of the just, long and deep. I guess mostly skipping a night of sleep will do that!