Back In the Lisboa

Sunset in Lisboa over Bairro Alto

Warrior statue

The palace from the statue

Palace Pena

Palace Pena

Palace Pena

Palace Pena

Sintra, Palace Pena entrance

Ericeira

Ericeira, a beach near Mafra

Crocodile Bill aka me

Mel looking as beautiful as ever

View of the city from an overlook

Football is everywhere, apparently even on stairs

A night trolley in Lisboa

This is an animation I made it may not work

When Mel and I got back to Lisbon, we were still haphazardly living out of our backpacks for another month. We were not slated to go back to Covilhá for a while. On the kindness of a fellow Fulbrighter, we crashed on a couch for another week. He and his wife (who was not there, she was back in the states teaching for her last semester of her PhD) live in a historically Arabic neighborhood, the Alfama. It is closed off from the main streets situated right behind the Sé de Lisboa (or Santa Maria Maior de Lisboa), a beautiful Romanesque and Gothic style parish cathedral dating back to 11th century. When every we wanted to go there we had to walk. Along with us there were two other borders in the Alfama, some friends visiting from the States. We were all like a merry band of bohemians straight out of La Bohiem; living, eating, drinking, touring, and creating together.

Our time in the Alfama came to a close and we packed our bags and headed to another nest in Lisbon, this time in the neighborhood of Bairro Alto with yet another duo of Fulbrighters. Bairro Alto, for you DCers, is like a cool hip Adams Morgan. With its narrow streets, no real car lanes, and plethora of hipster shops and bars; Bairro Alto was the place to be. During the day it was open and clean, but when night rolled around the crowds flooded the Bairro (as stated in an earlier post, the Portuguese word for neighborhood). The apartment was situated on the fifth floor (no elevator) and the sound from the narrow streets funneled up the buildings making it sound as if the party was in our house. It made going to sleep at a decent hour a challenge. After a few days there Mel headed back to Covilhá without me - I had a job to attend to!

Before Mel and I left for our Roman/Grecian holiday, I had interviewed with an English language school in the "beach" town of Mafra (it is less than 10k form the coast, you can almost smell the salted air). Mafra is a tourist destination because of its beautiful Palácio de Mafra (Mafra Palace). The tiny school in the tiny town had hired me and I had to go up for the opening day. When I arrived my bosses seemed rather happy that I had made it, "Great you are here! You are going to be the mascot for the day - Crocodile Bill." I responded with an indifferent shoulder shrug, "okay, sure." I donned a giant Crocodile costume. I have to tell you, I now have a new found respect for those people at Disneyland, those costumes are hot and semi uncomfortable. Luckly I had my recently purchased buff with me, this multifunctional head wear, was simultaneously keeping my hair out of my eyes and hindering the Croc head from chafing my chin away. All the while, it was a blast to have this thing on. There were kids running ever which way (some away from me because they were scared) and I was handing out balloons, shaking hands, giving and getting hugs, and walking the streets of Mafra making a spectacle of myself. It was great! I spent at least five hours in the costume and it was draining. I headed back to Lisbon on the hour bus ride drifting in and out of sleep.

Since I now had a job and Mel was only going to be teaching once a week on Friday's we decided to look for apartments in Lisbon. We were discussing our options with some friends when it came up that they too were in the market for a new place. The had come across a wonderful place that was great, but just to big (four rooms when they only needed two). With some talking we all decided to move in together, it worked out perfectly. We now had just over a week until we moved in to the new place. So only a few more days of living out of the backpack - it was now bordering on five weeks.

With our place in check and not much else to do Mel and I decided on a pleasantly beautiful and sunny day, to day trip it back up to Sintra. This time we were not going to be competing against the wind, rain, and fog. Plus there was the added bonus of having a car courteous of PM. For this Sintra excursion we had Pena Palace in our sights. The palace was the summer home of King Carlos the I and his family, the last royals from the monarchs of Portugal. The palace looked like something out of a fairy tale. It was an eclectic mix of architectural styles from Neo-Gothic to Neo-Manueline to Islamic to Neo-Renaissance. A beautiful hodgepodge of colors and angles. The palace sits inside a national park where there were some trails and other monuments to explore. We took off down one of the trails and headed towards a statue of a Portuguese warrior, I had spotted from the palace. It was erected on top of a granite rock formation a few meters ahead of us looking over the castle. Always looking for a challenge we attempted the seemingly climbable rocks. Mel took the lead and was about half way up when I heard her say, "oh shit!" I though she had reached a spot that she could not figure out how to get past. Instead she apparently had ripped her jeans down the middle attempting to cross a wide section. Not one to give up she said "oh well," and continued on up. We made it as far as we could and saw some amazing views of the palace and Sintra. When we turned around we were made privy to a spectacularly clear view of the greater Lisbon area and the coast. We could see for miles. It was an amazing sight to behold. This trip to Sintra was a complete opposite of our previous one. Before we headed back we ended our trip with some queijadas, a local Sintra pastry, a cousin of the pasteis de belem (which we get regularly in Lisboa). Here is a translated recipe if you so please. They were delicious.

We made our way back to Lisbon with change in the air...