Arriving in Lisbon was a very bittersweet moment. On the one hand, it meant that our trip was almost over. On the other hand, it meant that our trip was almost over. Rolling in on day 15, both Maureen and I were a bit punch drunk. We were both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. GPS lady directed us straight to the hotel, which delighted me to no end. The thought of driving in circles in downtown Lisbon in search of a Sheraton was really the last thing I wanted to do.
We decided that the best way to plan our last stop was to do the bus tours on Sunday afternoon, the tram tour on Monday and then spend our last day luxuriating on the beach. So, we got all of our sightseeing done on Monday and Tuesday, and we saw everything there was to see of the city: two bus tours, a street car tour and a trip to the top of the Sta. Justa elevator (as well as the extra bit up a spiral staircase to the upper tower, which freaked both of us out just a bit). The only thing we did not do was the river tour, but we did that in Porto, and frankly, as nice as it was in Porto, I am just not sure that it added much to our understanding of the city. To spend the time and the money in Lisbon would probably have been a colossal waste.
On Tuesday, our penultimate day, we slept in a little, and decided to be out the door by 11 and on the beach by noon. I looked up on the internet "Lisbon beaches" and found out that Santubal and Portinho were two nice beaches a short distance from Lisbon. We set off in search of sand and sun.
The GPS lady was not all that helpful. Although she asserted that she knew where she was sending us, she was just confused most of the time: "turn half right in 300 meters, now turn left." At one point, close to Santubal, we just turned her off. By 12:45 we were pulling up to Santubal and there was absolutely no place to park. There were cars lining both sides of the very narrow state road which hugged the coast. We decided that, surely, there would be a better place further along. Sure enough, we came to Portinho and followed another narrow lane to a parking lot, which was (of course) packed. It was then that we realized that it was August and all of Europe was on vacation. It would be fairly unlikely to find anyplace off the beaten path to park and sun.
So, resigned that we were not finding a great undiscovered gem of a beach, we decided to return to Lisbon and try to find a beach closer to home base. "ESTORIL! Why did I not think of that before??" We plugged Estoril into the GPS and our lady began to direct us back to civilization. Upon arrriving in Estoril, we kept our eyes peeled for a beach. How hard could it be...? It is a beach town on the coast! But, I will tell you, gentle reader, it is a lot harder than you might think. You cannot see the coastline from the car, you just see water. We went as far as Cascais and decided to turn back. It was on our way back that we spotted a parking lot above a small beach. We drove in and found a spot almost immediately. The beach was reached by a very steep, skinny, stone staircase leading to a small bathing area. We threw down our towels at 2:25, just 2 and a half hours past our originally established ETA.
I was so excited to see sand and water that I headed right for the ocean. Upon reaching the edge, I noticed that there was no sand in the water: it was all rocks. I was immediately gutted. This was absolutely the last kind of beach that the girl with the titanium plate in her leg would want to swim in. Tentatively, I very gingerly took half steps until I was able at least to get in as far as my mid thigh. The water was cold and clear. It was really a gorgeous spot. I wish I could have been more confident in my footing, enough to step a little further out so I could stand waist deep.
I came back in and plopped down on my towel. The heat was overpowering, the sun blistering. However, we baked under the cloudless sky for three hours, getting some really good sun. By about 5:30, we decided to pack it in, since we needed to get back and pack it up at the hotel.
Rather than take the highway home, we decided to take the national road, the N6 and follow the coastline back to Lisbon. About 5 minutes past our rocky beach, we looked down and saw exactly what we had been looking for: a traditional, sandy beach, with lots of parking across the street, without having to scale the side of the cliffs to reach our patch of ground. "Son of a bitch..."
Maureen, ever the optimist, just replied: "Well, at least we know for next time."
Yes. Next time. Now that our trip has come to a close, and we can look back, I am reminded of what Vivetta wrote to me just yesterday. She said, "All good things must come to an end, but with such lovely vacations, you will carry with you the memories of all you have seen and done all year long."
She is right. I will carry with me every part of this trip all year. It will sustain me when things get rough. It will console me when I am feeling trapped. And, the thought of "next time" will save me when I am feeling restless. Next time, indeed.
mercoledì 4 agosto 2010
domenica 1 agosto 2010
Merida
Merida
Back to Spain.
