The Continuing Adventures of the Nicks: Lisboa, Portugal (October 29 to Nov 1)

 Every time I open my thoughts to Lisbon to attempt a written recapitulation, I truly fail to grip the right statements that could accurately express my experience; this is to say Lisbon left me wordless. It’s true that it does not have the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, nor a Great Wall; what it does possess is a certain hook, an unseen energy that fills its streets and pervades its inhabitants, thus giving them certain mannerisms, that special stride in their step that is unlike any other city I have experienced in my short life. But I can sit here and think of fanciful statements that attempt to describe my experiences in Lisbon, but at some point I must accept the limits of language as a tool to communicate thoughts; for some thoughts do not have words connected to them. Luckily, pictures tend to say more than I ever could anyway, so I will rely on these captured moments of Lisbon to better express my wordless thoughts that fail to take form.

Day one:

From the manner that I have begun to describe and anticipate Lisbon to you, my beloved friends and family, you might be surprised to find out that when we arrived, there was such a downpour that, from the windows of the train, we saw nothing but moisture, Lisbon was just one big raindrop. But I didn’t need sight to know how hard it was raining; when we got off the train and began walking through the station, buckets, no, barrels of rain continuously splattered on top of the metallic roof that was protecting us from the seemingly hurricane-like conditions. This is one place where the chilly winds do blow, and eventually this roof, this supposed protective structure, became obsolete as rain started pouring through the outskirts and corners of the roof. Some poor souls set their luggage down for a minute to inquire about tourist information, and when they returned, their bags were absolutely drenched. I would agree that it is quite rational to assume that your baggage would be safe from unfavorable external conditions when you have strategically placed them indoors, beneath a modern roof, but some times old Mother Nature takes our mortal rationality and rapes and ransacks it. Luckily Nick and I were not the victims of this raping because Alyssa gave me two matching black plastic garbage-bag-esque ponchos that did a fabulous job at combating the old merciless Madre, so our backpacks stayed nice and dry. Besides, we had yet to face the outdoors in person, only the rain from inside the station, and we had to immediately catch an underground metro, so we were able to prolong our meeting with this beastly storm just a bit longer.

Where were we headed anyways? Well, you can rest assured knowing that we did not have to pull another Sevilla stunt; fortunately one day prior, I was able to find us a couch to surf on for the weekend, so we followed the directions straight to Natalia and Sergio’s house, located in the center of Lisbon. All I knew about Natalia was that she was a lover of languages, movies and music, she had a good reputation as a host and as a guest within the CouchSurfing community, and that she was obviously spontaneous because she took us in at a moment’s notice.

Nicogrande and I reached the Matim Moniz stop, which signaled the end of our effortless, protected travels. Surprisingly, Natalia was already waiting at the metro station, so Grande and I didn’t have to follow her sparse directions to her flat.  Instead, she greeted us with big hugs and the ever so European pair of fake kisses on both cheeks, and we headed out together as a fierce trio directly to her flat. The first thing she told us was that we were incredibly unlucky because it almost never rains in Lisbon, and she had never seen any storm like this. As we leaped out into the plaza, the first thing I noticed was the completely flooded street in front of me. Knee deep in water, shopkeepers frantically tried to sweep the lakes of water out of their shops. Lisbon is not built for rain. I just stuck my head down towards my chest and aimlessly followed Natalia to wherever we were headed. Lisbon was nothing more than a massive public shower to me; although I enjoyed the adventurous nature that the rain brought out of me, I never could have predicted the appreciation I would soon have for Lisbon. 

When we stepped foot into their flat, we passed across dark wooden floors that carried two hundred years in each plank. With a communal staircase that ascends through the four-story building, their flat wraps around the entire third floor. This was no apartment for starving college students; Natalia and Sergio proved to be accomplished adults in whatever line of work they may have been in (they never did tell me). They didn’t just live in some temporary space where they could store their belongings; they lived in a home, and I felt lucky to be their guest. Sergio worked until evening, so it was just the three of us for now. From the way that Natalia casually offered us lunch, I learned quickly that she is the kind of person that politely demands honesty; if we were hungry, we just needed to say something, and if we were thirsty, the fridge was open to us—no games or customs. She actually practiced the saying that, “mi casa es tu casa;” Her sincerity was refreshing.

