Photos

HELLO...again here are a few notes culled from my journals...

Lisbon made me want to come home! For the first time I was visibly homesick! It was the bridge they call April 25th Bridge that made me want to get on a plane and head for home. That bridge looked so much like the famous San Francisco landmark...the Golden Gate Bridge in shape, colour and construction. According to our local guide Isabela, the makers of this bridge is the same company that constructed the Golden Gate. And they had the design in mind because Portugal wants to be prepared for an earthquake. In the late 1700´s Lisbon was struck with a powerful quake, so powerful that half the city was destroyed and a third of its population perished. So, I suppose copying the design of the Golden Gate Bridge is not so bad after all.

Another monument design “stolen” by the Portuguese is the Christ the King statue whose original is in Rio Janeiro, Brazil. Overlooking the bay and the pseudo Golden Gate Bridge, Christ the King dominates the south shore. The other bridge that spans the bay and connects Lisbon’s north and south shores is the Vasco de Gama Bridge.

Alright enough of the landscape...our Portuguese dinner was at a local restaurant specialising in seafood. I had the swordfish swimming in olive oil...I literally had to drain it or else my heart will just stop beating right there and then. It was good...very flavourful, but what got me hopping with excitement were the appetisers. They served us freshly baked breads and some sort of tuna spread and octopus cooked in vinegar and olive oil. There was fresh salad with baby asparagus. And the red wine flowed like the water. OH!!! The food and drinks were excellent! And while having our dinner, Fado or “Fate” singers entertained us. The songs were soulful. The men singing were full of anguish and the ladies were sentimental in both hand gestures and facial expressions. I am sure (if only I understood Portuguese) that they were singing of some doomed event or fateful incident in the past. The Portuguese it seems have a propensity to dwell on the more dramatic happenings in their lives. They sing of doomed fate...

Well, while in a cab on the way back to the hotel, my companions and I certainly felt that our fate for that ride will end up in doom! The Portuguese are generally mild mannered and polite people but, just don’t let them get behind the wheel! They turn into driving madmen and road rage is certainly a reality here. Our driver was zigzagging on curved streets, cutting across lanes without using his signal lights, and I believe his foot never even touched the breaks the entire time he was driving! It was always on the gas! Oh my God! We all buckled down for that ride, but that didn’t seem enough. I still I grabbed my seat. Good God! Talk about reckless driving! The only saving grace of the ride (or so we were consoling ourselves) was the fact that the cab was a Mercedes Benz. Someone told me that this car is made tough to withstand the most fatal of car crashes...well, that might be true, but I still say that the driver was hell on wheels!

CASCAIS. The farthest point in continental Europe before falling off the waters of the Atlantic. To mark this point is a cross and a lighthouse. The cross has the latitude and longitude bearings which our guide pointed out as dead straight towards Washington DC...AH!!!!! For the second time I felt homesick! The coastline reminded me so much of Highway 1 in California and if I just jump in the cold water I could swim home.... oh...oh....boo hoo hoo hoo...sniffle..sniffle..give me a hanky please! The drive down towards Cascais town proper is like the drive between San Francisco and Monterey. Big Sur has some competition with the pristine beaches of Cascais as well. And the lighthouse reminded me so much of Point Reyes. I was indeed homesick!

In Cascais town proper, we had lunch at a local dive called Dom Manolo. Now, I wouldn’t normally be writing about this but, something amusing happened during lunch. Audrey and Erica ordered the less adventurous omelette while I had the grilled squid. Hey, I am already in a place where seafood is bountiful, so I might as well take advantage of it. (And yes Herolin, I ate bait while in Portugal...all the time, so stop laughing!) Anyway, I ordered the squid and was busy de-spining it and thinking I was doing an excellent job because I only had to cut the body twice! Well, one waiter was apparently watching me the whole time I was doing this delicate operation. He came up behind me, pardoned himself, grabbed my knife and fork and proceeded to instruct me on how to properly de-spine my squid. He made a small cut from the base and pulled the spine in one swift, neat, exquisite movement. He then bowed and left me alone to feel embarrassed! My face turned beet red and my lunch mates didn’t help the situation. They laughed at my obvious discomfort! Now this scene reminded me of a similar event where a certain history teacher from Philly showed me how to properly strip Maryland Blue Crabs of its meat. What is it with me and seafood and men wanting to show me how to do seafood right?! And Herolin, rest assured, the guy didn’t use his bare hands, unlike you, while showing me how to de-spine the squid. So, he couldn’t have sprinkled some exotic love potion on my food! Shame! I could have been falling for a true blue Portuguese man.

OH!!!! MY!!!! GOD!!!! The one thing the Portuguese have over the Spanish is the number of good-looking men! I thought that a good majority of Spanish men are handsome, but the Portuguese outnumber them! My head was constantly turning and my eyes were feasting on the parade of hunks!

The other thing the Portuguese have over the Spanish is their shopping malls! The malls like Colombo and Vasco de Gama is just like the Great American Mall, only the prices are in Escudos! Everything is cheap! Affordable even for this tight-budgeted traveller! And yes, I bought a bag...a small one, something I can use as a daypack. But thank God my credit cards were all locked in the safe back at the hotel...I could have made some real dent on my budget thereby cutting my trip short, by at least two months! Good God! The shopping is phenomenal. Already I am dreaming of the day when I shall return just to shop until I drop! Ha ha ha (Dr. Bing, you should have come and joined me here! You would have gone nuts with the shopping! Oh well, maybe next time, we can both do a trip-cum-shopping spree here in Lisbon.)

PIECE OF TRIVIA:

The roaster that is the symbol of Portugal comes from a myth told long. A man was accused of stealing silver and was sentenced to be hung. He pleaded to see the judge and as that was his last request he was granted an audience with the judge at his home. When the accused arrived, the judge was having lunch. The accused man swore to the judge that if he was telling the truth then the chicken the judge was having for lunch will come to life and crow. The chicken did! But the judge still did not believe the man so he sent him back to be hung. With more serious thought the judge recanted his decision and asked for the man to be released, only to find that the man did not die after all. Apparently, the rope used on him broke so he fell to the ground unharmed. From then on the roaster became the symbol of Portugal. So, now you know...my head is indeed getting filled with useless information. I can’t wait to play Trivial Pursuit when I get back home! I am sure to win! Ha ha ha

FATIMA. Still in Portugal, our tour stopped at Fatima. For a non-practising virgin... ehem..Catholic like me, I sure did very religious things --- lit candles, bought holy water and medallions. I was even tempted to walk on my knees like the many pilgrims of the shrine, but I did not. Instead I knelt in front of the statue of the virgin and prayed a prayer of gratitude. I am thankful for this trip and for my continued good luck. After that very solemn visit to Fatima, our tour went directly to another holy spot where the church of Port is located...ha ha ha.. We had Port tasting after Fatima. The lecherous tour continues...

Port. Like the precious ice wine of St. Goar, Germany, I found this drink sweet! Sweet! Sweet! What makes port a palatable drink is the brandy. And the 94 bottle is the priciest libation because it won some gold standard award. The proprietor of the place was unintelligible with her English, so not a lot was said about the harvest and production of Port. Only that the English drink a lot of it. Heck the English drink a lot of any alcoholic beverage, period.

SECOND PIECE OF TRIVIA:

Portugal is the largest exporter of cork in the world. Cork comes from the bark of the cork tree that is native to Portuguese soil. That´it...end of trivia.

I am Mary Grace, feeling homesick in Portugal.
November 1999