Maureen suggested that we add a night in Spain after Evora and before Lisbon at the end of our trip. Maureen had visited Merida when she was studying in Salamanca several years ago and assured me that it was a town worthy of a look.
I had a bad feeling about Merida because, again GPS lady was not able (or willing) to tell us where our hotel was. We arrived in Merida and went directly to the information office, who told us that a) the hotel was close by, b) there was a place to put the car while we checked in and c) that there was a tour train that would take us around the city. I was pleased by all three pieces of information.
Armed with knowledge, we headed toward the hotel. Sure enough, we found the hotel without any problem. The problem was that there was no place to leave the car while we checked in. So, we circled. On the third pass, I told Maureen to get out and ask inside the hotel what we should do. I couldn't believe that a 5 star hotel did not have a valet out front.
I made two more circles and on the third pass, a spot out front finally opened up. I quickly pulled in and went in to join Maureen in the check in line. When it was our turn, the receptionist asked us if we had left the keys in the car so that it could be parked. ARE YOU KIDDING? DID I LEAVE THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION IN A PUBLIC PLACE, IN A BUSY SQUARE IN SPAIN?? Clearly, she was either really trusting, or was testing the stupid American girls...
After getting settled into our room, we decided to make our way to the Roman archeological site. We walked along the pedestrian plaza and noticed something we had never seen before: Merida has a system of cold water mists that are installed about every 100 feet just about 7 feet above the street. It would have been great, if only the mist had found its way to the ground.
In just a few minutes, we were in the square in front of the Roman theater and amphitheater. It had to have been 150 degrees outside. I thought to myself, "Merida must be Spanish for hell... because it is just that hot..." (Actually, Merida is a Spanish adaptation of the Roman name of the town-- Augusta Emerita. The Roman emperor, Augustus, established the town as a retirement community for his soldiers who had fought in Spain and Britain. This concludes your history lesson.)
We bought our tickets and went into the Roman complex. The sun was so intense that I could actually feel my skin sizzling, my scalp was sweating so intensely that I felt as if I was melting from the top down. After walking and photographing the two structures, it was time for the tour train. We had been told that the train did not take siesta and that it had continuous hours. That was actually not correct information. We stood next to the stationary train and waited. For 45 minutes. Finally, Maureen walked across the square to the icecream stand and asked the man if he knew anything. He said that the train would leave at 4:30, half an hour from that point. So, we waited a little more. We stood with a Spanish family of 4 who had been there about as long as we had. A Portuguese family had thrown in the towel about 20 minutes earlier. At about 4:35, an unassuming young man walked over and asked if we were waiting for the train. It was only when he pulled out a set of keys that we realized he was the driver.
He announced that he could not depart until there were 10 passengers. There were 6 of us there. "Can we just buy the other 4 tickets??" asked the Spanish mother. My sentiments exactly. The driver turned on the engine and almost as if a siren had begun to sing, a whole flock of people approached, ready to get their tour on. "Didn't this guy ever see 'Field of Dreams?' 'If you build it, they will come...'
And come they did. The whole train was full and we set off. The commentary was in Spanish, so I didn't understand a single word... well, not exactly... I understood the random Latin terms the commentator threw out. But, other than SPINA this and LEGIO that and PROVINCIA the other, I really didn't know what the guy was talking about. But, for 3 euros, it was't a loss at all. I was able to see the entire city from the comfort of an open sided tour train.
Merida is (as I understand it) a pretty typical Spanish town. The place pretty much shuts down from about 3 until 6. People eat dinner after 9 and then they sit in the square sipping beers, smoking cigarettes, and watching their kids run amok. After an amazing dinner of grilled steak, then a promenade to the Plaza de Espana, and an ice cold home made lemonade, Merida was redeemed. I really enjoyed my time in this very small city, despite the ominous feeling I has as I drove into town. It is a place I will definitely find again.
Back to Spain.
Maureen suggested that we add a night in Spain after Evora and before Lisbon at the end of our trip. Maureen had visited Merida when she was studying in Salamanca several years ago and assured me that it was a town worthy of a look.
