Adios Lisbon

Eager to make the most of my last day (and unable to sleep thanks to nearby snoring Germans, I woke up early and took the train to the coastal town of Cascais (Cash-cay). I was going to rent one of the free municipal bikes but I lazily just wandered aimlessly, read at a cafe and cooled off my poor burnt feet in the Atlantic. I've been so excited to eat some of the Senegalese/Cape Verdean good in Lisbon but I stupidly saved my treat for Sunday. Every one of the tiny restaurants I miraculously found was closed. Disappointed and starving, I scarfed down a brie and bacon baguette and packed and napped. It was a quiet, sangria-filled last night at the Oasis.

I attempt to make a steal at the Thieves' Market

I slept in late this morning but got up in time for Lisbon's infamous Thieves' Market. With the Aussies and Canadians, I took the trusty 28 tram to the huge, boisterous market. Staying true to its name, this place seriously is full of stolen goods - mostly 90s tee shirts. I found a silver chain that can be wound in a million different ways. We tried to find the tile museum, but instead wandered around in the impossible heat for four hours. Miraculously, we found our way home. Lisbon grocery stores are unbelievably cheap: I got wine, fruit, and, of course, Coca Cola Light, for under two euros. After dinner, everyone hung out on the patio for a bit. We went to the Bairro Alto later. It would have been nothing more than a fun evening out except... Hungry, we somehow found a bakery in a seemingly abandoned building. There was a bouncer outside, which seemed weird, and when we gathered outside to devour pastries, we realized that two of the girls were stuck inside. In Lisbon, it's illegal to sell bread after midnight and the cops were outside the bakery. So the poor girls were held hostage inside a bakery. All for the sake of a (delicious) pastry.

A long walk in the heat

After a refreshing two hours of sleep, I woke up and left the hostel at nine, bound for Belem. Undetered by the fact that Belem doesn't make all of my maps, I thought I would have a nice morning walk to get one of the famous Lisboa custard tarts. I am now intimately familiar with industrial Lisbon.

Two days (hours) later, when I finally arrived at Antigua Confereteria de Lisboa, I found a huge cafe packed with people. After intimidating a group of Japanese tourists, I found a table and had the best pastry ever: a warm custard tart, covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon. Delicious.

Next up was the medieval monastery, possibly one of the most beautiful buildings in Lisbon. I took the tram to the Museu National de Antigua, Portugal's national museum and wandered around. Off to the Tile Museum now!

Castles

I woke up early today to head to Sintra, the ancient town 40 minutes north of Lisbon. I was extremely excited because Sinta is home to several castles, and as I dream of someday becoming royalty, I love castles.

The town is charming, full of windy, cobblestone streets. I wandered around for a bit before heading into the first castle, which was one of the first castles of Portuguese royalty. The other castle I really wanted to see is at the top of the mountain and is an old Muslim ruin. I hiked up the hill (not easy when wearing sandals on cobblestone) and explored the old ruins, which give a 360* view of the surrounding area.

After reading outside for a bit, relaxing from my hike, I took the train back to Lisbon. I walked through the city to the ancient Castle ruins and then saw Se Cathedral.

I had traditional Portuguese chicken in chili sauce (piri piri) for dinner then went out with the hostelites. We went to one of the clubs along the wharf called Lux, full of the trendiest Portuguese and not properly attired American/Canadian/Australian bunch. The Portuguese stay out as late - the club hadn't even closed yet when we left at 5:30am!

Lisboa

It is hot. Very hot. Sitting in a pleather chair in an internet cafe with computers from 1999 doesn't help with the heat...



After arriving in Lisbon at about nine, I attempted to follow the hostel's directions. Unfortunately, I got off the bus approxiamately twenty minutes before I should have and then got lost in the metro system (why why why are the tracks on the wrong side of the platform?!). I finally found the Oasis Backpacker's Mansion in the bustling Bairro Alto quarter. It sits at the bottom of a windy little street off the main boulevard in its neighborhood. The yellow outside matches the Ikea inspired inside. It is by far the chicest hostel I've ever stayed in.



I left the hostel and wandered around the city for a couple of hours. The 28 tram line goes all around the city and after mistakenly getting off several times, I got a fabulous ride through the city for what should have been €1.40. Lisbon is hilly and charming and very much an Old World country. The sidewalk is all cobblestone, which is slippery but beautiful. If the old Portuguese ladies can do it, I can!

This afternoon, I was too hot to do anything but nap. I met several other people who were feeling the same way! Tonight is dinner cooked by a Portuguese mom and then going out in the Bairro Alto with the hostel.

Last day

Today was the last day of the Johnson plus Hart vacation.

In keeping with the spirit of our vacation, we started off the day separately (actually, we're all getting along well despite the horribly hot weather). Carl, Brendan, and Joan left for the Picasso museum while Steve, Cate, and I took the metro to the Catalyan art museum in Montjuic. We saw an exhibition of war photographer Robert Caro's work. His coverage of the Spanish Civil War in the late 1930s and D-Day is remarkable.

We met up at la Boqueria, which may or may not be the largest open-air market in Europe, for lunch. Brendan's excellent Spanish got us fresh baguettes, apples, nuts, and, our favorite, Manchengo cheese. We wandered around the grounds of the University of Barcelona and then took the Metro to Segrada Familia, Gaudi's Catholic creation. We like the back, with its bunches of fruit and unfinished left side, better than the front, which has an unappealing 1960s feel.

Then it was back to the Hostal Goya to pack. We left the Hostal and ambled down to the Barri Gothic for delicious tapas and ice cream. Good food and great conversation made for a lovely last night!

Montserrat

Some writer or philosopher at some point said something emblematic of Montserrat that I cannot remember nor find on Google Portugal, but it is amazing.

We left Hostal Goya early this morning to get the best/most sugary breakfast ever near Espanya station: churros and chocolate. Nursing sugar headaches, we took the one hour train to Montserrat. It was perhaps the most beautiful train ride I've ever taken, Carl, passing warehouses, shanty houses, and muddy rivers.

Once we got to Montserrat, we took big yellow gondolas up to the monastery. The view of Catalonia is, excuse the cliche, breathtaking. The monastery is nestled in between monstrous mountains whose shape changes constantly as weather erodes them. We took audio tours of Montserrat and saw the famed Black Virgin, the Basilica, the Boys' School, and, most importantly, the beer dispenser/cafeteria, where we got beer (and lunch.)

We split up after arriving back in Barca, with Steve, Carl, and Brendan shopping as Joan, Cate, and I went to the aquarium. The aquarium is no Academy of Science, but it does have an underwater tunnel that takes you through the shark tank. Cate and I just about died.

We stopped for delicious tapas of Bikini (melted ham and cheese) sandwhiches and hummus and pita and then meet up with the boyz for dinner. Brendan and I went out for drinks and desserts at 11, crazy partyers that we are. Mojitos and chocolate volcano cake do not mix.