Final Thoughts on Lisbon



I’d intended to write this up on our last night in Lisbon.  But between laundry, packing, and adventures out in the heat to run errands, I just didn’t have it in me, especially knowing we had a 3:30AM start the next day.  But I figured it was worth a bit of reflection, even if now I’m a week into life on Sao Miguel. 

As you can see from our list of possible preferred things to do, we made a good dent:

 

 

 

One big question for us on this trip was how we’d feel staying for a longer time in one place.  On our last longer trip, we moved locations about once a week:  Reykjavik, Paris, Arles in Provence.  It’s hard to know how that would feel with the kids as they are today; it ended up feeling like a little much, like we should have maybe just made two stops versus three.  I left Lisbon feeling like we could really saw a lot of Lisbon and the nearby areas—it was enough time to not feel compelled to go-go-go all the time while also being enough time to see the sights we were most interested in.  It was nice to have a place to feel like home, nearby grocers we got to know, some routines (like daily gelato) that could be established.  Leaving Lisbon after 12 days really cemented the idea that we need to try more often to have two-week long vacations to decompress, really feel the time for adventure, sightseeing, R&R and needed down time.

At this same time, I think we also left Lisbon feeling like we might have been even happier in some of the nearby, smaller towns.  While I love living with the conveniences and benefits that come from being in a bigger city, on vacation, I don’t mind having fewer choices and a quieter life.  In retrospect, I would have happily spent a week in Sintra and a week in Sesimbra, both coming in around 30,000 people.  Towns that are not full on built for tourists but still have a good handful of interesting things to do (usually involving some hiking/walking/being outdoors) and some of the conveniences of having some tourist trade (decent restaurants). 

Last views of Sintra--was definitely sad to leave here after just one day

 

Sesimbra--cute beachside town that we could have easily spent more than a few hours in

 

 

This hike by the westernmost point of Portugal was another highlight--with better preparation, we could have made quite a hike out of it

In retrospect, this was true for Tyler and I on our trip, too.  Toward the end we had the same realization, which led us to stay in places like Pushkar and Bundi, in Rajasthan in India, versus Udaipur.  Or Veliko Tornovo, Bulgaria, versus Sofia.  (Or, for that matter, seeing only Tasmania versus anything on mainland Australia.) 

As I’ve gotten older, I also feel more keenly the loss of really getting to know a place by not knowing the language.  Portuguese just throws me for a total loop.  (One example:  Setubal looks like it should sound like “Set-too-bull”.  Nope, it’s “Schtu-bul”, naturally.  I’m sure if I took a few lessons or did Duolingo I’d at least understand the logic of the sounds, but that just wasn’t something I could squeeze into our pre-trip schedule.)   While we could easily get by with ordering, going to tourist locations and otherwise getting around town with English, I know we’re getting such a moderated understanding of Portugal.  Sadly, I don’t have the “language gene” and don’t easily pick up languages, so that’s not likely to change anytime soon, but I notice it more than in my younger days.

I can also tell we still straddle the inclinations between budget, longer-term travelers.  Tyler and I are still inclined to walk/bus/train versus cab/car for getting from Point A to B.  Pack lightly so we can carry our stuff as needed.  Figure out how locals do things versus tourists.  Sometimes with the kids this may work against us, but maybe it’s not a bad ethos to instill early on.

One thing about travelling as a family that's good and bad is we tend to get more roughly on the same schedule.  The kids go to bed, sleep later.  It's makes planning easy, and is convenient because, even with two bedrooms, our places are usually pretty cozy.  But it does mean that Tyler and I get *less* one-on-one time together than at home, where we usually have a good hour or two between the kids' bedtime and ours.  I tend to be ready to sleep with the kids.  (Hence Tyler's more prolific blogging--gives him something to do while the rest of us sleep.)  One positive development is that often the kids are more interested in talking to each other over dinner, so we do sometimes get some time together then.

 



A bit of time with the boy over dinner

 

As for final thoughts on the kids?  Well, Stella left only wanting to call Lisbon “Lisboa.”  Otto gained a lot of confidence in navigating the narrow, often sidewalk-less streets. 

Here are the kids' thoughts on staying in Lisbon, their favorite things, and if they would have preferred to move around more:

Per Stella:  “It was great, and it was nice and relaxing with lots of fun things.  My favorite part was all the cool beaches.  Oh, and I liked the Ascensor.  I would have rather moved around more."

Per Otto:  “OK.  I'll be the same as Stella."

Being cute together

 

Despite Otto's lackluster response above, he was legitimately pretty thrilled with this hike

 

Sounds about right.  We definitely know the kids love beaches, generally like hikes, and--frankly--probably would be just as happy in Kauai right now...