Natalia is an eccentric Polish born woman, but I would better identify her as a “European” more than a Polack because of her rich culture and ability to speak some seven languages. She lived most of her life in Norway with her mother and her mother’s husband, but later Natalia married a French man and lived in a town in France for some years. But I guess things don’t always work out with the French; Natalia and Frenchy split up and she finally settled in Portugal with Sergio, so technically she is married and has a boyfriend because her husband won’t grant her a divorce—classic.

"view" from their apartment

Nicogrande, Natalia, and I sat and ate a Polish potato dish, and Natalia began to tell us her unconventional yet interesting philosophy on life, a philosophy centered on self affirmations (i.e. taking control of what occurs in your life by deciding what will happen, rather than hoping what will happen) and also utilizing the energy of the world. After lunch, us Nicks rolled our pant-legs up, put on our matching ponchos, and went sailing in the oceans of the streets of Lisbon.

Wall Graffiti

We set out for Castilo Seu Jorge, completed in the 11^th Century by the Moors after they took control of Lisbon in the year 711. We twisted up and encircled a steep hill for the better half of an hour until we reached the entrance of the castle. Once we got inside, we found shelter beneath a small man made cave like thing to hide away from the rain for a few minutes. We sat and translated the history of the castle from Portuguese to English using the two different maps we grabbed at the entrance to begin to understand the difference between Portuguese and Spanish. Now what would a Nicogrande and Nicotito adventure be without a little twist? After about ten minutes of rest, miraculously, the rain abruptly halted, the sun now broke through the clouds, and our ponchos were temporarily unnecessary. From the castle, we could see the entire city and a view of the broad mouth of the Tagus River as it joins the Atlantic Ocean

The cave where we took shelter

Looks like SF right?

The castle

Nick found another castle cat!

Guards of the castle

Inside the castle

View of the Tagus River once the storm cleared completely

Flag of Portugal

View from the castle

What's that statue off in the distance???

If you look through this telescope....

Ahhh it's our pal Jesus! Below it says, "Obrigado" (Thank You)

Walking down from the hill into the city, we saw a modestly dressed African man playing a nylon string guitar and singing in Portuguese alone, on a bench. He wasn’t a very talented musician and his guitar was severely out of tune, but he sang with enthusiasm and a great spirit, so we stood there and watched him for a few songs. He tried his hardest to communicate with us in broken English and Portuguese, but we were able to understand that his name was Jon Maclau, the Heart of Angola, and he believed himself to be a Youtube sensation. He was incredibly friendly and even handed me his guitar while he went to the bathroom. Somehow he knew that I played guitar and that I was not going to run off with it. He told us to meet him later at some plaza in the center of the city so that the three of us could perform together (Nick and I had our instruments with us in Lisbon), but Nick and I never fully understood where to go and our hearts weren’t entirely into it, so unfortunately the Heart of Angola Trio never took flight.

12th Century Romanesque Cathedral

They even have trolleys!

And their sunset is not half bad either...

That evening, Nick and I bought food for dinner according to the grocery list that Natalia gave us. Dinner would be for five because Sergio was now home and there was also Christian, a German couch-surfer who was renting a room from them for a month. The entire meal only set us back ten Euro ($13.79); Lisbon would prove to be significantly cheaper than Spain. We brought back the diverse ingredients along with two bottles of Portuguese wine (which I guess is supposed to be some of the best wine in the wine world), and Natalia made a pasta dish that was just as unique as she is. It consisted of your standard garlic, onion, cracked pepper, red bell pepper, olive oil, and various other spices, but then towards the end she added hulled sunflower seeds, raisins, and banana! An incredibly odd mix made by a pretty odd person, but it was fantastic. During dinner, we all spoke English because it was the one language that everyone was completely fluent in. I also got to know Sergio and Natalia as a couple. Physically, they look like a pretty unlikely pair, as Sergio is tan and short and Portuguese through and through, and Natalia is tall and fair; but after a nice dinner conversation, I saw how in love they were with each other, and I began loving this improbable couple. As for Christian, I enjoyed his company a lot because he is a man rich with culture, having lived in Germany, Italy, England, and Spain; and he is living in Portugal for a month to learn Portuguese and then moving to Brazil for three months. He works for a European tea company as a tea designer (i.e. he has the amazing job of thinking up new blends of tea!), and there is a South American Branch of the company in Brazil who wants Christian to come work for them, so he gets to travel through Brazil for three months (for free) and decide if he likes the country enough to live there—tough life right? Like Natalia, he is also fantastic with languages. His outlook on life is very much related to German philosophy in the sense that he has accepted that there is no empirical evidence proving metaphysical topics like the existence of God or the immortality of the soul, so he just lives a life without regrets as if it might be his last. This is not to say that he doesn’t believe in God because Christian is a Christian, but he dislikes when people run around saying with certainty that they are going to go to Heaven or that they will be reborn into a better life because there is no way to truly know with certainty what will happen after death. Maybe there will be nothing; we will just die, and that will be the end of it.

