Sintra

This place is on every “must do” list - a day trip from Lisbon to Sintra is recommended by everybody. Our advice - probably don’t bother. It is on the list of just too many people.

The day trip began simply enough. A suburban train ticket from Lisbon’s Rossio station is cheap and the trains run every 30 minutes. However, the long lines waiting for tickets were a sign of things to come.

At Sintra station you need to catch the bus. The bus ticket for the day is triple the cost of the train. The buses are frequent but packed. The journey up the long one-way road starts as a roller coaster and then zigzags vertiginously. We got off at Pena Palace, lined up for tickets, walked up the steep hill to the palace, lined up again to get into the palace for about 45 minutes, shuffled through the palace, ate dismal cafeteria food and finally staggered out into the park below.

Pena Palace was firstly a monastery which was turned into romantic ruins by the great Lisbon earthquake and then the passing of time. By the 19th century Romanticism was rampant and so the king bought up the place and hired a Romantic German to construct a Summer Palace. The resulting mess is very Disney. Photos of the place look great but it just doesn’t feel right. (Have you noticed that postcards never show the crowds? In many of my photos I try to find people-free angles too. So I have deliberately included a warts-and-all photo below.) It is fair to point out that Sintra was probably much more fun before every tourist in Portugal put it on their list.

For the record, the Portuguese royals ended badly. The second-last king was assassinated along with his heir. History records that the assassins were republicans, not architecture critics.

The walk downhill through the park was blissful after the crowds.

From the bottom exit we crossed the road and walked to the Castle of the Moors. This was a real ruined castle. Lyn stayed in the lower sections while I climbed the heights. I found myself looking down over the rest of the castle, looking further down to the city below and across to Pena Palace.

This was all very spectacular but by this time we were wrecked. We crowded back onto the bus and caught the train back to Lisbon. We have enjoyed buying The Times (of London) on this trip when we have a train journey. We read the news and do the word puzzles.

In Lisbon we ate some real food and drank Aperol spritz to finish the day well. Back in our hotel room we looked out the window. 

By taxi or downhill

If you are going to explore Lisbon, then take taxis uphill and walk down. It just makes sense.

We walked out of the hotel for 50 metres and Lyn decided that her skirt might lead to sunburn. She went back to change and I walked downhill to the information centre intending to buy a Lisbon card for transport and reduced entry fees. I learned that on Monday the national sites and monuments are closed on Mondays and I observed that the traffic was fairly horrible and I knew that Lyn would not go on the metro. It made sense then not to buy a Lisbon card today. I then walked back up the hill to meet Lyn. This latter experience led to my brainwave. Catch taxis!

A fellow traveller in Porto had strongly recommended the Gulbenkian museum so we grabbed a taxi and off we went. It turned out to be stunning. Gulbenkian was an Armenian-born oil magnate who amassed a huge fortune by creating companies like Royal Dutch Shell and keeping 5% of everything he created. A large part of his fortune was used to acquire thousands of incredible artworks or distributed in various philanthropic efforts. The Lisbon collections occupy a large complex set in a beautiful park which is open to the public. We spent hours there.

We walked out to see a taxi dropping someone off. We jumped in and headed off to the Castle of St George overlooking the city. As castles go it’s ok but as a lookout over Lisbon it is awesome.

The everyday items in the castle museum were rather ho hum after the wonders of the Gulbenkian but we clambered about and admired the resident peacocks which had the run of the place.

From the castle the walk was downhill to the cathedral. This was rather lumpish but at least cool. Lyn got to light candles. They have found remains in excavations in the cloisters including, of course, a Roman road. I’d hazard a guess therefore that there was originally a Roman temple here. Historically, people tend to be fairly unoriginal about where they build stuff.

Further downhill we stopped at a mirador (lookout) directly above the cruise ship port. 

Eventually, at the bottom of the hill, we came to the vast Praça do Comércio (which sounds infinitely more exotic than Commerce Square). I suppose that when you consider the things that have happened here, it is exotic. Phoenician traders, Roman garum manufacturers, Visigoths, Moors, Berbers, crusaders, Vasco Da Gama’s caravels, coffee from Brazil, Magellan, spices from Goa, the 1755 earthquake and tsunami and the Carnation Revolution all make it a pretty exotic sort of place. We learned about all of this in the very clever Lisbon Stories museum. One room was set up like a warehouse of Portugal’s golden age and the delightful thing was, you smelled the spices as you walked through it. Outside in the square there is a sculpture of a king on a horse and a really big arch thing.