I’ve definitely left Portugal wanting to see more.  We didn’t get south to the Algarve region, which is full of parks and more rustic beaches.  We didn’t get north to Porto.  I don’t know when our travels would bring us back, but I leave with an appetite for more, which doesn’t seem like a bad way to depart.

 



Day 20: Arrival in the Azores!

Day 20
This morning was a rough one. There's just no good way to wake up at 3:30am to catch a flight. Sarah and I actually did a great job of pre-packing, getting the kids and ourselves to bed at a reasonable time and being generally prepared... but you are still getting up at 3:30am.

With kids.

So, we got up, got ready, got the kids ready, said a tired goodbye to our apartment, and all blearily stumbled down the stairs and out onto the street to catch our ride to the airport. Fortunately, the car service we'd arranged was timely and the roads (being that it was 4:30am now) were pretty much completely empty.

Totally awake on the streets of Lisbon, at 4:30am.

The driver dropped us off at the terminal for Easy Jet, which basically looked more like an IKEA warehouse with no furniture than an airport terminal, and after making it through security and a short wait, we boarded our flight and away we went to the Azores.

The flight itself seemed to go really quick. Partially because we were nodding off the whole time, and partially because Sarah and I had thought the flight was supposed to be 3 and a half hours and it turned out to be 2 and a half. Score.

Landing on Sao Miguel was one of those experiences where you look out your window and think: "Oh, we are just landing in the ocean" only to have land show up at the last minute. Our plane then taxied up to the terminal, next to, like four other planes, which seemed to be maximum capacity for the airport. Then we unloaded directly onto the tarmac and walked into the terminal... something that, no matter how many times I've done it, always feels cool and novel. Sort of how you'd expect vintage James Bond to disembark from a plane.

Old-school disembarking from our plane. Just strutting across the tarmac.

In the terminal we were met by a representative from the car rental company Sarah had arranged. And, as we filled out our paperwork, I began to get the sensation that we were renting one of only a few cars they had to rent. As though crashing the car might kill 33.3% of their business.

Hooked up with our Fiat, we loaded the kids and hit the road. First up was a grocery store in Porto Delgada, to get some supplies. Or, rather, first up was getting quasi-lost in Porto Delgada. Either way, it allowed us a quick view at Sao Miguel's largest "city." With less than 70,000 inhabitants, and it's narrow streets and low lying buildings it barely felt like a village in comparison to the hustle and bustle of New York and Lisbon.

Eventually, we found a grocery store that was pen, despite the fact that the owners didn't seem to be bothered with turning the lights on, and with groceries in hand, it was back in the car and on the road to Mosterios, on the islands Westernmost coast.

Making our way down the windy roads, we were in awe of how green everything was in comparison to Lisbon (well, Sarah, Stella and I were, Otto was asleep). The green landscape punctuated by what we would learn are omnipresent hydrangea bushes, with their bright blue flowers. Hydrangeas everywhere. It was still early morning, and instead of being sunny, it was actually a little overcast and blustery, with a misty rain blurring our windshield from time to time.

About 45 minutes later, we peeled off the main road, and dove down a steep zigzag of asphalt to Mosterios. The directions Sarah was following led us straight to the house, a funky, old yellow building perched directly above Mosterios' black-sanded public beach. Waiting for the homeowner to arrive, we realized that we'd messed up telling her our arrival time, because of our time change; so we decided to take the kids down to look at the beach while we waited.

A view of our rental. It's the small yellow house on the left. Pretty crappy location.

The view from our rental. Equally crappy.

Still windy and grey, the surf at the beach was intimidating, with huge waves crashing violently on its sandy shores. We were only made slightly safer feeling by the pair of lifeguards who sat smoking, huddled on some umbrellas. Still, the kids were thrilled. And, despite our attempts to discourage them they were both soon frolicking in the surf. Otto, still in his pajamas, had soon taken his shirt off, and rolled up his now-soggy pajama pants and was facing the coming waves like a Viking warrior, despite still having no idea how to swim.

Man versus nature. In this case, "man" is 6, and doesn't know how to swim, but still.

Eventually, the person showed up with the key, and we were let inside and made ourselves at home. That basically involved dumping our stuff in the entry, firing up a show on the iPad for the kids, Sarah promptly crashing on the bed, and me wandering around in a daze, half unpacking groceries.

A little while later, it was time for some lunch, so we wandered into town, looking for a restaurant, only to discover that Mosterios is so small it only has, maybe, five restaurants in the whole town. And that, aside from one "reservations only" Italian place that is open from 8pm to 11pm daily, they all pretty much have identical menus. So, after a death march looking for additional, non-existent food options, we made our way back to one of the two places we'd spotted.