I had a bad feeling about Merida because, again GPS lady was not able (or willing) to tell us where our hotel was. We arrived in Merida and went directly to the information office, who told us that a) the hotel was close by, b) there was a place to put the car while we checked in and c) that there was a tour train that would take us around the city. I was pleased by all three pieces of information.
Armed with knowledge, we headed toward the hotel. Sure enough, we found the hotel without any problem. The problem was that there was no place to leave the car while we checked in. So, we circled. On the third pass, I told Maureen to get out and ask inside the hotel what we should do. I couldn't believe that a 5 star hotel did not have a valet out front.
I made two more circles and on the third pass, a spot out front finally opened up. I quickly pulled in and went in to join Maureen in the check in line. When it was our turn, the receptionist asked us if we had left the keys in the car so that it could be parked. ARE YOU KIDDING? DID I LEAVE THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION IN A PUBLIC PLACE, IN A BUSY SQUARE IN SPAIN?? Clearly, she was either really trusting, or was testing the stupid American girls...
After getting settled into our room, we decided to make our way to the Roman archeological site. We walked along the pedestrian plaza and noticed something we had never seen before: Merida has a system of cold water mists that are installed about every 100 feet just about 7 feet above the street. It would have been great, if only the mist had found its way to the ground.
In just a few minutes, we were in the square in front of the Roman theater and amphitheater. It had to have been 150 degrees outside. I thought to myself, "Merida must be Spanish for hell... because it is just that hot..." (Actually, Merida is a Spanish adaptation of the Roman name of the town-- Augusta Emerita. The Roman emperor, Augustus, established the town as a retirement community for his soldiers who had fought in Spain and Britain. This concludes your history lesson.)
We bought our tickets and went into the Roman complex. The sun was so intense that I could actually feel my skin sizzling, my scalp was sweating so intensely that I felt as if I was melting from the top down. After walking and photographing the two structures, it was time for the tour train. We had been told that the train did not take siesta and that it had continuous hours. That was actually not correct information. We stood next to the stationary train and waited. For 45 minutes. Finally, Maureen walked across the square to the icecream stand and asked the man if he knew anything. He said that the train would leave at 4:30, half an hour from that point. So, we waited a little more. We stood with a Spanish family of 4 who had been there about as long as we had. A Portuguese family had thrown in the towel about 20 minutes earlier. At about 4:35, an unassuming young man walked over and asked if we were waiting for the train. It was only when he pulled out a set of keys that we realized he was the driver.
He announced that he could not depart until there were 10 passengers. There were 6 of us there. "Can we just buy the other 4 tickets??" asked the Spanish mother. My sentiments exactly. The driver turned on the engine and almost as if a siren had begun to sing, a whole flock of people approached, ready to get their tour on. "Didn't this guy ever see 'Field of Dreams?' 'If you build it, they will come...'
And come they did. The whole train was full and we set off. The commentary was in Spanish, so I didn't understand a single word... well, not exactly... I understood the random Latin terms the commentator threw out. But, other than SPINA this and LEGIO that and PROVINCIA the other, I really didn't know what the guy was talking about. But, for 3 euros, it was't a loss at all. I was able to see the entire city from the comfort of an open sided tour train.
Merida is (as I understand it) a pretty typical Spanish town. The place pretty much shuts down from about 3 until 6. People eat dinner after 9 and then they sit in the square sipping beers, smoking cigarettes, and watching their kids run amok. After an amazing dinner of grilled steak, then a promenade to the Plaza de Espana, and an ice cold home made lemonade, Merida was redeemed. I really enjoyed my time in this very small city, despite the ominous feeling I has as I drove into town. It is a place I will definitely find again.
Evora
Evora
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool."
When I was planning my trip through Portugal, even before Maureen was on board, I knew I wanted to visit Evora. When I was in Lisbon before, I kept seeing signs on the road. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I took to the web to learn that there was a Roman temple there. That was good enough for me! It went on the itinerary.
So, we placed Evora on the list just before Merida (also known for its Roman sites), just after Sagres at the end of the earth.
On the way, we saw a sign on the road for a town with a castle (I have become quite fixated with castles on this trip), and we decided to make a side trip. The GPS lady assured us that our castle was only 3 kilometers from the road. And sure enough, we came upon the town with the castle complex on the hill in just a few minutes.