Sadly, this final stop had taken us to the bottom of the hill, which meant breaking the Lisbon walking rule for the last 400 metres. We staggered uphill to the wonderful bookshop we discovered yesterday. There, we ate cake and drank beer and tea. (Yes, it is a really good bookshop.)

While drinking my beer, I was flicking through a translation of Pessoa’s poetry which Lyn had found, and meditating on Portugal’s history. I came to this.

To Lisbon

On another beautiful day we left Porto for Lisbon. The train trip was easy and comfortable. We caught a taxi from the station to our hotel. We have a lovely big deluxe room in a converted palace.

This is the view out of our two double windows.

We walked a little. We noted Lisbon’s picturesquely steep streets and did not envy the tourists packed like Portuguese sardines onto the iconic trams on route 28. I sat with the sculpture of Pessoa, Lisbon’s famous poet. We went to mass in another big old church. 

Lyn was feeling headachy and weary this evening so we called off any plans for dinner out and had takeaway, occasionally looking out at the view.

One fine day

It took till our fifth day in Porto but at last the clouds and rain have disappeared.

Lyn announced that it was once again hair-washing day so I fled the apartment in search of adventure. I’m always happy to climb a tower and Lyn isn’t, so the Torre dos Clérigos was my morning target. It proved more than a view. The church and museum were quietly impressive and included a view from behind the statue of Jesus suspended above the altar. The final climb up was a challenge because it was not designed for passing. Medieval staircases are no respecters of personal space. The view from the top was worth the climb and not really reproducible in a photograph. When I reached the bottom I discovered that a very long line had formed. Not many others would be enjoying anything like my morning moment. Instead they’d be waiting and jostling and watching in frustration as tour groups with ‘skip the line’ access added to their waiting time.

Hair-washing day had morphed into shopping day when I returned. Lyn found a shop with a ‘nice man’ and replaced her handbag. Then we walked down to the Douro and soaked up the sun and the views.

Then we reclimbed the hill towards the shopping street called Santa Caterina. Firstly though, we found the cathedral. The most beautiful part of this rather untidy lump of mostly Romanesque stodge is the blue-tiled cloisters area.

Then we found a restaurant for lunch. This also turned out to be Romanesque stodge. However, we really enjoyed the local vinho verde that went with it. More shopping followed, then siesta.

We had booked for a fado performance at 6.00 pm. We slept till 5.40 which led to some hurried dressing and an unseemly hustle down the hill to get to the show. Before I could say it to her, Lyn said, “I can’t believe you didn’t set an alarm.” This meant I had to apologise. I’ll be quicker next time. We enjoyed the performance. Lyn has requested we find a fado place in Lisbon. We leave tomorrow.

Douro Valley

A Portuguese, two Spaniards, two Australians and an American went for a drive, tasted wine, cruised on a riverboat and ate. A good time was had by all.

It took 90 minutes of good roads, spectacular bridges and a 6km tunnel to reach the other side of the mountains and the Douro River Valley. Pinhão was our coffee stop. We also admired the beautiful tile decoration on the walls of the old railway station.

After many hairpin bends we stopped at a winery with spectacular views and 3 decent table wines to taste.

Then we wound our way back down the mountain to the river. We took an hour-long ride and ignored the commentary. Instead we took pictures and chatted with our fellow travelers.

More driving took us to a rather poor restaurant lunch but the wine and company were great so we retained our good humour. The final stop was a port tasting. At both wineries we also got the tour which was interesting. Port and nibbles followed. The guys all liked one of the port styles, though not the same one. The women didn’t like any of them! Lyn did like the tiny local church.

Throughout the tour the real pleasure was in the conversation. The Spanish couple were happy speaking English, many stories were shared and, not for the first time, people discussed the fact that Lyn looks like Meryl Streep. When it was suggested that this made me a lucky man, I countered that perhaps it was because I looked like George Clooney. This suggestion was vehemently rejected.