The wait to get a seat proved surprisingly long, but the people running the simple restaurant were accommodating and nice, and Sarah and I both enjoyed our first bifana, which is a pork sandwich we seems to be sold pretty much everywhere.

After lunch, it was back to the house and then down to the beach for another round of watching the kids attempt to drown themselves in the still-enormous waves. Sarah and I were both amazed at how much energy they both seemed to have after such a long day already. But, eventually the tuckered out, and we headed back to base camp.

Black sand beach!

Heading out for another meal for dinner seemed daunting, so instead I walked over to a small market we'd noticed earlier and got some additional groceries, which Sarah then used to whip up a dinner of pasta and salad at our new place.

Sarah and her helper make dinner. Photo taken through a small peephole into our funky little kitchen space.

Exhausted, but excited about our new location and the coming days of exploration, we all crashed.

Days 18 & 19: The final days in Lisbon

Day 18
After nearly two weeks in Lisbon, we knew things would be wrapping up so, and since we also knew the last day would be filled with last minute chores, we figures this penultimate day would be a good day for one last big adventure.

Sarah and I both thought out first time renting a car was really successful, so that was what we initially thought would be a good idea, but when we suggested it to the kids, they balked at the idea: "We ride in cars all the time at home, but buses and trains are different." So, Sarah looked into how to head south by bus, while I moped a bit.

In the end, for what we had planned the train or bus didn't make sense, so it was Stella's turn to mope, while I reserved a car.

That morning, we hiked down to the car rental place, picked up our car and (after getting lost for a bit in Lisbon) we were on our way. We crossed the Tagus on the Ponte 25 de Abril bridge, which is supposedly a twin to the Golden Gate Bridge; and drove past the Christ the King statue, which is supposedly inspired by the Christ the Redeemer in Rio and headed due south to the beach resort town of Sesimbra. The idea was to grab lunch there, and then head to the beaches inside Arribida Natural Park.

Parking our car (illegally, apparently, as it scored us a parking ticket), we walked down to the waterfront to find food. While we found a decent lunch spot with beer and a nice view, the view proved a little problematic, because Otto couldn't understand why we wouldn't just hit the giant beach which was spread out before us. But we ended up distracting him with gelato, and headed back to our car.

Stella, also skeptical of why we wouldn't just stay on this perfectly fine beach. (They even made a "sales pitch" as to how a certain part of the beach was less crowded, and therefor perfect for us.)
Our departure from Sesimbra was only slightly delayed by the car in front of us stalling on a steep hill. This rapidly caused a huge back up of traffic, and groups of people began to gather around, presumably all shouting their thoughts and advice on how to get it running or out of the way. I climbed out to do my part shrugging and grinning like an idiot tourist. Eventually, a random guy wandered around the corner, jumped in the car, and managed to start it long enough to creep it out of the way, allowing traffic through. And we were off!

...until we managed to get lost on the fringes of the Natural Park. While following directions from Sarah, I panicked and swerved onto a side street. Rather than double back, we decided to forge ahead and see if we could find a new path... which lead us in a giant, 15-minute-long circle back to where we started.

So, back on track, we followed the actual route this time and wound our way into the park. The park itself was quite beautiful, with Cliffside roads running through scrubland with views of the ocean below. Sarah had learned in Sesimbra that the road that ran along the waterfront was one way, going in the opposite direction, so we had to drive east on a upper road before dropping down to the lower road to reach the beaches. But, this was fine, because it offered us a chance to take in the coastline from a number of viewpoints.

Me posing next to our rented Audi, overlooking the stunning Atlantic coastline.

On the lower road, we quickly saw why the road was one way, because people had basically co-oped the other lane as parking for vast lengths of the road. After having no success finding parking for the first beach, we managed to grab a spot on the road ourselves, and make our way down to the second beach, via a steep, winding dirt path.

"What's a Sesimbra?" The kids have obviously forgotten the previous beach, now that we've arrived.

This beach was quite nice, with enough people to seem busy, but not oppressively so. But, after watching the kids play there for 30 minutes or so, I began to notice people making their way through the shallow waters on the right, around a rocks ledge to some other location. My curiosity piqued, I decided to check it out, first with the kids, but then on my own, after realizing the water got too deep for Otto to easily manage.

Around the corner was a second beach. Smaller, but even less crowded. Making my way back to Sarah and the kids, I told them that it looked like Sarah and Otto could reach the new beach through a network of trails, and that I could take Stella around via the water (since it was fun), and we all quickly met up at the new beach. There we spent the rest of the afternoon playing, and I fought the urge to see what was around the next bend.

