I'm a couple days behind on updates, and for this I do not apologize. I do not.
Our second day in Lisbon began with a call that the Wicca had conjured her luggage over to Portugal earlier than expected, and while she went to retrieve it, we celebrated with a much needed sleep in. Once we got our day started for real with breakfast on the square, we jumped (leapt?) on a train bound for Sintra, an absolute must-do according to anyone who has ever been to Lisbon. So much so that Girl was already disappointed before we got there.
Some time a long time ago, the moors built a castle on the hillside 40 minutes outside the city (if it even was a city then) from where they could keep an eye on the sea. This proved to be such a brillz idea that once the Portugal empire began, they built a few other palaces in the hood. I'd love to have seen those property taxes. It would take three days and a lot of money to see all the sights in Sintra, and since we had wine to be getting back to, we stuck with just the main attraction: The Pena Palace. It did not disappoint.
Imagine a castle like you picture from a fairy tale, and then give that castle some Asian and Muslim influence, and that's what you get at Pena. You really cant stop taking pictures. We spent a couple hours trolling the inside and out, having another 4 pm lunch (and a pretty damn good one considering it was the palace cafeteria) and natch doing a pyramid. After making our way back down the hill, we sat for a snack of Sintra's famous quejadas, which they call their version of cheesecake though I saw no similarities other than both being delicious.
We freshened up at the apartment and made a plan for the evening, something we often discuss doing and then fail at ("did we decide on dinner yet?). This would be a proper time to introduce you to Santo Antonio, the favorite saint of Portugal. Santo Antonio watches over the poor single unlucky in love losers out there (oh wait...), and on his Saint day in June each year Portugal hosts a mass wedding for those too poor to have there own. He is also the saint for whom my home town is named. WHAT A COINCIDENCE. our destination for dinner was Santo Antonio da Alfama, by way of a bottle of wine on the steps of the Rio Tejo at Placa do Comercio.
You will remember my excited description of dinner our second night in Douro. This topped it. A little tough to find (true story, we walked by a homeless man peeing), but it's a sight to see - on it's own little square with vines hanging overhead and parakeets purposely tweeting -- almost as if you were In the middle of the countryside not a major city. The menu was a mixture of Portuguese traditional dishes and others from around the world, and between us we split yellow and red peeper soup; Gorgonzola stuffed mushrooms; potato slices in an amazing garlic dipping sauce; fried runner bean pods; aubergine in a sauce I don't remember; duck with orange sauce (a new fave); and fettuccini Alfredo, which Fids claimed was the best she's ever had, and like me she has been to Italy twice. Absolutely amazing.
Our spirits high, we caught a cab for Bairro Alto, ready for some mischief. We ducked into the first crowded bar we could find and bought the biggest drinks you could get. Though i know I've already compared Lisbon to San Fran (hills, trolleys, golden gate bridge, neighborhoods), Bairro Alto is like NOLA. Just chaos in the streets, but in a seemingly less sloppy way (can't say for sure since we always headed home "early" at around 2).
Fids was on a mission: men and dancing. After we had wandered for a while, she approached a group of dudes and asked for directions to get back to the bar on our cups. They told us we didn't want to go back there, and instead we hung out for them for the rest of the night: Marco, Carlos, Freddie and Wilmer Valderama (spitting image at least; and though he didn't know who that was until he looked up a picture, he thought it was hilarious)
For my going away party from work they made a bunch of beyonce faces. I brought four with me so B could be with us wherever we go (literally, sometimes we forgot how many we were and would get a seat for her). Our new buddies LOVED this gimmick and took about a thousand pics with her (and I gave them one at the end of the night in hopes she would get to see the real clubbing side of Lisbon - remember this if she gives a Lisboa shout out on her next album).
We begged our dudes to take us some place to dance to American music, which they did - a bar I will never recall the name of but that included a sex shop, a porn library, and another dj that didn't take requests. COME ON LISBON. Side note: on the way there, while waiting to cross the street Wilmer turned to me and said "Where's Beyonce when you need the Green Light." It's a wonder I did not let him impregnate me right then and there. After an hour or so of dancing, we turned to pumpkins and said goodbye to our totally fun, not creepy new friends. Plus one men of Portugal
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