I want to take this opportunity to explain my most basic sight seeing philosophy: before you park at the first lot you find, you have to drive to the destination, and see how close you can park. I live by this rule of thumb. So, with this in mind, we ascended the steep hill, mountain almost, to the crest of the castle. We kept getting closer and closer. Soon, we were in front of the church and were winding through the narrow streets of the village. But, alas, there were no spots to leave the car. "You better be taking pictures! There is no way we could ever get this close to some of this stuff!"
Before I knew it, we had found our way to the end of the only street which could take us out of the village. This narrow street had metal barricades across it. "Now what..." Just then, from the car in front of us (perhaps I was not the only one who lives by the golden rule of sight seeing) jumped an older woman who swiftly moved the metal barricades, leaving them open for our escape. We had done it! We had seen the whole castle-village complex and had never once left the car!
So, on to our destination:
We arrived at Evora just before 2pm and were again on the hunt for our hotel: GPS lady did not think our hotel's address was worthy of including in her bag of tricks. We made three passes around the perimeter of the town when we saw the sign for our hotel: Albargaria Vittoria, a very modest hotel... really more of a motel by my definition of the term. We asked the receptionist what the best way was to reach the city center. She replied that we were a short 10-15 minute walk to the center of town. I looked at Maureen and said, "I'll bet we can get closer if we drive over and park on the other side of town."
Famous last words.
We drove over to the other side of town, where the temple to Diana was (although, most scholars agree that Diana was not the goddess worshiped there). Rather than park and walk up, I suggested that we drive inside the city walls and see how close we could get. I must admit that Evora's streets are very, very narrow, in fact, the narrowest I have seen on this or any trip I have taken. At one point, I feared we woudl get stuck between two pillars. But, we made it through, seeing many nooks and crannies generally off the beaten path. Then, as if by magic, in front of us sprung up the temple. We slowed down, took out our camera and snapped away. Objective reached!
Not ready for the adventure to end, we decided to stop for lunch (Maureen had seen a McDonalds sign when we came into town) and plot our next move. Besides, we had seen all of Evora. We needed to move further afield.
Over a couple of Big Macs, we opened up our guide books and skimmed the sections around Evora. Maureen found the money shot:
"Hey, listen to this one: 'Monseraz is a quaint hill town where women sit along the roads crocheting and bitches lie at their feet with distended teats.' What do you think THAT means?"
"I think that means we have found our new destination. I want to see some bitches..."
So, we were off to Monseraz.
In about 45 minutes, we arrived at a hill-top castle at the edge of the largest lake in all of Europe. We made our ascent, this time, passing no cars, no people. When we got to the very tip top of the hill, he were forced to park in a lot, but this lot was not like the lots we had seen earlier. This one was almost completely empty. Ours was one of 3 cars in the lot. We started up the sharp incline set before the ramparts. Upon entering one of the stone gates, Maureen made a very startling observation:
"I think we are the only ones here."
She was right. There were NO people out and about. There were NO sounds coming from the houses, which were all closed up tight. It was like no one was home and we were letting ourselves into someone else's house, uninvited. We walked, took pictures, looked around. Eventually, we found a small gift shop which was open, and within a couple of minutes, we were joined by a German couple. At "rush hour" Maureen counted 9 people total hobbling along on the uneven cobblestone avenue.
After about 45 minutes of wandering around, we decided it was time to return to 'civilization' and returned to the car. The problem was that the way we came in was all one way and we couldn't find the way out. Maureen plugged EVORA into the GPS and the GPS lady started our directions back. However, GPS lady was a little confused and she directed us to another (out of bounds) area of the town. But, it was really fortuitous that we ended up where we did.
"Maureen! Look!!"
And sure enough, we were sitting on a hill directly opposite from the village we had just explored. We had a unique vantage point from which to snap pictures. It was almost as it we were standing over the town and someone had tilted it toward us for a better view.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool." We didn't see any bitches, but we did end up in a completely unpredicably cool place.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool."
When I was planning my trip through Portugal, even before Maureen was on board, I knew I wanted to visit Evora. When I was in Lisbon before, I kept seeing signs on the road. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I took to the web to learn that there was a Roman temple there. That was good enough for me! It went on the itinerary.
So, we placed Evora on the list just before Merida (also known for its Roman sites), just after Sagres at the end of the earth.