Otto overlooking the "new beach." Far fewer people and just as stunning.

Family beach time!

Finally wrapping things up, we made our way back to the car, changed out of our swim gear, and hit the road again. Sarah had read up on a lighthouse not far from Sesimbra that was near an old pilgrimage spot and known for it's windswept desolation. And, since Sarah and I are fans of some good old fashioned desolation, we headed there.

The kids were less excited, that is until we pulled into the parking lot near the lighthouse, and discovered a snack truck selling fresh-made churros. They kids had never had churros before, but they successfully sold the kids on this final sight seeing location. (They were excellent churros, it must be mentioned.)

Someone likes churros!

After our snack, we made our way around the cliffs surrounding the pilgrimage church and housing, being blasted by some of the strongest winds I've ever felt the whole time we walked. Gone was the sunny day, and lapping waves of the beach we'd just left, replaced by an unrelenting gale of wind. In the end, it did deliver on the desolation.

How windy was it? This windy. (Also, note lighthouse in the background.)

So, having filled our day, we made our way back to Lisbon, dropped off the car and headed back to our apartment, exhausted and smelling of sea air.

Day 19
Partially driven by the kids being exhausted from a day on the beach and riding around in a car, and partially driven by our need to get chores done before we headed out, our final day in Lisbon was going to stay a little more lowkey.

While Sarah and planned what we needed to do to get ready to head to the Azores, we let the kids rattle and wrestle around the apartment, playing some unending and ever evolving game of Pokémon Battle School, or something. Then, as Sarah began packing, I did another laundry run to my Most Favorite Laundromat Ever. Then it was lunch, before heading out to run a couple of errands.

Sarah wanted to hit the Post Office and a Pharmacy, but as we were walking we passed a barbershop that looked like Ernest Hemmingway had set-designed a hangout for Ponyboy and his gang from the Outsiders. It looked cool, I've been in desperate need of a haircut, and the barber was just hanging out, so we popped in to see if I could get a cut.

"Sure, but we are a gentleman's only establishment," he replied, giving me a look telling me that the non-Gentlemen in our group would have to leave. So, Sarah and the kids gratuitously stepped outside while I had my most sexist haircut experience ever. Sarah eventually ran to the Post Office to finish that errand, while I got a cut and beard trim. The kneejerk liberal part of me still isn't entirely sure how I felt about the "men's only" rule, but I will admit it was a fun haircut experience, and I couldn't argue with the free beer they gave me while I was groomed.

A photo from outside the barbershop. As Sarah noted: "At least, but not sitting inside, I didn't have to explain to the kids what a 'Playboy' was."

Stepping out with my new pompadour, I met up with Sarah and the kids and then tracked down a Pharmacy, before heading to the gelato place near our apartment for one last celebratory cone for everyone.

To keep things easy, we let the kids pick dinner, and they chose "the place with pasta," AKA La Petit Café. So, we went back there for our final dinner in Lisbon. Then home, to bed and fearing the 3:30 wake up alarm for our trip to the Azores.

One last sunset over the Alfama. Goodbye Lisbon, you will be missed.

Days 16 & 17: Headed west and exploring town

Day 16
Bolstered by the success of our trip to Sintra, Sarah and I figured it was time to explore farther afield that the Lisbon city limits. So, I went online and rented us a car for the day with the idea that we'd head back toward Sintra, but check out some of the outlying sights we'd missed.

If this trip has taught me one thing its that I've gotten fussy enough that, when push comes to shove, I'd rather have my own vehicle and control my own itinerary, rather than be beholden to the schedules of public transportation. Hoping on a subway to ride a couple stops down is one thing, but navigating the queue, waits and confusing tickets for an hour train ride is another.

Anyhow, we awoke "early" by our standards on this trip, loaded our bags and hiked down the hill to the car rental. Getting the car was simple enough and -all things considered- navigating our way out of the city wasn't that bad either. We rapidly discovered that, while the narrow streets of the old town may we crowded and confusing, once you got outside of downtown, the highways and country roads of Portugal were smooth, coherent and blessedly clear of cars.

So, in no time we were nearing the coast, and entering Sintra-Cascais Natural Park, our destination: Cabo de Roca... the westernmost point in continental Europe. This was something that had been on Sarah's list since the beginning, but which I was also keen to check out. We'd already been to the northwesternmost point of the continental United States and the southern tip of Africa (I've also been to the southeasternmost point of the US), so it sounded good to check another extreme region off our list.

As we wound our way toward Cabo de Roca, more and more motorcycle seemed to roar past us, lane-slipping and passing us with increasing regularity. As we neared the lighthouse on the point of Cabo de Roca, it became apparent that some sort of motorcycle rally or meet up was happening, and literally hundreds of motorcycles filled the parking lot. But, as impressive as their sheer numbers were, the stark and cloudy cliffs of Cabo de Roca were even more impressive.