Sergio and Natalia

The room we were staying in...

 Day two:

The sun was shining decently, so us Nicks set out for a day of adventure. We boarded a train and went to Cascais (pronounced Cash-Kie-sh), a quaint town about twenty minutes away from Lisbon.  When we arrived, small sprinkles of rain fell on our optimistic spirits, who just wanted a nice day of sunshine.

I'm not very good at these...

Nicogrande doing Grande stuff

While eating lunch, we noticed a bit of rain start to creep down towards the ground. But as we got outside and continued touring Cascais, that bit of a baby drizzle developed into a complete full-grown downpour. During the ten seconds that it took us to run to cover, we became completely drenched. This rain did not let up for the rest of the day. We put on our matching ponchos (thanks Alyssa!), gathered beneath an undersized umbrella, and pressed on. This was the kind of day intended for cuddling with a cashmere blanket and sipping steaming hot cocoa near an open fire while gaping through a window at the sublime intensity of Mother Nature, but when you’re in Lisbon for three and a half short days, you don’t have time for such tranquil, leisure activities. Instead we battled the elements, practiced our optimism, and even though the weather conditions were pretty miserable and we were freezing cold all day, we still learned for ourselves why everyone speaks so highly of Cascais. 

Before the massive storm

Before the massive storm

Before the massive storm

Before the massive storm

MASSIVE STORM!!!!

Soaked from massive storm. We hid in an elevator for a few moments to catch our breath. 

We found a cool art gallery

Brown water is from river (Brown from massive storm). it dumps into the ocean

Mini adventure next to a cliff

continued mini adventure

That night, Nick and I went out with Sergio and Christian, and we experienced the vast social scene of Lisbon with its 100+ bars and nightclubs. We came across a jazz nightclub and peeked inside to discover that a Portuguese blues band was about to go on.  Nick was sweet enough to buy me a drink, an ice-cold glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. As I’m sure you’re imagination can infer, things then got pretty crazy after that. But all sarcasm aside, things did get pretty wild because the Portuguese Blues band completely blew our minds. They obviously had an extensive knowledge of American blues because they exclusively performed Blues standards by artists like Robert Johnson, Eric Clapton (not American, but plays American blues), Ike and Tina Turner, Leadbelly, and other American artists. The band consisted of drums, bass, tenor sax, and the singer was also the guitarist and leader of the group. You would never expect that a Portuguese man could play the Blues well, but he was full of emotion and possessed an impressive amount of technique and speed. He and his deep purple Telecaster played a wide variety of different blues styles and performed improvisational solos that could easily compete with today’s modern Blues guitarists—sadly I have no pictures or videos to bring more light to this claim.

Day three (Halloween):

We woke up at a decent hour and the whole family hopped in Sergio’s Fiat; Sergio and Natalia wanted to treat us to a day of adventure and surprises. We set out for Serra de Sintra, a unique, luscious green mountain range near Lisbon that exudes peace and serenity. The mountains contain a rare microclimate, so at any moment, the weather can change significantly from that of nearby Lisbon.

On our drive to Sintra

walking through the forest

Fresh mountain spring water

 The first destination they took us to was Convento dos Capuchos, a convent of the Franciscan order built deep within the mountains by monks in 1560. Their philosophy stressed the mergence between human and divine works (i.e. nature), so this convent was constructed using granite and natural cork, both of which were taken from the mountains around them. These Franciscan monks practiced the utmost austerity, and spent their lives worshiping God by contemplating the natural world. Every bedroom inside the convent was about the size of a twin mattress, with a tiny open space carved into the wall used as a window, and a slanted ceiling with a maximum height of about five and a half feet.