On the way, we saw a sign on the road for a town with a castle (I have become quite fixated with castles on this trip), and we decided to make a side trip. The GPS lady assured us that our castle was only 3 kilometers from the road. And sure enough, we came upon the town with the castle complex on the hill in just a few minutes.
I want to take this opportunity to explain my most basic sight seeing philosophy: before you park at the first lot you find, you have to drive to the destination, and see how close you can park. I live by this rule of thumb. So, with this in mind, we ascended the steep hill, mountain almost, to the crest of the castle. We kept getting closer and closer. Soon, we were in front of the church and were winding through the narrow streets of the village. But, alas, there were no spots to leave the car. "You better be taking pictures! There is no way we could ever get this close to some of this stuff!"
Before I knew it, we had found our way to the end of the only street which could take us out of the village. This narrow street had metal barricades across it. "Now what..." Just then, from the car in front of us (perhaps I was not the only one who lives by the golden rule of sight seeing) jumped an older woman who swiftly moved the metal barricades, leaving them open for our escape. We had done it! We had seen the whole castle-village complex and had never once left the car!
So, on to our destination:
We arrived at Evora just before 2pm and were again on the hunt for our hotel: GPS lady did not think our hotel's address was worthy of including in her bag of tricks. We made three passes around the perimeter of the town when we saw the sign for our hotel: Albargaria Vittoria, a very modest hotel... really more of a motel by my definition of the term. We asked the receptionist what the best way was to reach the city center. She replied that we were a short 10-15 minute walk to the center of town. I looked at Maureen and said, "I'll bet we can get closer if we drive over and park on the other side of town."
Famous last words.
We drove over to the other side of town, where the temple to Diana was (although, most scholars agree that Diana was not the goddess worshiped there). Rather than park and walk up, I suggested that we drive inside the city walls and see how close we could get. I must admit that Evora's streets are very, very narrow, in fact, the narrowest I have seen on this or any trip I have taken. At one point, I feared we woudl get stuck between two pillars. But, we made it through, seeing many nooks and crannies generally off the beaten path. Then, as if by magic, in front of us sprung up the temple. We slowed down, took out our camera and snapped away. Objective reached!
Not ready for the adventure to end, we decided to stop for lunch (Maureen had seen a McDonalds sign when we came into town) and plot our next move. Besides, we had seen all of Evora. We needed to move further afield.
Over a couple of Big Macs, we opened up our guide books and skimmed the sections around Evora. Maureen found the money shot:
"Hey, listen to this one: 'Monseraz is a quaint hill town where women sit along the roads crocheting and bitches lie at their feet with distended teats.' What do you think THAT means?"
"I think that means we have found our new destination. I want to see some bitches..."
So, we were off to Monseraz.
In about 45 minutes, we arrived at a hill-top castle at the edge of the largest lake in all of Europe. We made our ascent, this time, passing no cars, no people. When we got to the very tip top of the hill, he were forced to park in a lot, but this lot was not like the lots we had seen earlier. This one was almost completely empty. Ours was one of 3 cars in the lot. We started up the sharp incline set before the ramparts. Upon entering one of the stone gates, Maureen made a very startling observation:
"I think we are the only ones here."
She was right. There were NO people out and about. There were NO sounds coming from the houses, which were all closed up tight. It was like no one was home and we were letting ourselves into someone else's house, uninvited. We walked, took pictures, looked around. Eventually, we found a small gift shop which was open, and within a couple of minutes, we were joined by a German couple. At "rush hour" Maureen counted 9 people total hobbling along on the uneven cobblestone avenue.
After about 45 minutes of wandering around, we decided it was time to return to 'civilization' and returned to the car. The problem was that the way we came in was all one way and we couldn't find the way out. Maureen plugged EVORA into the GPS and the GPS lady started our directions back. However, GPS lady was a little confused and she directed us to another (out of bounds) area of the town. But, it was really fortuitous that we ended up where we did.
"Maureen! Look!!"
And sure enough, we were sitting on a hill directly opposite from the village we had just explored. We had a unique vantage point from which to snap pictures. It was almost as it we were standing over the town and someone had tilted it toward us for a better view.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool." We didn't see any bitches, but we did end up in a completely unpredicably cool place.
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