Sarah and Stella... as far west as you can go in Europe, without falling all the cliffs behind them.

Sarah's commented that, as much as she understands the appeal of a good sunny beach, she prefers the stark isolation of a windswept coastline, and I have to admit that I generally agree. The point itself had an obligatory snack bar and stone cross demarking it, but the most stunning part were the sheer cliffs plunging down to the sea below and the sense of being at the "edge of the world."

After taking that in, we noticed a path winding down into a valley, and then rising to the next bluff. Feeling adventurous, we began climbing down, but after reaching the lowest point of the valley, and climbing up the the other side a bit, we realized we'd probably bit off more than we could chew, with just sandals and only a little water, so we turned back to the more well worn section. Still, it was nice to get some of that sense of isolation, by stepping away from the crowds (and motorcycles) for at least a bit.

"Let's go check it out!" The path looks steep. In reality, it is. And, despite the wind and clouds of the coast, hot and tiring. A nice little side exploration though.

Climbing back into the car, we realized we needed food. Following the road down the coast on our maps, we saw the town of Colares, and figured that would be a good place to grab some food. So, we plugged it into our Garmin and headed out. Unfortunately, as we neared the town, we realized our Garmin had a strange idea about where the town actually was. After it tried to make us pull and impossible 345 degree turn up a narrow alley, we parked and decided to try walking up the alley.

That walk, a half more or so later turned out to be a dead end as the road turned into a rustic road, then a dirt road, then a dirt path.

"I think this path with get us to town." No. It doesn't.

Returning to our car, we consulted Sarah's phone and drove a short distance to where it said Colares was. There we found a small network of buildings, but nothing looking like an organized town. After wandering in a circle there, starving, we ducked into a rustic restaurant serving chicken they were grilling outside... and it ended up being one of our favorite meals of the trip. Simple, but excellently cooked and seasoned chicken with a cheap beer. As I commented, "sometime where you need to be is not where you intend to be."

We left "Colares" happy and full... though still not entirely convinced we had ever actually gotten there.

Since the kids had been troopers so far, their reward was another trip to the beach. We'd read some good things about the beaches outside of Ericeira, so we continued our drive north, along the coast. As we made our way into Ericeira, my heart sank a little. It was obviously a European resort town where the buildings were all cookie cutter condos and the roads, while modern and wide, were packed with the cars of European vacationers looking for a weekend of sun.

(Also, incidentally, but cooler, the roads were packed with vintage Citreon cars, CV2's to be specific. It seems like there was some annual meet up of CV2 owners going on, and one parking lot in specific was overflowing with the charming, unusual looking car.)

Fortunately, punching through town and entering the beach, we discovered something much more manageable. Like the beaches of Cascais, there was a lot of people, but this beach was wide enough, open enough and had enough parking that at no time did it feel over crowded or unmanageable. The waves were bigger and the sand coarser, but the kids were unfazed and happy to have more playtime in the surf.

Soooo excited to be at a beach again. (Really, the kids just think we should have taken them to a beach for a month.)

After letting them play for an hour or so, and after a 45 minute drive back, we dropped off our car and found ourselves back in Lisbon, tired and hungry.

Dinner that night was at a restaurant called La Petit Café. We'd read good reviews about it, and it promised pasta for the kids, so while a little more spendy, it seemed like a good choice. The restaurant was charming and easy going, with a menu of dishes that was a mix of French, Portuguese and Brazilian (with pasta!) that, by not being easily pigeonholed as one of those, and not feeling like it was just catering to touristic expectations managed to just provide really good meals. My Brazilian-style seak was good enough that I would revisit it on a later meal that week.

Photobombed by another random tram, at La Petit Café. 

Day 17
Since Sunday had featured so much running around, we figured that Monday would be a good day to take it easy and stay closer to home. That meant sleeping in, multiple cups of coffee, Otto and I playing some Magic cards, the kids seguing into increasingly rowdy game and some lunch at "home" before finally heading out and about.

When we did finally head out, Sarah had wanted to get some stamps for postcards, so our initial errand was to find a post office and then do some sight seeing around town. After making our way down the hill, and buying more postcards in the Baixa neighborhood, we were given directions to the main post office several blocks away. We made our way there, and then set out toward Bairro Alto, which we hadn't properly seen yet.

We made a quick an impromptu stop to check out the "Sadrines from Outspace" gallery exhibit, which consisted of different artists art pieces created using a common silhouette of a sardine. Clever, and fun to just do something spur of the moment like that.