Sergio Grande and Me

Christian took this picture of me... It reminds me of a senior portrait when you graduate from high school...Class of 2007

Inside the convent. Notice the cork walls. There were no guards or workers and only a few tourists so it was really peaceful

Dining room

Where does this little trail lead to?

...Oh a spectacular view of the Atlantic Ocean

Sergio, me and Christian

Filled with a calm sense of serenity, we then drove into the charming old town of Sintra. After lunch, Sergio surprised us with a box of rare, delicious pastries that are only made in Sintra, and inside of these tasty treats is “the hair of Angels.” I think angel hair is even better than angel dust.

National Palace

view of another Moorish castle

The whole family

Sintra

Sintra

Sunset during our lttle hike

Once the sun went down, we headed for home, or so Nick and I thought. First we made a pit stop at the “best bar in Portugal,” a giant South American themed bar near the ocean called Don Qui-shot. Then we briefly swung by a giant cliff, which is the western most point of continental Europe. Before scientists discovered that the world was spherical, the Portuguese believed this place to be the ends of the Earth. The wind was so strong that the raindrops hit your face like someone was throwing needles at you. When I tried standing on a rock, the wind literally blew me off within a few seconds. For some reason, this place felt eerie and a bit scary; it really does look like the ends of the Earth. We got back in the car, and Natalia and Sergio told us that they had one more idea in mind. First they made an elaborate joke about how they take Couchsurfers to this deserted beach and eat them, and then they began driving down a thin, lightless dirt road that ended at a beach, so I there was a definite possibility that they were going to eat us. But instead, Natalia told us that we were going to have a quick swim in the ocean; mind you, it was freezing cold, pouring rain, and the most wind I had ever felt. Sergio and Christian made it clear that they were not going in, but for some reason it was expected that nick I would. So nonetheless, we walked down a cliff side, and Natalia took off ALL of her clothes and ran towards the water like a madwoman. Nick and I stripped down into our underwear, sprinted towards the water, and screamed like a couple of schoolgirls. Luckily the waves were so intense that we all agreed it would be a death sentence to actually swim, so we just ran through the breaks in the waves and continued to scream while the wind hurled sand and rain that pierced our skin. The best part was seeing Natalia sit cross-legged in the shallow skim as if she were meditating, and then almost immediately seeing her get thrashed by a wave!

At Don Qui-Shot (look at Natalia!!!!)

 After dinner, we all went out together and celebrated Halloween at a salsa dance club. There we met up with four of the super cool awesome girls that are on the program with us in Valladolid (Spanish names: Cristina, Mónica, Margarita, and Brycé). It was a shame that we only had a chance to see them for one night because they are a great bunch. Although we were not in America, the Portuguese celebrate Halloween as if it were their own, except that in terms of costume technology, they are still in the 1990s, with costumes like vampires, cats, Scream Masks, and the still popular Super Mega Slut. Unbeknownst that Halloween existed in Portugal, Nick and I had to think fast for costume ideas; using every tool that we had, we decided to go as “Two Dudes With Mustaches.” 

Day Four (Nov. 1^st)- Happy Birthday Gamma!!!

            On our last day in Portugal, we took a trolley to a small town next to Lisbon called Belém, we saw some great historic sights, and found a 160 year old pastry shop that makes the famous pastel de Belém, a flaky custard filled tart that made me think about puppies, friendship, and freedom.

Monastary

Belém is famous as the place from which many of the great Portuguese explorers set off on their voyages of discovery. In particular, it is the place from which Vasco de Gama departed for India in 1497

Monastary

The sidewalk in Belem

Sidewalk in Belem

View of the Cathedral

Nick in front of the monument for the discoveries made by Portuguese explorers

Same monument

Belem

At around 2pm, Grande and I returned to the apartment, had one final meal together, and we all gave big hugs and promises of seeing each other again some day.

Sergio and Natalia's apartment... This blue tile pattern was invented in Lisbon and can be seen on a good majority of the old buildings in the city. It is said to help keep out moisture...

Valladolid, Part 3 next...