I arrived with the crew at the layover hotel and checked in. After a quick nap, which just came natural since my body believed I was on a layover, I made my way into the old city. Fabulous camera in hand along with my guide book, I wondered the streets for hours. The hotel clerk told me to keep walking downhill till I got there. There are old cobblestone streets, Portgauges shops, churro stands, the water kisses the shoe beside a large square. There are seven hills which make up the city and it felt like I climbed all of them. They were gloriously taken in when i cruised to the top of the tower of Justa. The red rooftops spotted the hills while the pale sides glowed in the sunlight. I would compare this city to Barcelona in its outlay although there was different feeling, it did not capture my heart like Barcelona did.
The sun was setting and I walked uphill back to the hotel and happily met the flight deck for dinner as I was wanting company. I changed into heels to look nice for dinner but after re walking the path back to old town and up a few cobblestone street slick with fresh ran, I was missing my old touristy tennis shoes. Dinner was awesome, I had a traditional dish of codfish along with wine and great conversation. We finished with a port wine and then headed to the Chinese Pavilion for a night cap.
Sintra
The next morning I set off for a small coastal town highly recommended by not only my guidebook, but also previous visitors to Portugal.
I always have this theory that riding a city's public transportation makes you a real traveler. Deciphering what the hell is going on and which way to go when there is no English and the knowledge of Spanish is actually working against me. After a couple of changes I was on the correct train. This town was gorgeous and so full of history, I couldn't wait to start exploring but first I had to go to the bathroom. There are no Starbucks, no public restrooms, no Barnes and Noble...all of my NY trips were not available. And el bano is not how you say toilet. So I found a place and ordered lunch even though I wasn't hungry just so I could scan the restaurant for the bathroom. After that I was on my path up the hill to this small village. I had been advised to take a bus up to the Moorish castle but I thought it would be a great idea to walk. That coupled with the fact I had been eating a little too much lately and was hoping to lose some of it on the way up the hill. Well I walked for about a mile with buses passing me and sweat pouring out even though it was only 50 degrees out. I stopped to catch my breath and see how much longer I had. I looked up and then even higher. It seemed like the damn mountain had grown during my journey, that or I was looking at the wrong hill when I started out. So I found the next bus stop and waited. The bus ride was fifteen minutes winding up the mountain. I got off at the very top and bought a ticket to tour the palace.
After another ten minute walk straight up hill, I reached a pastel castle. Each section was a different color. It looked like something a little girl would color in out of a fairy tale coloring book. I wandering around looking at the views of the ocean and imaging what it would be like to live in my very own castle, in the purple wing back in the 14th century.
I headed back to the train station and was delighted to discover the bus took me right there. I went back to old town to pick up a lace something or other for Carol...not what you are thinking...a lace thing to wrap around your head. Don't ask me.
I ran into the pilots and headed out for dinner once again. We ate at a traditional Portgauges place where they come around with every kind of meat you can think of and slice onto your plate. It was a vegetarian's worse nightmare but oh, so good.
First class took me home and the three glasses of wine I had at 0600 my time aided my drifting off.
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