Sardines. From Outerspace.

Hiking uphill again, we grabbed a drink at a courtyard kiosk, before making our way into the Carmo Convent. The Carmo Convent was a Gothic church whose roof collapse in the earthquake of 1755. At the time, the city didn't have the resources to properly restore it, so they left the ruin standing, with it's giant arches supporting a non-existent roof. Now, tourists can wandering through it, and also explore the attached museum of historical artifacts, including several mummified bodies... which serve as a morbid counterpoint to the biblical symbolism of looking up in a church whose roof is the literal heavens.

Public square drinking is civic drinking.

Literal heavens above, while...

...While very earthly reminders of mortality within.

After that, we peaked around the corner from the Carmo Convent at one of the cities most famous landmarks, the Elevator of San Justa. Build by a student of Gustave Eiffel, the elevator's architecture reflect that same highly filigreed sensibility. Looking at it, and looking at the lines, Sarah, the kids and I agreed that we were happy to appreciate the appearance, without an obligatory ride. So, instead, we hiked several blocks north to catch one of Lisbon's famous Ascensors: Ascensor du Gloria.

The Elevator of San Justa is basically Lisbon's Space Needle, if the Space Needle was a steampunk fever dream built 50 or so years earlier.

Similar in appearance to their famous trams, the Ascensors are simple versions of those built specifically to climb the steep hills of Lisbon's neighborhoods. Fortunately, because little people were getting tired and hungry, there were no lines to speak of, so we paid our Euros and climb right on board. The ride down was fun and novel if also brief, and also pretty much just a service for tourists at this point. But, I still enjoyed it.

If the trams are Lisbon's showboating photobombers, the acsensors are Lisbon's fancifully graffitied little work horse... even if they are only hauling tourists up and down the hills.

After that, for dinner, we made our way back to Time Out's Market, since the kids had enjoyed it, and Sarah wanted a second go at the restaurants there. She and I ended up getting a six course tasting menu from one place, while Stella got a burger and Otto got some salmon ("how do you get your kid to eat salmon?" one nearby couple asked incredulously as he wolfed it down). Then, post gelato, the walk home.

Days 14 & 15: Sintra and the Tile Museum

Day 14
Two weeks of traveling!

We figured that Friday would be a good day to get out of town, so we got moving early and headed toward the Rossio Train Station, in central Lisbon. During out tuk tuk tour a couple days previous, the driver had explained that during WWII and after, because of Portugal's neutral status, the station and neighboring hotel had been a common meeting place for spies (even hinting the Ian Fleming had paid a visit or two), so I was intrigued to check head that direction.

Rossio Train Station. Cloaked in mystery and subterfuge, and now going to take us to go see some quaint village.

While the outside of the station features a fanciful art nouveau entryway, the interior has been remodeled to a more midcentury style. Thankfully, the lines for the tickets weren't nearly as long as the ones at the Cais du Sodre station, and we boarded a train that was (also thankfully) not crowded.

Soon, we were speeding out of the Lisbon, passed it's epic aqueduct, toward the comparative greenness of Sintra and it's surrounding regions. The train was quick and uneventful, and soon we were dumped unceremoniously with a legion of other tourists at the Sintra train station, a kilometer downhill from the historic town center.

Sintra. The Palace of Pena and Moorish Castle lie hidden in the clouds above. 

The walk up to the town center was on a winding road lined with craft vendors and tuk tuk operators, but it was also pleasant and tree lined and a welcome departure after a week in the city. Reaching the town center, we (like the other tourists) began looking for something to eat. Sarah had the smarts to suggest we push on, up hill, and through some side streets; which rewarded us with a restaurant that wasn't already crowded with tourists and seemed to be making a little extra effort in the food department. While the actual food didn't completely amaze, they were coming at things with some thoughtful ideas (smoked cheddar and tomato salad served in a sealed jar filled with smoke) and presentation (a lot of the food items were served in ceramic pots), and the location was peaceful.

Sarah and some artfully presented lunch. 

With food in our belly, we realized that the hike up to the palace (which is the centerpiece of any visit to Sintra) would probably be beyond the kids, so we hired a tuk tuk to run us up there. There were cheaper options, but the lack of hassle was worth the extra money, and the kids enjoy a good tuk tuk ride.

The driver dropped us off claiming (with an unknown level of truthfulness) that the main entrance to the palace would be a longer wait, and entering through the lower garden entrance would be easier. That ended up being a good solution for us, because the remaining 1000 meters or so were winding through a shaded forest, past ponds and ruined garden features to the lower reaches of the Palace of Pena.

Sarah points out duck castles and whatnot in the gardens below the Pena Palace. 

