Portugal 1
Leslie and I arrived in Lisboa (Lisbon) early in the morning on Thursday, April 21. We had planned to stay only one night and take the train back to Madrid on Friday night, then continue on to Cadiz Saturday morning. As fate would have it, though, the train back to Madrid on Friday was completely booked, so we had to stay two nights in Lisbon and head back to Spain On Saturday night. It threw off the next week of our trip a bit, but I think it was the best thing that could possibly have happened. I absolutely loved Portugal. The streets were quite narrow, even in the nation's capital, and the land was very hilly. Many of the buildings were decorated with beautiful tiled facades. In some ways, Portugal reminded me a lot of Greece. There are the obvious reasons; both are mountainous countries bordered by the ocean/sea. The rea similarity I found between the two countries, though, is much harder to describe. I think it had to do with the fact that both are smaller, less industrialized nations. Walking through the streets in Portugal, I had a very real sense of its culture and its rich history, much the same way I did when I visited Greece several years ago. I felt that these two countries have somehow managed to retain their original identities better than many of their neighbors, who have already become quite Americanized. This isn't to say that either of these countries are backward in any way, and of course, the American influence has permeated both of them to a certain extent. Somehow, though, it feels like the way of life there has changed has changed less over the past several decades than it has in larger European nations. Anyhow, Leslie and I decided to skip Valencia in order to get our trip back on schedule. Both of us had heard from different friends that Valencia wasn't too impressive anyway, so neither of us were heartbroken.
Our hostel in Lisboa was run by a cute little Pakistani woman who didn't mind at all that we needed to stay an extra night. After filling ot some paperwork there, Leslie and I changed into our swimsuits, stored our packs in the luggage room (We couldn't check in until later.), and set out. We saw the Praca do Comercio, a colorful 18th century square facing the bay, and Se Catedral, the city's first church. After stopping for lunch, we took a silver train along the coast to a suburb called Cascais, where we went to the beach. Our beach was quite small, just a patch of sand at the base of a small, rocky ledge, but we enjoyed it. The town was nice as well; it was a cute little seaside village with several cafes and a few small shops.
That night Leslie and I had dinner in a Brazilian restaurant in Bairro Alto, the old part of Lisbon. The highlight of our meal was some kind of cheese; it had a ram logo on its package, and, though neither of us knew what it's name was, we both agreed it was one of the best cheeses we'd ever eaten. Afterward we searched forever for a decent bar and finally ended up in this awful place that resembled a camp cafeteria. After passing a rather miserable evening, we walked back to our hostel only to find that there were two rather fun-looking bars just down the street from it. We were both too tired to drink anymore that night, but we decided we'd come back the following evening.
Our hostel in Lisboa was run by a cute little Pakistani woman who didn't mind at all that we needed to stay an extra night. After filling ot some paperwork there, Leslie and I changed into our swimsuits, stored our packs in the luggage room (We couldn't check in until later.), and set out. We saw the Praca do Comercio, a colorful 18th century square facing the bay, and Se Catedral, the city's first church. After stopping for lunch, we took a silver train along the coast to a suburb called Cascais, where we went to the beach. Our beach was quite small, just a patch of sand at the base of a small, rocky ledge, but we enjoyed it. The town was nice as well; it was a cute little seaside village with several cafes and a few small shops.
That night Leslie and I had dinner in a Brazilian restaurant in Bairro Alto, the old part of Lisbon. The highlight of our meal was some kind of cheese; it had a ram logo on its package, and, though neither of us knew what it's name was, we both agreed it was one of the best cheeses we'd ever eaten. Afterward we searched forever for a decent bar and finally ended up in this awful place that resembled a camp cafeteria. After passing a rather miserable evening, we walked back to our hostel only to find that there were two rather fun-looking bars just down the street from it. We were both too tired to drink anymore that night, but we decided we'd come back the following evening.