A first peak at Palace of Pena, as we make our way up from the gardens below. 

The multi-colored palace, which adorns the cover our of Lonely Planet did not disappoint. After refueling the kids with cold water and a donut, we first made our way around the perimeter wall, a narrow, vertigo inducing pathway which circles the main building. At first, it proved to scary for Otto, but after Stella and I made it around once unharmed, he mustered his courage for the entire family to make a second lap.

Possibly the only photo of all four of us, so far. In one of the onion-top domes surrounding the palace.

Next it was inside. Dating only back to the mid-19th Century, the palace is still in really amazing shape, and Portugal is in the process of restoring it to reflect how it looked when the royal family fled to Brazil in 1910. That meant that while some rooms were still obviously undergoing restoration, other rooms, such as the queens quarters and smoking room, displayed an amazing decadence in the Romantic style.

After exploring the interior it was back down through the garden, passed the ponds, and onto another tuk tuk ride down the hill. If it had just been Sarah and I we would have tried a second site, like the Moorish Castle or the Town Palace, but the kids were running out of battery power and craved gelato.

After grabbing some gelato in town, and letting Sarah sample the locale pastry, it was back on the train to Lisbon. At home, as reward for our active day out, we let the kids rest and play in the apartment; while Sarah made a delightful pasta dinner. All in all a fun day, and Sarah and I both agreed that while we like the bustle of the city, we also both need the green and relaxation that come from smaller towns; and could have easily spent a second day in Sintra, at least.

Another late-night attempted to get the quint-essential streetcar photo (this one by Sarah). 

Day 15
We'd heard that Lisbon had a good flea market on Tuesdays and Saturdays (both from the owner of our apartment and the tuk tuk driver), so since it was Saturday, and just around the corner, we figured we'd check it out. Hiking up to it, we were impressed by the size of it, spreading over several narrow streets. It looks to be divided into equal thirds of arts and crafts, interesting and authentic antiques and just random junk. Refreshingly, it was surprisingly free of the tourist tchotchkes we'd been seeing in too many stores.

The Lisbon flea market, in the shadow of the massive mausoleum. Definitely some treasures hidden amongst the flotsam and jetsam. 

After exploring it for a bit, we made our way over to the Church of Sao Vincente de Fora. In some ways it was actually more impressive than Lisbon Cathedral, including an organ that it considered one of the best in Europe. Outside the church, in its entry arches, a woman impressively sang opera music. Her voice echoing through the surrounding area.

After checking out the church, we poked into the courtyard which serves as the adjacent monastery's entrance. Cool, with flowers lining the walls, it made for a nice rest, and place for me to name more pigeons.

After going home and regrouping, it was time to head to the Tile Museum, something that Sarah and Stella were excited to do, but Otto and I were a little more ambivalent about. Rather that trying to navigate the buses, we decided to try to walk, which is a decision that quickly became on of this trips sweltering death marches, as we hiked down effectively one long, shade-free street.

Arriving at the museum was a bit of a revelation though. After very little but concrete and sunlight, we were greeted by an entrance enveloped in bushes and trees. We walked in and paid surprisingly small entrance fee of 5 Euros for all of us.

The Museum proved to be surprisingly empty, which would make you think that it was also surprisingly underwhelming, but -quite to the contrary- it exceeded all of my personal expectations.  The tile collection as both large and stunning in it's detail, plus there was all a large and opulent church as it's centerpiece that -frankly- was more beautiful than the other churches we'd visited to far.

Stella strikes a pose in front of one of the rooms. You can see some of the tiles behind her. 

The centerpiece of the Tile Museum, this amazing church. Presumably it was the original purpose of the building, because it didn't have a whole lot to do with the tile work in the other rooms. But: Stunning in it's detail. 

After exploring the entire museum, and taking photos of all the bizarre mythical creatures featured in it's temporary exhibit. We retired to a palm tree shaded courtyard garden, next to the museum sack bar. While the kids ate ham and cheese sandwiches, and played with the turtles and goldfish in the nearby fountain, Sarah and I enjoyed a little white wine and the rare period of peace and quiet.

The turtles are complete unaware of what the kids are planning for them.

Rather than make the death march back to our apartment, we decided to risk a bus ride. After waiting a short bit, and watching the kids play "chopsticks" we were relieved to have a near empty bus show up.

Back at home, we decided to let the kids pick dinner, which meant returning to the view point restaurant we'd eaten at on our second night. That was fine by Sarah and I because we had enjoyed the previous dinner, and appreciated that our slightly longer visit to Lisbon was allowing us to revisit places we liked. Dinner was happy and successful again, like our day.

Day 13: Aquarium and "the future is torture"

Day 13
We'd read in a guidebook that Lisbon had the world's second biggest aquarium, and while some quick Google research now shows that isn't the case (though it is Europe's biggest in-door aquarium!), we were running with that information when we decided that we'd go there for the afternoon. The kids love a good aquarium, and really who doesn't love an opportunity to see a sunfish, right?

So, after some breakfast, we hiked down to the waterfront and sat in the shadows of a pair of towering cruise ships, waiting for our (crowded) bus to take us 15 minutes down the river front to where the aquarium sat amongst the grounds of Lisbon's '98 Worlds Fair.

After piling off our bus, the grounds surrounding the aquarium proved almost as enchanting as the aquarium itself. There was statues, water features, interactive pieces, but eventually we teared ourselves away, bought tickets and entered the aquarium.

Playing under a waterfall, one of the many fun features we ran across just getting to the aquarium.

First up was a "recommended, but not required" video about the negative effects of sound pollution on whales and other mammals in the ocean, which was notable in A) it's refreshing bluntness and B) the fact that it was in English, with Portuguese subtitles, meaning we were part of a select minority who were listening to the dialogue. After that show was over, it was on to the permanent exhibit.

The permanent exhibit was two levels of smaller tanks and exhibits, surrounding one, large, central tank, featuring the previously mentioned sunfish, sharks and a ton of rays swimming amongst schools of fish. The upper levels smaller areas featured a number of seabirds (penguins!) and mammals (otters!), and the lower -more-claustrophobic- level focused on smaller or more rarefied sea life, like jellyfish, seahorses and the like.

The sunfish makes its appearance. I mean, really, it's all about the sunfish, right?

Stella, underwater.

After a quick lunch in the aquarium's cafeteria, which looked like it was a 2001: A Space Odyssey set designed with Ikea furniture, it was on to the temporary exhibit. I've been to a number of aquariums in my days, but the idea of a "temporary exhibit" at one struck me a novel. Ever more so, was the fact that this exhibit seemed to have been designed by a Japanese artist, instead of someone with a marine science background. The conceit was "an underwater forest," with the majority of the exhibit focused around several wall-long tanks, filled mainly with underwater plants and only lightly populated with small fish.

Conceptually, he was speaking of the refreshing and fresh beauty of the natural world, and there was a gentleness to the whole exhibit, down to the ambient music which played throughout. I realized that many of the fish were the same species of fish that I'd had in my own aquarium, back in Junior High and High School. I often talk about that aquarium today as though it were a hassle and frustration, but in my time I cared for those fish and was sad when each died. All these years later, this exhibit left me feeling melancholy thinking about it in a way I hadn't in a long time.

The melancholy beauty of the Underwater Forest.

Emerging from the darkness (and my melancholy) of the exhibit to the sun and grass outside, we noticed the "telecabine," a gondola which ran along the rivers edge, for the length of the Expo grounds. Like the monorail in Seattle, it's a relic from the expo that now functionally goes nowhere, but it looked like fun and the tickets were cheap, so we took an impromptu ride down to the end and back.

"We're on the gondola to nowhere!" (Sung like David Byrne.) Note that Otto has, like, four poses: Faux sleeping (featured), faux punching, tongue out and dabbing.

After that, we caught (possibly the most comically crowded) bus (ever) back to the Alfama, to regroup at the apartment before dinner.

For dinner, Stella had her opinions, but Sarah and I were excited about the idea of going to a place we'd passed though earlier, when quasi-lost in the Alfama's maze. While there are tons of little diners, this place was a large (by Alfama standards) courtyard filled with people feasting on an array meat, which was being prepared on an open-air grill in one corner.

Stella was not into it. While Sarah, Otto and I happily feasted on the piles of bread, cheese, salad, fish and steak we had heaped in front of us, and took in the celebratory air of the whole affair; Stella refused to do little more do more than nibble on some bread and fries, while complaining about the noise, her seat and (most excessively) the smoke from the grills. At one point, a single tear running down her cheek, she announced "the future is torture."

Unfortunately, it's hard to see it, because of the umbrella covers, but this courtyard is filled with revelers who are being forced to eat grilled meat and drink wine. Totes obvious torture.

So, we ended the meal with Stella unhappy with dinner, and us unhappy with Stella. But, with one notably contrary opinion, I'd highly recommend the experience to anyone else.

(I've been trying to do 2 days an entry, but today has been a bit hectic, and I'm feeling a bit spent. So, I'll pick up again tomorrow with days 14 and 15. While I still have nearly a week of Lisbon to write about, we only have a little more than 24 hours until we are off to the Azores. We've loved Lisbon and Portugal, but will be excited for a little break from the city!)